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#crying into my breakfast cereal this morning? a new low has been reached!
nearwildheaven · 3 years
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bestie i am so close to reenacting the last verse of a most peculiar man (simon & garfunkel, 1966) it’s not even funny
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
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Always You | JJK (Two)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama
Word Count: 9.3k
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, oc is a bad friend:(, sexual tension (?), body image issues, oc is feeling a lil insecure, mentions of sex, sounds of sex, crying, male masturbation, fantasy includes: spanking and vaginal intercourse.
Notes: thanks for the love for the first part…heres part 2! I hope everyone enjoys:) get ready for drama to come hahaha. If you wanted to be added to the taglist just send me an ask or whatevs, and feel free to send one if you want to discuss the story!
Taglist: @monvieesdaebak @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous --- Next
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Gentleman: “A civilized, educated, sensitive, or well-mannered man.” Is how the dictionary defines the word but if you were to look up the term in your own dictionary it would just be a picture of Taehyung’s handsome as hell face.
Opening the car door, pulling your chair out, holding your hand, softly gripping your waist, making you feel like the only one in the room—Taehyung is doing everything right. Your mind should be overwhelmed with the thought of Taehyung. He should be filling your every sense, he should be the only thing you can understand. He should be. But every time his perfect lips land on the skin of your cheek, your mind somehow finds Jungkook. That son of a bitch.
There’s a string of warm lights dangling on the restaurants brick walls, and it’s almost picture perfect but one of the bulbs is out and it’s making the scene less ideal. Your eyes keep going back to the one bulb that refuses to shine. You just want everything to be perfect.
“I know I already told you…” Taehyung is sitting across from you, his gentle smile making your heart flutter, “But you look so pretty tonight.”
You know you should be gazing into his chocolate eyes but you can’t keep your eyes from shifting towards that stupid ass bulb. All the other bulbs are lit up just fucking fine but this bulb wants to be difficult. It just hasto go against everyone else. Your eyes narrow at the string of lights and you scoff. This stupid bulb reminds you of someone.
Taehyung brought you to a decently fancy restaurant, the food is alright but he says the main attraction is the monster baked cookie with ice cream melting over the top. He is excited like a child at the mention of his favorite dessert, you can’t help but smile fondly towards him.
“So…” Taehyung slides the dessert closer to you, “I never asked but how did Jungkook take the whole not really talking in public thing?”
Your eyes shoot up to the stupid bulb and you blink at it a few times. “I…” Your gaze drifts back to him. “I didn’t tell him.”
Taehyung drops his napkin at the news, his eyes slightly widening as he processes your words.
“We just aren’t talking right now.”
You wince as the words leave your mouth, but it’s true. You are a coward who is just ignoring her best friend because you don’t have the balls to face him. You don’t have the balls to forgive him and you definitely don’t have the balls to inform him that he’s out of the picture for a month. Because you don’t have the balls to admit to yourself you chose a boy over your friend. Basically you’re just a bitch with no balls!
“Yeah, he isn’t really talking to me either.” Taehyung chuckles bitterly, “He’s really against this…I mean, I knew he was protective over you but—”
“Protective my ass.” You lean back in your chair, “He’s just being stupid.”
Taehyung looks at you and frowns. It makes you want to kiss his pouting lips.
“But thank you.”
Taehyung’s quizzical expression makes you snort,
“For the compliment. Thank you. You look really handsome as well.” You smile, your hand sliding across the table to hold his. You gently squeeze and pull back, letting go. Taehyung smiles at you but something strange settles in his eyes. He’s struck with an awkward expression as he forces another smile, his lips pulled together tightly.
“Thanks y/n” He opens his mouth then closes then opens, “For doing this. Seriously, thank you.”
“Well, you’re kind of supplying me with free coffee.” You laugh into your hand.
“Regardless,” Taehyung leans back in his chair, “You’re a good friend.”
Right. Friend... But you feel optimistic you will flee this place! The god forsaken friend zone! You smile at Taehyung, grabbing your fork and cutting into the cookie with it. You stare into Taehyung’s dark eyes as you bring the fork to your lips—okay yes, you are most definitely trying to make this sexy—you open your mouth wide and wrap you lips around the piece of cookie, you never break contact with Taehyung. You chew slowly and roll your eyes to the back of your head, like the dramatic ass bitch you are. You open an eye to see his reaction, you see him gulp and a small smile begins forming on his lips.
“mmm” you moan again.
“RIGHT?!”
~~~
“We got some pretty insta worthy photos!” Taehyung chuckles into your hair as he pulls back from the hug. “I would say tonight was a success!”
Right. A success. Because this is all for show. To get this Anna girl off his back. Not because he likes you or anything. You can’t help but feel disappointed in his words.
“That’s good Tae.” Your hands linger on his back, not wanting to let go completely. “I’ll see you tomorrow right?”
“And the next day and the next day,” he teases, “And don’t forget this weekend is the pool party at my friend Jin’s house.” Then Taehyung nibbles on his lips, “Jungkook is going…so you should probably talk to him.”
You probably should of figured Jungkook is going to go…but that doesn’t stop you from feeling shocked. You should tell him he needs to lay low in public for a month but you guys aren’t talking already so do you really have to have that discussion with him?
“We’ll see.”
Taehyung steps forward and grabs your hand, “y/n…I know I said no Jungkook but I really just meant that you two aren’t all over each other in public…you don’t have to ignore him at home too…I’m sure he isn’t feeling great about it. And honestly, it makes me feel guilty too.” He admits softly, his hand feels sweaty in yours.
“He’s an asshole.” You let go of his hand, you feel your chest tighten and you hate yourself.
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. I should get inside now.”
“Okay…” Taehyung leans in for another quick hug and places a kiss on your forehead. You wish you could enjoy it but on the other side of this forehead are thoughts of Jungkook. Once again, that son of a bitch.
~~~
The next few days pass quickly, you and Taehyung have gone on two more dates.
The second date felt like a movie—it was classic and dreamy. Taehyung picked you up and drove you over to the next town that was having a carnival. You walked around holding hands, eating cotton candy and laughing at his jokes. The night ended with the ferris wheel, where you two got some insta worthy pictures—one shot including his lips on yours.
It felt so surreal. He posted it on Instagram that night with the caption ‘Her’ with purple hearts and within a couple hours there were at least 50 comments congratulating the two of you.
Third date you two went to a drive in theater. You fed each other popcorn, talked over the radio’s audio and took snaps to prove your date to the world.
This week has been nothing short of amazing. Taehyung is absolutely perfect. You feel like the only girl in the world with him. Like you don’t have to compete with anyone. Unfortunately, the week may have felt amazing on the outside, on the inside it’s been…weird.
The weird part of this week is the lack of Jungkook. Your usual cereal at noon on Tuesdays didn’t happen, your usual weekly episode of My Hero didn’t happen, your usual chit chat and banter didn’t occur. Just silence and awkward passes.
It’s all your doing though…Jungkook has tried. He still sat at the breakfast table munching on Apple Jacks while you passed him by, walking out your front door to meet Taehyung. He saved this week’s episode to your list so you could watch it. He has sent you multiple texts saying he’s sorry and he misses you but you ignored them. You have purposely started putting a distance between the two of you and it makes you uncomfortable.
You remind yourself that, besides doing this because Taehyung requested it, it is also for the best.
~~~
You sit at the edge of your bed staring at the bouquet of flowers Taehyung had sent you this morning. You eye the flowers, taking in their gorgeous appearance. They’re open and full and colorful. But why do you look at them and feel disappointed?
They seem to be begging for water, so you stand to your feet and grab the bouquet. You head for the kitchen to find your mothers crystal vase so you can place the beautiful flowers in it.
Jungkook is sitting at the breakfast table, slurping on some noodles and playing on his phone. You completely ignore him as you walk into the kitchen.
You stand on your tip toes to try to reach the vase in the cupboard but it’s too high for you. God damn it, you think. There’s no way in hell you’re asking Jungkook for help, no way in hell!
*about 10 pathetic seconds later*
“Jungkook, will you help me?”
You don’t even turn around to face him, you just raise your voice so hears you. Yeah, you’re a coward. You hear the screech of the chair against the tiled floor and you shiver. Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he walks up behind you, his chest coming flush against your back and you swear if he tried to pay attention he could probably feel your heartbeat through the contact. You stay frozen as he reaches his arms above you and grabs the vase. He must of just done laundry because his detergent fills your nostrils, its clean and refreshing. He sets the vase down on the counter and he continues to stand closely behind you, his scent now overwhelming your senses.
“These flowers are pretty.” He leans down to say in your ear. His hand coming down to hold on to your waist. “But you only like tulips.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “These are fine too.”
“Yeah, they are.” He admits. “But they’re not what you want.” He squeezes your waist, then he’s backing away from your body and a chill is left behind as he gets further away. It’s like the further he walks away from you the colder you become. As if Jungkook is the source of your warmth.
~~~
It’s Saturday afternoon and you are finally done getting ready. Taehyung is taking you out to a pool party today, hosted by one of his close friends—Jim? No, Jin. You know you’ve heard Jungkook talk about him before but haven’t gotten the chance to meet him since he’s a bit older and already graduated.
You look in the mirror as you tug your oversized shirt over your shorts. Underneath is a plain black bikini but unfortunately today is not a good day—you’re bloated as hell and it shows. At least you think it does. You continue to rate yourself in the mirror when Jungkook walks past your room.
“Didn’t know you were so self obsessed.” He pops in to say.
You turn to face him and as soon as he sees your frustrated expression he knows you’re on the verge of waterworks.
“Woah woah, whats wrong?” Jungkook is quick to rush to your side. You’ve been ignoring him for a week yet he still rushes to you when you need him. You’re a god damn bitch.
“I feel fat but I have a pool party to attend to and—”
“You’re going to that too…?” Jungkook eyes the ground under his feet. He sounds disappointed.
You try to steady your breathing but you feel a breakdown coming and Jungkook can sense it too.
“You’re not fat.” He states plainly.
“You wouldn’t know with these clothes I’m wearing.” You try to reason.
“Then take them off and show me.” He’s obviously aware of the bathing suit underneath but still, his words do something strange to you.
“No, I’m ugly.” Is all you respond with.
“y/n I don’t have time for this, either show me or like, don’t go.”
“Fine!”
You begin unbuttoning your shorts, painfully slow. He watches as you fumble with the zipper as you slide it down. You drag the shorts down your legs one by one and then you reach for the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. This leaves you half naked and feeling incredibly vulnerable.
Jungkook eyes you up and down quite shamelessly. His tongue darts out to lick his lip and he muffles a groan,
“You look fine.” He says so nonchalantly it makes you want to pull his hair out.
“Just fine?”
“You look good y/n” he says, his eyes sliding to the left. You don’t feel quite satisfied with his answer so you step towards him, getting so close he is forced to step back until his back is against the wall.
“How good?” you say, your voice dipping lower than usual, “So good you would—"
Bbbrrrr bbbrrrr bbrrrrr bbrrrr
Your phone.
“Hello? ….Hey Tae. No need, I’ll just meet you at your car. Okay, bye.” You click the phone off and throw it on your bed. You gather your clothes and put them back on as Jungkook stands there awkwardly. Once you have your things you turn to face Jungkook.
“Well Tae is here…” you motion towards the door. “Look, if you’re going to be at the party can you try to…respect my fake relationship? We wanna make it as real as poss—”
“I get it.” Jungkook snaps before walking out your bedroom. Fantastic.
~~~
“And this is y/n.” Taehyung pushes you forward by the shoulders as you stumble in front of all these new faces.
“Hi everyone.” You squeak out.
Everyone gives you a warm welcome, many handshakes and hugs later you feel well acquainted. You notice a familiar face. He’s laughing with Jin over some beers and you smile in their direction. Namjoon, a friend you met freshmen year. He notices you look in his direction and he waves you over. So you walk towards him and Jin, Namjoon handing you a drink as you get closer.
“Long time no see y/n!” his dimples light up the entire backyard. He glances between you and Taehyung, who is chatting with some others.
“You and our Taehyungie, huh?” He grins at you, “honestly, I thought you would end up with Jungkook.” You can’t help but blush at that. A real deep blush. Namjoon chuckles but his eyes hold pity.
“no no not Jungkook.” You laugh awkwardly.
“Well, Jungkook has always spoken really highly of you so I am sure Taehyung is a lucky guy.” Jin chimes in.
For some reason you feel sick at that. Jungkook speaks highly of you? Yet here you are ignoring him for another guy. You are avoiding your own best friend because of a boy. Fuck, you are the worst.
“thanks guys…well, I’m gonna go see Tae.”
You walk over to Taehyung, and when he spots you he absolutely lights up. His boxy grin taking over his entire face.
“There’s my girl,” he pulls you in for a hug and places a kiss to your head. You want to melt, you want to feel the lava of love drown you but instead you feel anxious as you notice Jungkook from across the yard. He’s got a beer to his lips and his eyes on you.
“Thanks for doing this y/n.” Taehyung also catches the pair of eyes watching the two of you. He meets Jungkook’s hard gaze and automatically Taehyung is filled with anxiety as well. Jungkook just shakes his head towards his friend and takes a generous sip of his drink.
“Everything okay?” you ask, squeezing his hand in yours.
“Everything is fine.” He says with a tight lip smile. “Just glad you’re here.” He says honestly.
A few hours pass, and the whole gang is crowded in the pool. Mostly everyone is drunk, but you are pretty sober. Not wanting a repeat of last weekend. Yikes, amirite ladies? Taehyung has his hands all over you, which you don’t really mind. The thought of him touching you was once something that might make you faint but you’ve grown comfortable. Your eyes scan the pool when you notice Jungkook is nowhere to be found. Did he go home already? Maybe he was feeling so down because you’ve been ignoring him…god, you hate yourself. You just need to talk to him. You’re a shitty friend, for sure.
“I’m gonna be right back,” you whisper to Taehyung. He only nods his head and continues chatting with his friends.
Jin’s house is beyond nice, and also huge. You are trying to find the bathroom but feel like you are opening every door but the one you’re looking for. There’s only one door left at the end of the main hall and you bet your entire ass it’s the bathroom. You reach for the door knob when you hear something muffled on the other side. Oh, it’s taken.
“Thanks for this.” It’s a woman’s voice.
“No problem.” Its Jungkook. You feel your stomach drop. What makes you feel worse is how detached Jungkook sounds. He sounds far away and broken. The doorknob begins to rattle and you try to make a run for it in time but are too late. The door is swinging open and one of Jin’s friends is walking out and in the background you see Jungkook zipping up his pants. His eyes meet yours and you want to run the fuck away.
“y/n?” Jungkook’s eyes expand twice their size as he spots you.
“I was…I was just looking for the bathroom.”
Jungkook’s face hardens, “Well, you found it.” He makes his way to pass you but you grab on to his arm to stop him.
“Wait,” you breathe in and out, trying to give yourself time to think of what you want to say.
“What is it?” his voice is somehow softer than he probably intended.
“I want to talk to you…explain to you why I’ve been ignoring you.”
“Yeah, you’re still pissed at me, I fucking get it.” He spits out bitterly.
“It’s…it’s more than that.”
“More than that? Did I do something more? What did I do? y/n just tell me…” He rocks back and forth on his heels, his eyes glued to the ground.
“You’re going to be so mad at me, maybe even hate me—”
“You know I could never hate you.” He whispers, sounding so sincere it crushes you.
You glance around your surroundings, making sure no one is around and drag him back into the bathroom for some privacy. You shut the door behind you, trying so hard to ignore the smell of sex.
“Tae thought—” you begin but Jungkook is already rolling his eyes to the back of his head.
“Of course Tae thought.” His tone almost scares you. “Let me guess? Taehyung doesn’t want me around while you guys are fake dating. That’s not fucking weird to you?” He grits between his teeth. He balls up his fists at his side, you see his knuckles turn white and it makes you feel uneasy.
“He made some good points…”
“Oh really?” Jungkook laughs bitterly, “Like what?”
You looked into Jungkook’s doe eyes and feel a sense of guilt, like you somehow made the wrong choice.
“He thinks we’re too close. And he’s right. It would be weird if I’m super closer to another guy while dating him.” you reason, but your face falls when you see Jungkook’s scrunched up expression.
“You think we’re too close?” he whispers.
Well, yes. But also, no. Of course not, but also yes. How do you tell Jungkook all of that?
“People always think we’re dating or fucking or—”
“Oh? And all the sudden we care what people think?” his voice wavers from the rollercoaster of emotions he is feeling.
“Jungkook wait, I’m wording this all wrong. It’s just for a month okay?”
“You wanna date him that badly? That you would throw me away?” he grits out.
“Hey! That’s not fucking fair.”
“So what? Say your little fantasy comes true and he decides he wants to date you for real? Am I still out of the picture?”
“No no, of course not…” you shake your head and reach for his hands but he pulls away.
“So then what’s the difference now?”
Jungkook has a good point but you’re at a loss for words. Too choked up to speak.
“And you know what y/n? Fuck you for choosing him over me in the first place.” And with that Jungkook breezes past you, swings open the bathroom door and is out of your view.
Jungkook has never spoken to you like that before, you stand there with your mouth hung open and tears forming in your eyes.
He’s right. You fucked up. You did a fucked up thing. You chose a boy who may not even actually like you over the one guy who has always had your back.
“y/n?” you snap your head in the direction of the door to see Taehyung standing there. A look of disappointment decorating his face.
“I was told you and Jungkook were in the bathroom…” he spits out.
“I had to talk to him, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but how does this look for me?” Taehyung speaks sternly. You did NOT need this right now.
“Tae—”
“You couldn’t even last more than a week y/n.” he scoffs.
“Listen could we just talk about this later?” you ask with pleading eyes.
“I’ll call an uber.” He motions towards the hallway, “we can talk tomorrow.”
You slump your shoulders and nod your head, tomorrow sounds like it’s for the best.
3 days have passed and neither Jungkook nor Taehyung have talked to you.
You hear Jungkook come in and out of the apartment but you’re too shy to make a move outside of your bedroom. He’s either coming from classes, the gym, Jimins, or some girls house and you’re dying to know which.
You have been hibernating in your room, taking comfort in your bed when you get a notification from Instagram.
@V tagged you in a post.
You scramble to unlock your phone so you can view the post. Once you are on the app you click on you notifs and click on the post.
It’s a picture of you eating cotton candy from when he took you to the fair on your date. With the caption:
“Missing my girl tonight”
And a bunch of heart emojis. Your own heart sinks. He misses you? You close the app and instead open your messages.
y/n 9:08pm
You miss me for the show or is there some truth behind that?
Taehyung 9:20pm
Maybe it’s both?
Taehyung 9:22pm
I am sorry for how I left things…I was just kinda embarrassed that my supposed girl was with another guy,,,in a bathroom.
y/n 9:24pm
trust me I know how it looks and im sorry…
y/n 9:26pm
If it makes you feel any better Jungkook isn’t talking to me either.
Taehyung 9:26pm
Of course that doesn’t make me feel better, he is your best friend…
y/n 9:28pm
tae, I hope we can continue this…I still want to help you…
Taehyung 9:34pm
Ill pick you up at 6 for a date tmrw: )
y/n 9:34pm
I cant wait: ) : )
You click your phone off and toss it on the other side of the bed, you squeal in excitement as the realization hits that Taehyung still wants to do this with you.
You hear Jungkook on the other side of the wall, yelling into what you assume is his headset. He’s gaming. You miss him so god damn much. He has no idea what his silence is doing to you. You try to focus your attention on tomorrows date with Taehyung but you can’t help the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Guilt. You were an awful friend and now thinking about it you are continuing to be an awful friend. If he even counts you as friends anymore.
“fuck you”
Those words ring loud and clear in your ears. You didn’t even know Jungkook was capable of speaking to you like that. It fucking hurts.
Jungkook is in his room pacing back and forth. He saw it. The insta post. And he feels like he’s losing you. Neither of you have made a move to speak to the other. He’s just too hurt and you continue to see Taehyung? You obviously don’t feel too bad about the whole ordeal. And 3 days is just too long. A week was too long, but somehow these 3 days are worse.
Jungkook grabs his phone and opens up tinder. He messages one of the girls that’s been teasing him lately. He figures now is the time to make more of a move.
Jungkook 10:00pm
Hey ;) what are you doing tonight?
Leslie 10:10pm
Gonna be thinking about you probably;)
Jungkook 10:12pm
Instead of thinking about me, come see me.
And that was it, that’s all it took. She was quick to agree and he is already sending her the address.
It’s after 11pm when you hear the front door open, you quietly get out of bed, curiosity getting the best of you. Was Jungkook leaving? But then you hear a girls voice and you immediately frown. Oh. She sounds pretty. Is that even a thing? Well, she does. And it has you feeling weird. You thought you were over this.
You hear the patter of their footsteps walking towards Jungkook’s room, the sound of his door opening and closing just like that.
You walk back to your bed feeling ashamed for spying, but now you know you won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Fanfuckingtastic.
“aaahhh…” the random girl whines out causing you to shift uncomfortably in your bed.
“More?” you can hear Jungkook’s muffled voice, he sounds strained. Probably because he’s fucking some girl a few feet away from you.
You reach over to your nightstand for your headphones when you hear Jungkook grunting as the beds headboard bangs against your wall, he groans and moans and you feel yourself getting hotter.
You try not to imagine Jungkook in these scenarios but he sounds…no, you won’t have those thoughts…you don’t want to remember. Your hand is still midair when you retreat it back to your bed.
“Fuck yeah baby.” You hear him gripe. And you squeeze your thighs together. No, this cannot be happening.
“Jungkook! Jungkook!” Fuck, she sounds so fucked out.
“Feels so good, feels so good” he pants over and over and you feel the back of your eyes burn.
“gonna come” he groans out and your chest is heaving now, your breathing becoming a chore. You can’t cry, not over this. He hates you and he’s buried in some other girl. And you want to fucking crying about it. You hear him moaning on the other side of the wall and then—
“Fuuuuuuccckk” his orgasm is fucking apparent. He’s obviously coming and you’re lying in your bed all fucking pathetic with tears staining your cheeks.
Jungkook lays in bed totally fucked out of his mind. This girl is sleeping next to him, trying to her best to cuddle but he resists. He wishes he had time to himself to think properly. He just fucked another girl and thought of you the entire time. He is 100% fucked up. Wait, wait. He needs to explain himself…it’s not like he thought of you like, sexually. It’s just you’re all that’s on his mind. Even during fucking sex. And he hates himself for it.
He decides to sneak out of bed to have a shower. He creaks open his door for any sign of life and when there is none he tip toes to the bathroom. Jungkook stands in the shower letting the warm water cascade over his skin, he just stands there lifeless.
Images of you cross his mind and he sinks to his knees, pulling them into his chest and he quietly curses under his breath. He misses you so much and things have gotten so messed up he just doesn’t even know how to fix it.
He scrubs himself clean, ridding the scent of the random girl he brought over. He sniffles under the raining water hating himself.
Jungkook dries himself off with your towel, and puts on his shorts. His chest left bare.
He exits the bathroom when he notices a light coming from the kitchen and sees you sitting at the table with a glass of water.
“oh.” Jungkook slips up.
“oh?” you wonder.
“I thought you were fast asleep.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.
“Just woke up.” You lie through your teeth with a strained smile. “Couldn’t sleep…”
“I know the feeling…” he admits, walking closer to you.
Jungkook makes his way to the table before pulling out a chair and sitting down next to you.
“Listen—”
“Jungkook—”
You both begin talking at the same time. Jungkook ushers you to go first.
“I…I’m still fake dating Tae.”
“I know.”
“But…” your eyes gloss over, getting choked up trying to continue. “But I am so sorry.” A few tears spill from your eyes.
“I know y/n.” he reaches his hand to squeeze your knee. You feel so much better with him touching you. “I’m sorry too…I was really harsh. And it pains me every day that I haven’t talked to you.”
“Trust me, I get it. I wanted to like, kill myself not talking to you.” Your eyes slam shut as more tears threaten to fall.
Jungkook’s face morphs into a deep frown, “You know I don’t like when you say that…”
“Right…sorry.”
“Honestly y/n…I don’t know when I will be okay with this, but I’ll respect your wishes for the month.”
“Jungkook…” Your hand flies down to his and you squeeze it but he’s quick to let it go.
“I’m mad at you right now.” He admits softly, his breathing is slow and steady. “So just give me some space.”
~~~
Like magical clockwork you hear light knocking on your front door. You scramble to find your phone and your purse to make it to the door in good time but you hear it being creaked open and the voices of two men. Shit, Jungkook got to the door first.
Ever since you started fake dating Taehyung it seems Jungkook has been keeping a distance from him. You aren’t sure why but they’ve been weird. So you want to avoid as much awkwardness as possible. You grab all your belongings and rush to the living room and find the two men sitting on the sofa quietly chatting.
“Can you keep your voice down dude?” Taehyung peers over his shoulder, looking in the direction of your room. “Would if she hears?”
“I wish she would fucking hear,” Jungkook grits through his teeth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Why don’t you just tell her?” he leans back on the back of the sofa, “She might be understanding, hm? Do it before it’s too late or I swear to god Taehyung I will tell her myself.”
“You swore you wouldn’t say shit. Just like how I swore not to say any—”
“Okay.”
“I’ll tell her dude. Just give me some time to—"
Jungkook’s eyes shoot up when he hears the light creak of your bedroom door open, he waits expectantly for you to walk through.
“Hey guys,” you announce your presence and both boys look up at you and smile. Taehyung with his boxy grin and Jungkook with a tightlipped smile.
“Hey y/n, you look nice,” Taehyung stands to his feet and walks towards you, “I mean, you always do.” He stops just in front of you and hands you a bag.
“What’s this?” you take the bag and jingle it around a bit.
“just something for our date.” He grins. “You can open it later.” Taehyung glances over at Jungkook, “Anyway, let’s get going. See you later man.” He nods toward the boy and faces you again. “shall we?”
You smile up at Taehyung and take his hand in your yours and lead him towards the front door but before you leave you and Jungkook make eye contact and he frowns.
Taehyung being the gentlemen he is runs to the car before you and opens your car door.
“Feet inside?” he asks and you’re nodding yes when he shuts the door for you. He runs around the other side and enters the car himself. Taehyung settles on an old 50’s station with the volume just right. He’s humming along with a dopey grin on his face, feeling satisfied with his choice.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“Let’s get some dinner first then we can do our date activity I have planned” he chuckles to himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
You drive around in comfortable silence when you decide to take your phone out and shoot Jungkook a text.
y/n 6:14pm
You okay?
Jungkook 6:16pm
Don’t worry about me while you’re out with another guy
“Everything okay?” Taehyung asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“hm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.” You reply quite honestly.
“About Jungkook?”
“What?? Why would you assume that?” your voice rises in panic.
“Well, we were all just together and I know you and him are fighting…I thought it was a safe assumption.” He laughs awkwardly.
“Oh…right. Actually, me and Jungkook sorted things out kind of but we’re still barely talking.”
“oh? Really?” Taehyungs grip on the steering wheel tightens.
“He said he will steer clear for the month, ya know, in public.”
“He—he agreed?” Taehyung coughs a few times, his head pushed back in disbelief.
“Something like that.” You don’t really know what to say, this is an awkward thing to be talking about and you wish the subject would change.
“Anyway,” you begin, “How did things with Anna escalate?”
Taehyung freezes. The color draining from his face as his knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.
“Um.” Taehyung feels sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to come up with an answer.
“You know how it is,” his mouth feels dry as he tries to speak, “She just won’t leave me alone and I want to show her that I am taken so she will get the hint.” Then a sly smile spreads across his face “and I think it’s working.”
“You think so?” you raise a brow in question.
“Well, you are such a convincing girlfriend after all.” His right arm extends towards your knee and he squeezes it. “Thanks again y/n…” he almost sounds…guilty. But you push that thought away and smile at him. Your sweet smile making him feel even guiltier.
~~~
“Dinner was sooo good.” You raise your arms above your head, stretching your body, a satisfied moan leaving you as you lower your arms again.
“I knew you’d like it! Best pizza in town!” Taehyung sets his credit card in the bill holder on the table. “Ready for what I have planned next?”
“hmmm, yes.”
The two of you wait for the server to return so you can finish paying so you can leave. Once all finished up at the restaurant the two of you head back to the parking lot and get inside his car to go to your next destination.
“Your apartment?” you ask as you notice his building coming into view.
“Yes. But you’ll see.” He turns his head quickly to flash you his pearly whites.
The two of you walk to his front door as he unlocks the door. Taehyung has a two bedroom apartment but lives alone. You’ve only ever seen his kitchen and living room and you’re wondering if you’re lucky enough you’ll see his bedroom. Hehe but that’s wishful thinking.
“You have that bag?” Taehyung asks,
“yup,” you say lifting it up and showing him the precious goods.
“Great go put it on!”
You tilt your head in confusion but you see how excited he is so you walk to his bathroom and shut the door behind you. Would if it was lingerie? You giggle to yourself at the ridiculous idea.
You open the bag to find some type of clothing. First, you pull out a large white t shirt and next was an…apron? The apron was a light pink color with a pocket in the front with your initials embroidered on it. You gasp once you realize it, your heart beating out of your chest as you melt into a puddle on the floor. He got your initials on an apron? You hurry to change into the white t shirt and put the apron on.
“Cute.” You murmur to yourself in the mirror before you’re out the door and back into the living room.
“How do you like it?” Taehyung asks from behind you, surprising you with a glass of water. You take the water gratefully and gulp down a few sips before answering.
“love it, but what’s it for?”
Taehyung beams, grabbing your arm and leading you into one of the bedrooms. He stands in front of the door and bounces on his heels.
“Ready?”
“Yes?”
“Never showed anyone this room but I feel like you’re special” Taehyung giggles, “Plus I thought it was a cute date idea.”
“hmm, okay. I’m ready.” You are such a fool for this boy, his cuteness doing a million things to you.
Taehyung begins to slowly open the door revealing a room with tarp covering the ground and easels taking up space. There are buckets of paint, a variety of colors spread all across. And many, many art pieces.
“You…” you begin to say in awe, “You’re an artist, Tae?”
“Aspiring.” He chuckles a bit bitterly. “How would you like to paint together?”
“You feel comfortable enough with me?” you ask, surprised.
“Something about you….” He starts but leaves it hanging. “Let’s paint!”
You dip your paint brush in purple paint and stroke it across the canvas, the color joining a mess of other colors. That’s art, right? Fuck, you are not good at this. You sneak a glance over at Taehyung to see him painting a scenic art piece. There’s mountains and flowers but somehow in an abstract kind of way, you tilt your head to the side trying to eye it more carefully.
“Hey, no peeking!” his bottom lip jutting out in the cutest way. You just want to kiss it.
You stand from your stool and walk over to his, your eyes never leaving his art work.
“I’m trying to figure out what I am looking at. Don’t get me wrong, its super cool. But like there’s this beautiful tree with flowers but also shapes??”
“Its abstract, y/n.” his tone is light and makes you flutter. “I like it this way.” He says softly.
“me too.” You look at him, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze shifts to your lips.
“heh really?” Taehyung’s cheeks turn a wonderful shade of pink, like the flowers on his canvas.
“You really are amazing, aren’t you?”
“Me? Let’s see what you got!” He stands from his stool and begins walking over to your art work.
“No!” you stand in his way, your arms flailing above your head. “It’s not good!” You laugh and push his chest back with your hands, Taehyung wobbles in place as he laughs at your dramatics.
“It can’t be that bad.”
You finally let him walk past you, he stands in front of your canvas with his finger on his chin,
“Okay, it can be that bad.”
Taehyung bubbles with laughter and you hit his shoulder but end up laughing with him.
“I told you.” You pout. Taehyung stares at you, his eyes once again shifting towards your lips and you aren’t going to play dumb, of course you’ve noticed.
“What?” you jut your lip out even more, walking just a bit closer to him.
“Nothing, you’re just cute.” Taehyung admits. His long fingers brush against your cheek as he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear.
“Like, really cute.”
Well, holy shit. Your heart and also your vagina cannot take this.
“How cute?” you breathe out.
“So cute I could kiss you.” Taehyung walks closer, his foot bumping into yours. “But…” He looks down at the ground, guilt beginning to surface, “y/n I have to tell—”
You tilt your head up and meet his lips for a peck on the lips taking him by surprise. Taehyung knits his brows together and is about to say something when he sighs out instead. One of his hands travel to cup the back of your head to bring you closer to him and he kisses you again. He deepens the kiss. Its slow and there’s no tongue, just lips moving tenderly against one another. You feel so light and airy like you could just float away until he abruptly pulls back.
“What’s wrong?” you panic, worry filling your eyes.
“We—we shouldn’t do that.” He finally says after a moment. Why? It was just some kissing between two people who possibly like each other? It’s not like you were delusional right? It’s not like you were making this up in your head. The flowers, the apron, the dinners, the car door, the ‘missing my girl’, the way he treats you can’t just be because of some fake dating bullshit. You know he is known for his kindness but to this extent?
“Why?” you finally say.
“Because,” Taehyung drags a hand across his face, “No one’s around. Let’s just take our pictures—”
BBrrrrrr bbbrrrr brrrrrr bbbrrrr
Taehyung’s phone is sitting on the table next to where the two of you are, it’s going off and you naturally glance over.
Incoming call: Anna
Taehyung races to turn it off, his face flushing and his hands have become sweaty.
“She…she just doesn’t give up.” He chuckles awkwardly, his phone in his grasp as you hear the buzzing of incoming messages.
“Is that her too?” you ask, feeling sorry for him.
“Uh, yeah…probably.” He says, his eyes looking all over the room but never on you.
“Well, let’s see what she’s saying.” You say nonchalantly, reaching for his phone but he yanks his hand back and barks a loud ‘No’. Startled, you step away from him.
“Sorry, I just…” he rubs his neck.
“No no, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have reached for your phone like that…” Something is off, You can feel it. But you want to push that feeling away.
“Let’s just take the pictures, I need to get home soon.”
“Yeah, okay.” Taehyung forces a smile.
~~~
Something is off with Taehyung. The way he wanted to kiss you but then pulled back. The way he got super weird after Anna called. Has she traumatized him that much? Is she like a real, legit stalker who is totally and completely obsessed with him? You feel bad for the guy, he seems like he probably has trust issues or something. Maybe he thinks you might turn out to be like her and he’s scared of that so that’s why he is pushing you away.
That’s gotta be it. You roll around in your bed about to finally get some sleep when you hear music blaring through the wall. Jungkook. You roll your eyes at his choice of timing. The clock reads after midnight, why the hell is he blasting music at this time?
You rise from your bed and storm into his room. Jungkook looks surprised to see you as he is in the middle of doing pushups—shirtless.
His muscles ripple with every movement and it has you practically drooling.
“Uh, can I help you?” Jungkook doesn’t look very annoyed, mostly amused.
“It’s late, Jungkook. Can you turn this shit down?”
“Can’t. Didn’t get a work out in today…so here I am.” He rises to his feet, shrugging.
The music is some horrible rock back that you can’t stand and Jungkook knows this. He fucking knows this. Wow, he really is mad at you still.
“Listen dude,” you put your hands on your hips, “I’ve had a weird day and I just want to relax.”
“Oh baby, I can think of a way for you to relax.” He winks. You want to puke, why is Jungkook so gross.
“Ew.”
“So…how was it?” Jungkook’s eyes fall to the ground.
“What?”
“How—how was your date with Taehyung?” he doesn’t raise his eyes, they stay glued to the floor.
“It was…” you get flashbacks to the awkward date, “fine.” You finish, not wanting to give Jungkook any more reason to dislike you and Taehyung together. “Yeah, it was fine” you force a smile.
“You know I know better than anyone when you’re lying.” He says, finally looking at you again.
Fuck. He’s right, if anyone knows you and your lying habits its Jungkook. He can read you like his favorite book. And it’s like, a picture book. Super fucking easy.
“It was fine Jungkook.” You lie again.
“What happened?” his tone eases into something softer, something more comforting and it almost makes you break and tell him the truth. Almost. But not quite.
“Nothing happened. Keep the music down, I’m going to bed.”
Jungkook watches as you spin on your heels to exit his bedroom, his eyes caving and watching your ass the entire time. He has a love-hate relationship with your house shorts, they’re sexy as hell and that’s the problem.
Jungkook turns the volume down on his speakers and sits on the edge of his bed. His head falls into his hands as he thinks about your date with Taehyung. Something must have happened. He knows it. He feels it. But he can’t force you to tell him.
He lays back on his bed and his face hardens as he thinks more about your fake relationship. He wants to beat Taehyungs ass. He wish he could tell you but it’s not his place and he just wishes Taehyung will do the right thing.
While staying loyal to Taehyung is he betraying you?
~~~~
Best friend: “A person you value over other friends in your life, someone you have fun with, someone you trust and someone in whom you confide.” That’s how the dictionary would describe the word but in Jungkook’s dictionary it would just be your cute face. Everything about you is cute to him, the way you walk, talk, dress, sneeze, just everything.
Even when you look gross as hell in the mornings dealing with a nasty hangover he still viewed you as…cute.
When Jungkook first noticed you was in his Literature class that took place on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He knew you always sat in the back and took your notes without really paying him any attention. And not to sound like a cocky bastard but…why not? He obviously thought you were pretty and there was something about you…
The second time he noticed you was at some frat party where he caught you staring at him and he thought he finally might have a chance at talking to you. Or get in your pants at least. He could one and done this situation and move on with his life but much to his surprise you weren’t interested in getting dicked down by him. No, you were interested in just…hanging out. Which he wasn’t use to. Most girls just wanted to say the got with the Jeon Jungkook and don’t pay him any mind for something serious. Because apparently he isn’t the type of guy you could be “serious” with. It’s not like he doesn’t hear the rumors. He hated this honestly…but he guesses it’s his own fault.
He even playfully offered to take you upstairs that night but you refused him. Much too shy. So he got a better idea: the 24 hour diner down the road.
You ended up talking until 9 am the next morning, laughing and snorting, telling tons of stories that cracked the two of you up. He even shared deeply personal information with you that shocked the both of you. But it just felt right—talking to you. He felt like he could open his heart to you, like he was making a real friend.
Jungkook doesn’t have much of a dating history…he mostly just sleeps around and is okay with that—because he has to be. Like what was said earlier, Jungkook isn’t a guy you get “serious” with and all the girls knew that. It just started with one girl spreading the fact he isn’t the type to ‘do’ relationships. He thought this would cause girls to try harder and try to change him or whatever. But none cared enough. He guesses…he just isn’t worth it. Does Jungkook yearn for something more? You wouldn’t know because he has never voiced it. Even though he isn’t lucky in love, he did get super lucky in a friend. That’s you. He cherishes your friendship more than anything in the world and wouldn’t do anything to risk ruining it.
3 years ago
“What about you?” you smile at him with all your teeth, “What are your parents like?”
You didn’t know at the time but this question made Jungkook feel the very dread he avoids feeling.
He looked into your wide eyes and couldn’t help the sigh that escapes his lips.
“Dad cheated the whole time and moms not around anymore.” Jungkook picks at his cuticles.
You felt a pang of guilt for bringing it up…but you were too curious to stop.
“Where did she go?” you can’t seem to stop yourself from asking.
Jungkook pauses his bad habit, his fingers coming to a halt.
“Can we change the subject?” he finally says, a small smile spreading across his lips, “It’s like, uh…a touchy subject. Ya know?” he almost looks as if he feels bad that he can’t confide in you.
“I promise I will tell you about it someday.” He swears with his pinky joining your pinky. You felt content with his answer but somehow you knew he probably never would.
Jungkook lays in his bed with his head dangling off the edge. Its 10 at night and you’re still not back. You had another date with Taehyung today—he knows because he follows the both of you on Instagram and you posted a photo of Taehyung in front of a mural that’s located just downtown. He grabs his phone to check your location and unfortunately you are still in the same spot—Taehyungs apartment. He hates this. Why does he hate this? Because Taehyung doesn’t deserve you and what he’s doing is not right. But he can’t tell you that because none of this is his business. Instead all he does is piss you off and he hates himself for it.
He truly thinks the world of you, he truly wants nothing but the best for you and he truly loves you. You’re his best friend.
Jungkook starts to doze off when he hears the front door being unlocked. It’s you.
Quickly, Jungkook jumps to his feet and scurries to his bedroom door and places his ear over the wood. He hears you talking…then another voice. You’re not alone. Its muffled but he makes out what you’re saying.
“It was amazing T,” oh, you’re with Trina. “He got me flowers, took pictures of me and got all my best angles.” He hears you giggling then another voice joins you in your laughter.
“I told you! This was a great idea!” Trina says, Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“He was such a gentlemen the whole time and it…I know it’s not real but I don’t know man…it feels real sometimes.”
“Girl, he would be stupid not to have a thing for you.” For once, Trina and Jungkook agree on something.
“I would actually kill myself if he did!” you giggle.
Jungkook goes rigid at your words, his jaw clenching so hard it ticks. He hates when you say shit like that, it creates a suffocating bubble around him that’s too hard to pop.
.
Jungkook decides he’s eavesdropped enough and settles back on his bed. He lays back, his arms folded behind him. He feels beyond frustrated and doesn’t know what could cure this. Well, maybe sex? Maybe he should call up some girl…maybe that could make him feel better. But somehow that didn’t appeal to him so much in this moment when his brain is occupied of you. So he settles for himself. It’s been a while since Jungkook gave himself a handy but he’s not opposed of going for it.
The lights are off and Jungkook is deciding if he wants to watch porn or settle for his imagination. A girl he use to hook up with enters his mind and he decides to roll with it, he dips his hands underneath his boxers to feel up his hardening length. He reaches for his nightstand to squirt some lube in his hand, his cock is only half hard by the time he’s gently stroking himself. The skin on his cock is smooth with few veins decorating the length, he’s already leaking precum while his imagination starts up.
He thinks of this girl and her lips, how she looks with them wrapped around his greedy cock and he becomes even harder. Fuck, he can’t remember her name—a piece of shit move but he doesn’t care at this point. He’s stroking himself faster, gathering the precum at his tip and smearing it around. A light moan escapes his lips as he tugs on the head of his cock harder. His other hand drags his boxers down his legs as his continues to stroke himself and then reaches to fondle his balls. He groans at the sensation.
He then thinks of the girls ass in the air, her wiggling it around and begging him to fuck her. Her ass is round and plump, it jiggles slightly as she squirms below him. His hand moves quickly as his thoughts get dirtier. He doesn’t see her face just her ass and her voice sounds a lot like…yours. Fuck, he can’t be thinking of you right now. He’s pissed at you, his thoughts growing angry yet somehow his hand doesn’t stop. He’s so close it fucking hurts.
“Fuck…y/n..” he whimpers into his shoulder. He now sees your face, underneath him, your hair all splayed out. Your lips are swollen and you whine for him, begging for him to fuck into you faster. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut at that image, his hand stroking him impossibly fast as he is beginning to lose all composure. He shouldn’t be thinking of you right now, or ever—not like this. But he hears you beg for him, he imagines flipping you over, demanding you to raise your ass in the air. You beg to be punished, you beg for him to spank you, and he does. He pulls his hand back and slaps your needy ass and you whimper. He does it again and again.
He sees himself insert his cock into your pussy and he’s thrusting in and out like his life depends on it. Jungkook’s hand squeezes desperately around his throbbing member, he cries out quietly as he fucks you in his mind.
He imagines you reaching your own high, your moans and screams ringing in his ears and that’s what sets him over the edge. His cum spurts out of his swollen cock, spraying all over his hand as he begins to come to a stop on himself.
“fuck fuck fuck fuck” Jungkook is out of breath, his fantasy too much for him to handle. “What the fuck did I just….”
He sits in complete silence as his breathing comes down. Did he just? He is not supposed to do that.
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The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 15 of 18)
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader
Word count: 3 K
Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...
As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?
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{Stranger Things Masterlist}
×
Missing
There are seven holes. Seven. But they aren't seven different nests, they're tunnels, with seven openings to the surface of the Earth. You only know that because Eleven spent the whole night focused on finding them, seated in the living room of Joyce's place, a piece of fabric covering her eyes. The map from before remained on the floor beside her, and she reached out to draw where the tunnels reach. You barely had any sleep, just the pair of hours you slept with your head on Billy's shoulder, seated on the couch, but someone's voice woke you up.
Relief fills your heart when the morning comes. During the night, you could only think about those things lurking around. After a quick shower, and using one of Eleven's shirt, you go to the kitchen and decide to have breakfast there, where you can be alone. Eating a bowl of cereal, you run a hand through your hair, trying to understand how are you going back to the pool today and act like none of this is happening.
“Hey, princess,” Billy says, coming into the kitchen. Hair is still wet and wearing only his jacket. “Are you ok?”
“I'm trying to be.” Pushing the bowl away, you watch as he makes himself the same meal you had. “Wondering how am I going to work today.”
“Wanna stay here? I can tell Anthony that you're sick. If he even shows up.”
“No. It'll be worse if I stay.” You're confused, not sure what's the best or what's worse. But at least in the pool you'll have something normal going on.
“Hey, you two,” Joyce says as she comes in. Her voice gets your attention, and when you look at her after exchanging a glance with Billy, you see that Hopper is right behind her, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed together. “How are you two doing?”
“Uhm... Good.” It sounds like a question. Joyce sits at the table, with Hopper standing behind her. He has the chief face on, and you have no idea why. “Everything alright? Are we in trouble or something?” Gesturing at you and Billy, and cross your legs, an eye on the clock because you'll still need to stop by home to get the swimsuit.
“No, of course not. It's just that the kids were talking about something and–”
“Are you two living together?" Hopper speaks up, swallowing Joyce's words. She gives him a hard stare, and there's some kind of conversation going on through facial expressions that you can't understand.
“Yes.” You answer, not sure why you're in this situation in the first place. You feel like you're having the talk with Diane all over again. Diane. You have to call her, just to make sure everything is alright. “Why?”
“There were some rumors running around that–”
“That Billy Hargrove got some chick pregnant.” Hopper again. But this time Joyce slaps his arm.
“We agreed you'd let me do this.” She whispers.
“Then just get to the damn point.” He snaps back.
With wide eyes, you look at Billy. He doesn't seem bothered by this, peacefully eating his cereal. There's a smile on his lips that he tries to hold back, but you know him far too well now. You can see it. He's having fun.
“Look, guys, Uhm... These rumors started after I fainted on the pool, but it was from heat exhaustion, so...” Deciding to just end whatever this is, you speak up, kicking Billy's leg and whispering to him. “Say something.”
“(Y/N), honey, do your parents know about that?”
This makes you laugh, but then you remember Joyce doesn't know about your relationship, or better saying, the lack of it. “No, and I don't plan on doing that. But my aunt Diane does.”
“And she allowed it?” Hopper takes his time pronouncing every word as if this is absurd. “You're lucky you're not my daughter.”
“Hopper, just...” Joyce mumbles, her voice fading. “We just wanted to make sure you guys are... You know... Going somewhere with this. Living together is something really big and important to do.”
“I'll only say two things.” Billy finally makes his presence known, getting up and throwing his bowl in the sink. “First of all, I'm planning on marrying (Y/N). Second, we better go now or we'll be late. Again.”
There's a weird buzz in your ears as Billy takes your hand and starts pulling you with him. Joyce and Hopper have wide eyes, mouth half-open, in shock. You're not that different, and all your body is able to do is keep following Billy outside and to his car. You're silently looking through the window as he drives, but you're doing that on purpose, just to get back at him for saying that out of the blue.
“Aren't you gonna say anything?” He asks parking in front of the house.
“Absolutely not.” Stepping out of the car, you don't wait for him, heading inside. “If you really wanna do what you said, I'll patiently wait until you propose, Hargrove.” Turning around just enough to wink at him, you bite back a smile.
You're quick to get ready and manage not to be late. The song is blasting when Billy pulls over on his parking spot, and the moment the song is gone, you hear the chattering, noticing three police cars.
Your heart skips a beat when you leave the car, taking a deep breath. “Hey,” Billy calls, taking your hand. “Let's check what happened before jumping to conclusions, ok?”
“Ok.” Holding his arm, you move to the entrance, where a small crowd gathers. Hopper is here, and by the messy way of his clothes, he had to run over here. He immediately notices you and Billy, a sad look on his face. And that's when you see Monica, running a hand through her hair, tears glistening on her cheeks.
“Mon?” Calling, you let go of Billy and runs to her. Monica breaks a little bit when she sees you, and you're quick to hug her. “Mon, what happened?”
“It's Jason. My cousin is missing, (Y/N).” She cries on your shoulder, and you close your eyes tight because the first thing that comes to your head is probably what got him. The Demodogs. “He went out yesterday to buy dinner a-and his mom called mine saying he was taking long and...” You pull away, holding her hands. “...that was early evening yesterday. And he's still missing. The family spent the whole night looking for him and–”
“Mon, I'm sure we'll find him.” It's hard to lie. It's even harder not to break down in front of her. “Maybe he felt bad and fainted or something like that. We'll find him.”
“I hope so.”
“I'll drive you home, ok? Billy can keep the pools safe for one day.”
When she nods, drying off some tears, you make your way over him, who's talking to Hopper. He probably already knows, but you try to keep a straight face.
“Come here, princess.” He opens his arms and you don't even hesitate, hugging him tightly. “I'm so sorry. But we'll find him. The party is already aware of everything.” Whispering on my ear, Billy places a kiss on the top of your hair.
“I...” Getting rid of the single tear that escaped your efforts to hold it back, you pull away. “I'll take her home, she's very shaken. Can you just keep an eye–”
“Keep an eye on the kids, of course.” He bends over to kiss you, and your arms, almost automatically, move to be around his neck. “I'll pick you up after work, ok? I love you.”
“I love you.” It still makes you blush to hear those words, but you absolutely love to say it back. After one last kiss, you part ways.
Monica talks as you drive to her place, sharing memories with her cousin. Some of them you already know, but you don't stop her, laughing and making silly comments, trying to keep her mind away from the fact that Jason is missing.
Your mind also starts remembering. Obviously, you didn't have all the time around Jason that Monica had, but he was one of the first people you met when you got here. He's always smiling, carrying his siblings around, always complaining, but always happy to be with them. Jason is funny, even when he's the only one who actually gets his jokes.
Jason is missing.
Demidogs need a lot of food. An almost 6 feet tall male human has a lot of meat.
Shaking your head lightly, you push these thoughts away. No breaking down now. Monica needs you strong, to keep her strong too. Her family is either at Jason's or still looking, so you're alone. Both of you stay seated on her bed, and you give her your shoulder when she starts crying again. He's gone for one night and she's already losing it... If anything bad happens...
Her parents return home a couple of hours later, thankful to you for taking her back home. You drag her into the living room, turning the TV on this random movie and trying to convince her to pay some attention. You can hear her parents in the kitchen, making lunch, but you also hear when her mother cries, the low, cracking voice as she talks to her husband. It's getting hard by the minute to stay here, pretending you don't know what probably happened, but if you cry, if you start doubting Jason is ok, Monica will break apart.
A knock on the door, an unusually loud and frenetic knock, gets your attention. Looking over your shoulder, you see as Monica's father goes to answer it.
“Hi. Is (Y/N) here?” You hear a feminine voice, and you soon recognize it's Nancy.
Excusing yourself, you get up. “Yes, she's–”
“Hey.” You go to the front door, seeing Nancy and two cars in the sidewalk, many eyes looking at you. “Something wrong?”
“Sorry, but we need you. Uhm... Maxine is sick. We need to have a doctor check on her.”
“What?” You exclaim, running a hand through your hair. “Mon.” Calling her, you quickly make your way back to the living room. “I'm so sorry, but Maxine is feeling ill, I have to go. But I promise I'll call you later, ok?”
“Sure. Go help.” She says, nodding and clearing her throat since her voice is all clouded by her crying.
“Stay calm, honey. Jason is alright, I'm sure.” Another lie. You shouldn't make promises you don't know if you can keep. Giving her a quick hug, you run outside, muttering a goodbye to Mon's father as Nancy does the same.
“We'll go looking for him.” She says in a low voice as you move toward the cars. “We don't stand still when shit happens.”
Her choice of words makes you raise your eyebrows. You never heard her saying anything like that. “Thanks.” Muttering, you seat shotgun in Steve's car as she goes to Jonathan's. There are four kids on the back seat, fighting for some more space. You're happy to see Max is alright. For a moment, you thought she was really sick.
You park in the woods, and there are already some people here. Everyone but Hopper, because he has to be in the official search party, and Billy. God, you wish Billy was here.
“Alright, let's do this,” Mike says, and he freely starts separating you in groups. “Eleven and Will with me. Lucas, Jonathan, and Robin. Uhm... Max, Steve, and (Y/N). Joyce–”
“Why are you messing up the groups, man. I wanna go with Max.” Lucas complains and Mike rolls his eyes. “Groups of four, as usual.”
“Since when?”
“Alright, just gather in groups, c'mon, guys,” Joyce says, eyeing both her kids until they go to stand by her side, alongside Nancy.
You move to stand with Max and Lucas, and after playing rock, paper, scissors with Robin, Steve comes to your group. You raise your eyebrows at him, trying to get why they had to use that method to choose a group. “Nobody wants to be with these two lovebirds.” He says when he's close enough.
“That's something I can understand.” There's no doubt Max and Lucas are into each other, but they're constantly fighting. It's funny to watch, actually.
“Let's get started then, guys. Be careful, pay attention to the radios, and let's find Jason.” Joyce announces, taking over Hopper's role in this.
And everyone starts moving, each group in a different direction. You're going to the holes first, just to check, and then you'll cover a specific area. Max and Lucas are once again responsible for the map and walk a couple of feet ahead.
“Hey. Take this.” Steve gets your attention, taking the bat from his backpack and handing it over to you. “I know Jason was a close friend of yours. Sorry this happened.”
“Yeah.” You lay the bat over your shoulder, careful not to entangle your hair in the nails. “I really thought it couldn't get any worse but life proved me wrong.”
“I remember when Will went missing. I was a total jerk back then so I didn't really care.” You glance over to Steve, and he has an apologetic look on his face. “They found the body and there was a funeral. But the body was fake and Will was fine in the end.”
“Someone should make a movie out of that story.” You mumble, taking a deep breath. “Do you think Jason could be in the... Upside Down?”
“No. According to Eleven, no portals were open. The Demodogs just made these woods into their new home and are doing what it takes to survive.” Through the corner of your eyes, you see when he almost slips, opening his arms slightly to regain balance. “Don't laugh.” He says, but you're already chuckling. “Anyway, wherever he is, he's here.”
“Why don't we tell Eleven to just use her powers and find him. Wouldn't it be easier?”
“These woods are huge. And we usually just do that when it's the last resource.” Lucas answers.
“We don't like pushing her. It always brings back sad memories.”
That's something you can understand perfectly. “We do it the old way then.” You've seen how complicated it is. Eleven's nose wouldn't stop bleeding while she was figuring out the tunnels, and after while blood came out of her ears too. As much as you want to find Jason, you'd never ask her or the party to do something just so you'd feel better. They're in it far longer than you, so you trust them to make the decisions and set the pace. “I just hope he's alright. He's Monica's cousin, and she's worried to death.”
“Yeah, I get that.” It doesn't go unnoticed how Steve doesn't make false promises as you did with Monica. He doesn't say he's ok, that you'll find him. Running a hand through your hair, you take a deep breath, confused between having hopes or just expecting the worse. “So, changing the subject.” He speaks again. “You and Hargrove. I never thought Billy would actually fall in love.”
A smile comes to your lips, and you're thankful for having something else to think about. “Yeah. It took a while for me to believe that but he... He worked hard.” Involuntary, your hand goes for the necklace, fingers playing with the earring.
“Joyce and Hopper were saying something about marriage...” It sounds like a question, and you give Steve a glance, giggling. “They were trying not to let anyone hear them but Hopper doesn't really know how to whisper.”
By the heat spreading through your cheeks, you know you're blushing. Could it be real? Would Billy marry you? Is he really considering such a thing? “We spoke about it, Uhm... Twice, I think. But not a real conversation, he just spilled it out.”
“Holy shit, he's going serious with you then.” He playfully elbows your arm. By what you've seen and by what Max told you, Steve usually grows protective of everyone since he joined the party, and you think it's cute. He's like everyone's babysitter. “Send me an invitation, would you?”
“I will.”
“You–”
Maxine's yell cuts him short, getting your attention as you notice you have fallen behind. Immediately, you and Steve start running towards then.
“Man, that's...” Lucas says as Max hugs him, eyes tightly shut.
You're about to ask them what the hell happened when you follow Lucas' scared stare.
It's a weird sensation when you're brain refuses to take in the information. When your eyes, focused on something, are blind. And your ears are deaf and the wind blowing doesn't touch your skin. It's like you're not there.
Jason's body is stuck between a big rock and a dead tree. His torso is opened up, and there's nothing inside.
As there's nothing inside Jason anymore. He's empty. Body and soul. There will be no laughter leaving his lips, no more jokes, no more arms to carry his baby siblings around. Nothing. Just flesh and bones, both ripped apart.
“(Y/N).” You're sure it's not the first time you hear someone calling your name, but you're not even sure where it comes from.
You only move when an arm pulls you, and you feel it around you. “We have to go. C'mon.” Steve says, and, far and distant, you hear static, and voices, coming from the radio. “(Y/N).”
“I need Billy.” It's the only thing that comes to your head, and you find a way to force the words out of your throat.
“Alright, let's go,” Steve says, and you're only set on motion because of his arm around your shoulders.
Everything is a blur. You notice people moving around, and some of them come to hug you as they start regrouping near the cars. Nodding and thanking their kind words, you remain silent, arms crossed, the image still burning in your brain.
Jason's rib cage broken open, the blood staining his clothes and the ground around him. His head twisted in an awkward way, neck probably disconnected from the body.
“Let's get moving. She wants to talk to Billy.”
“The pool will close in an hour. Take her home.”
“No, she's scaring me. We need to take her to Billy.” Max intervenes, and Steve pulls you to his car. You let Max seat shotgun, feeling better in the backseat where you can curl into a ball, knees pressed against your chest as the landscape passes by.
It reminds you the first time you saw that thing. You were trying to beat Billy, driving back to your place. Maybe, if you had gone to the police station the next day, let them know something was out there, you could've avoided this. But who would believe you? You didn't believe it either. What are you going to tell Monica? After saying things would be ok, that they would find Jason alive and well when you knew being out in the woods all night long probably meant he'd become Demodog's meal.
You knew it, yet you lied. Vain hope is the worst kind of hope, and that's what you gave her.
“(Y/N).” Steve gets your attention, touching your shoulder. “We're at the pool.”
Blinking a few times to wake up from the stupor, you bolt out of the car, making your way to the entrance. It's crowded today, but you don't see faces, you just see obstacles.
It finally starts kicking in.
You went to find Jason, and you did. But instead of the dear friend you so easily grew to love, you found a dead, empty corpse. The tears threat to overflow as you rudely bump into people, making your way through the pool. At a distance, you see the moment Billy finally notices the commotion, his eyes quick to find you. By the way his face changes, the way he takes off his sunglasses and jumps to the ground, shoving people out of his way, you must be looking terrible.
But you don't care. Billy is everything you need, the only thing you see and you know you can break down in his arms. You just need to reach him, and when you do, you collapse against his chest, not able to hold back the tears anymore, the sobs building up your throat as you hold onto him.
“I'm so sorry,” Billy mumbles in your ear. He knows. How could he not?
You suddenly feel him lifting you up, and you hide your teary face on the crook of his neck. Seconds later you're at the locker room, and Billy screams for the other girls to get out as he puts you down, seated on one of the benches.
“I'm so sorry, (Y/N).” He repeats, kneeled before you, thumbs coming to dry off some tears, just to make space for more.
“I saw him. H-he was all eaten, Billy. His body was-his body was wide open and everything was gone–”
“Stop, stop.” He begs, pulling you into a hug. “You don't have to tell me, not now.” Nodding, you take in his scent, feeling safe, secure, despite the terror creeping under your skin. “I'll take you home, ok?”
“No.” You mutter, pulling away just enough so you're foreheads are touching. You don't know what comes to you, but this has to be said. This feeling has to be let out. Not after, not tomorrow. Now. Maybe it's the fact that you saw death for the very first time. You just need to let him know “You're my home.”
×
@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @halloweenbitch2764 @redlovett @multific @shinydixon @nikkixostan @clockworkballerina @nope-thanks
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penaltbox · 3 years
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you’re my weakness - brock caufield
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the biggest of thank you’s goes out to @puckyess​ for writing at least half of this new fic with me via text lol. if you like it pleeeease reblog and give feedback!! it means so much to me 😊 it’s a short one but i love it a lot!
__________
Ty walks by the bathroom around 9 in the morning and he’s barely struck by the music floating out from the other side of the door. He frowns and stops in his tracks, leaning towards it to try and understand what he was hearing. He smirks a little when he realizes and heads for the kitchen, ready to grab some breakfast and plan how to pick on Brock that day.
It doesn’t take long before he gets his shot and Brock comes walking out, fully dressed and smiling away. Ty laughs as soon as he sees his teammate, causing the other boy to give him a weird look. 
Ty nods in his direction, a sly smile on his own face, “someone’s up early today.”
Brock feels his cheeks heat up a little but he shrugs it off. He’s sure Ty knows what his plans entail for the day considering he spent almost all of his free time with you anyways, but he isn’t about to confirm that. It apparently doesn’t deter the captain though because he keeps the questions rolling. 
“Since when do you listen to Dan and Shay so much? I heard it when you were in the shower,” Ty asks again, his grin growing little by little as Brock grows more flustered.
“Why are you listening to me shower, you weirdo? And why are you in my apartment? Don’t you have your own to be at?” Brock deflects, reaching into the fridge to grab a bottle of water. 
He knows exactly where he got the urge to listen to Dan and Shay so often and it’s from you. You were the reason he was always so giddy on weekends that he didn’t have hockey. You were the reason he heard love songs in a different way nowadays. You were the reason he was up and had his hair done all before 10am. He was crazy about you. 
“I ended up spending the night. Robbie and I were watching some film pretty late. She coming here or are you meeting her somewhere?” Ty asks, knowing why Brock was up and ready, too. 
“Here to start but I think we’re going to get food right away. She was saying she wants to try this place in Verona the other day so I wanted to take her there. Try not to pick on her too much while she’s here please.”
Ty’s smile turns soft suddenly and he’s really starting to freak Brock out. 
“Dude, what’s that look for? Why are you being such a creep this morning?” Brock asks, side eyeing his teammate.
Ty nudges Brock with an elbow as he walks past him, setting his empty cereal bowl in the sink, “you’ve got it bad, huh?”
Brock opens his mouth to give him a smart comeback but the air gets stuck in his throat. He hadn’t thought too hard about it before. He knew he enjoyed being with you and knowing you were his, but had it really become something more without him realizing it?
“I mean I like her, yeah” he finally replies as his cheeks get rosier by the minute. 
“Oh you just like her? That’s all it is?” Ty presses, folding his arms over his chest and looking smug.
“Yes, I like her. What are you getting at?” Brock questions, wondering why Ty was pressing so hard on the subject.
“Uh huh. Where were you last night? Whose apartment did you come from that made you late to practice two days ago? Who were you FaceTiming on the bus three nights ago? Whose place did you rush over to once we got off said bus? Who makes your face light up every time you get a text? Who do you look for every time you score?” 
Brock finally has to cut him off, his cheeks feeling like they’re on fire as the realization starts to set in, “Okay, maybe I more than like her.”
“So when are you gonna tell her? How do you even bring that up to a girl? Are you gonna say it? The l-word I mean.” 
Brock’s head is spinning from all the questions. How is this something Ty saw before he even knew it? Was he that obvious about it? He’s trying to piece it all together, but he knows he’s on a time crunch before you show up at his door.
 “I don’t know dude! I just realized it so I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” he snaps a little and Ty immediately holds his hands up in defense.
Ty knew Brock just needed a nudge because he doubted how you still liked him after all this time, but everyone around the two of you knew just how smitten you both were with each other. Brock has another question pop into his head immediately and this one makes his stomach sink a little.
“You think she might l-...you know, be into me too?” he asks hesitantly.
Ty laughs when Brock asks because yes you absolutely have the l-word for him and Brock was just too slow to realize it. 
“You both look at each other like you hung the moon. Of course she loves you,” Ty shakes his head and well, Brock pretty much wants to run and find you right then and there.
This piece of information has Brock’s head and heart running a mile a minute but his feet are frozen in place. He knows what he wants to do but he can’t seem to get his body to move quite as fast as his thoughts are running at that moment. 
“Dude, what’re you still standing here for? You have somewhere to be!” Ty tells him. 
Brock finally manages to pull it together but when he goes to practically run out the door you’re already there, ready to knock, with coffee in your hands. Brock freezes and Ty lets out a loud laugh that has you immediately confused.
You’re shocked to see him all flustered and Ty with the biggest shit eating grin behind him so you’re immediately a little concerned. This certainly wasn’t how most mornings went when you stopped by their place. You’re actually surprised Ty is even up yet, let alone standing there looking so smug.
“B, are you okay? You look warm,” you ask, glancing back at Ty again. 
“He’s just done a lot of thinking,” Ty drops before walking out of the room quickly, or at least out of sight. You’re almost certain he’s probably right around the corner, but that’s not your concern at the moment. You don’t like the words he’d used and immediately start to think the worst. 
“Thinking about what?” You barely whisper out, assuming Brock was breaking up with you.
Ty knows he pulled a little shit move but Brock needed the push. He was so nervous to bring it up but he knows he has to calm you down from the bomb Ty dropped in his lap. This isn’t at all how he would have thought telling you about his feelings would go, but here he was and he was feeling worse and worse about the scared look in your eyes as you stood in front of him. 
He’s able to see your wheels turning and he can’t help but think to himself that he really does know you. He’s quick to pull you in for a hug though and reassure you it’s nothing bad. 
“Hey, hold on. Don’t go down that road right now,” he mumbles, pulling back just enough to look down at you. He tucks a hair behind your ear, “I want to talk to you about something serious, but it’s not a bad serious, okay?”
You can hear in the slight waiver of his voice that he’s nervous too and a million ideas are popping into your head as to why he might be like this. You two had been fine just last night so what could have changed in the short amount of time you were apart? You nod at him though, wanting to get the inevitable out of the way so you could relax or run back to your own apartment and cry sooner rather than later. 
 “Okay, go ahead,” you nod, trying to reassure him. He was usually a pretty open book with you and he feels somewhat guarded. It’s doing nothing to calm the bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
Brock glances over his shoulder before shaking his head as he looks at you, “no, let’s go in my room. I’d rather do this somewhere more private.”
You hear a thud followed by a low ‘ouch!’ that lets you know Ty was still around the corner and you see him walk by and out onto the balcony, despite the cooler temperature outside.You know it was his way of giving you two privacy but it only fuels your dread.
Brock’s expression softens though and he reaches for the coffees that are still gripped tightly in your hands, “thank you for the coffee. I really appreciate it.”
He takes the still warm cups and sets them on the counter, motioning for you to follow him the rest of the way to his room. What once felt like your second home now felt charged with nerves and anything but comfortable. Brock steps aside and lets you into the space first, leaning back against the door after he closes it. The flood gates open before he even realizes it and suddenly the words tumble out quickly.
“I’m in love with you.”
You turn around quickly, wide eyes locking on him as your jaw drops. Did you hear him right? Did he say what you think he just said? No wonder he’d been so nervous. The lack of reaction from you, other than pure shock, had him thinking he’d made the wrong choice and it was far too early in the relationship for a confession like this. 
Apparently you take too long to process his confession because he turns around suddenly, reaching for the door handle and very much ready to bolt from his own room. You somehow get your brain and body to work together and quickly make your way in between Brock and the door.
“Wait!” you say, putting your hands on his chest and looking up at him, “please don’t leave.”
You and Brock just freeze, staring at each other for a second before he breaks first, “just tell me you don’t feel that way for me yet and we can move on. I can wait to hear you say it. It’s fine.” 
But you do feel the same, you’re just not sure how to say it because you’ve never said it to a boy before. You take a deep breath, your fingers flexing a little against the fabric of his t-shirt. He’s keeping you grounded in that moment and you need it so much more than he’ll ever know.
“But I do feel the same. I do love you. I’m in love with you, too,” you finally mumble, slowly looking up and locking eyes with him. The soft smile and look of adoration on his face makes your knees go weak and you feel your own cheeks start to redden. 
His tone is as soft as his look when he asks, “are you sure? You don’t have to say it just because I did.”
You shake your head and lean against him, arms slipping around his waist as you finally smile, “no I really do mean it. I was just really afraid to say it first because I didn’t want to seem like a psycho clingy girlfriend or anything.”
“Does that make me a psycho clingy boyfriend then because I said it first?” he asks, but the teasing half smile you get from him lets you know he’s only teasing.
You laugh and grab the back of his neck, gently pulling him down for a kiss that you intended to start slow, but it quickly heats up. Brock keeps things under control somehow, but can’t help the small moan that he lets out when you gently bite his bottom lip.
“Everyone is still home, including our random plus one of Ty. He’s probably eavesdropping right now. Plus I was going to take you out for breakfast but it’s more like lunch now if you still want to go,” he says, his hand gently rubbing up and down your side.
Small goosebumps break out under his touch, and you nod at his suggestions, “I’d love to go get lunch with you.”
A quick kiss that he intentionally keeps short is all you’re left with before he opens his door again, always letting you go first like the gentleman he was. Cole joins Ty on the couch in the living room, smiling when he sees you.
“Oh hi, didn’t expect to see you so early. Ty tells me you two finally fessed up on your feelings for each other,” Cole says, his smile just as teasing as the one on the captain’s face next to him.
You and Brock look at each other, surprise clear on both your features. Apparently you were both late to the party when it came to knowing you both were head over heels in love, but you didn’t mind. It was a party you planned to stay at for the rest of your life if you had any say in the matter.
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keelywolfe · 3 years
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FIC: Snowdrifts ch.4 (spicyhoney)
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Summary: It's Edge's first day as a stay-at-home child caregiver. It'll be fine, he has a plan! How much trouble can one little baby be?
Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones
Read it on AO3
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Read it here!
~~*~~
“All right, child, we need to come to an understanding,” Edge said firmly, hands on his hips. He was standing over Snow, who was in her highchair, sucking vigorously on her fingers and looking up at him with wide eye lights. They were alone in the Swap brothers’ kitchen in the late morning, all the others having consumed breakfast and gone off to the respective jobs or job searches as the case may be. Blue made a hearty breakfast of eggs and sausages, and if grape jelly wasn’t Edge’s preferred seasoning for sunny side up yolks, he certainly wasn’t about to start his tenure here by complaining about the food.
Tomorrow he would get up earlier to make breakfast, Edge told himself. He’d been here for two nights now, he needed to begin adjusting to his new sleep schedule and stop lying about in bed. Today he would be implementing some changes and as former Captain of the Snowdin guard, it was up to him to maintain order. He could do this and now was the time to begin.
“Today I start on my duties as your caretaker and also homemaker,” Edge announced to his audience of one. “I am going to wash the breakfast dishes now. You,” he pointed a finger at Snow and she tried to focus on the sharpened tip, her large eye lights crossing, “will remain there until I am finished. You have your cereal and toys, keep yourself busy and I will be finished soon."
With that, Edge gave her a last nod and turned towards the sink. Before he could even stick his hands into the soapy water, Snow let out a wail.
He hunched down as if struck by a blow and turned back towards her. “No,” he said sternly. “I can’t carry you all day, I have chores to do. You have food and toys, you can entertain yourself.”
Unfortunately, Snow was not at all receptive to his perfectly sound reasoning. Large tears were rolling down her plump cheekbones and she batted away the little bowl of cereal. It fell off the tray to the floor, scattering tiny ‘o’s across the linoleum. Both her upraised arms reached for him as she bawled loudly and Edge, who once walked home on a broken ankle without so much as limping to keep the weakness concealed, folded like a paper sack in a rainstorm.
He pulled the tray loose, scattering more cereal bits, and swept her into his arms, patting her back as he crooned, “All right, shhhh, it’s all right, little one. It’s all right.”
The tears dried up with suspicious ease and soon Snow was chortling happily again. Any move towards putting her in the chair made those joyful sounds melt away and Edge was forced to settle her into his lap as he sat on the floor to clean up the newest mess. Between the two of them, they picked up most of the fallen cereal with entirely too much of it ending up in Snow’s mouth before he could stop her.
“I suppose we should be grateful Blue keeps his floor clean,” Edge sighed.
“Brzzt,” Snow replied as she chewed happily on another filched floor treat.
It became an endless cycle. He would attempt to set her down, the child would cry, and Edge would cave and quickly pick her back up. The dishes sat in the sink untouched, the dregs of jelly and eggs drying into crusts while Edge could do nothing to prevent it.
It was hours later when Snow finally started drooping, her little sockets growing heavy. Edge sat with her in the recliner and rocked her to sleep, and then with the same care one might use while handling a volatile soufflé, Edge eased her into her little pillow pile and sighed in relief. If she kept true to her schedule, she’d sleep for at least an hour and that would give him enough time to wash the dishes, perhaps fold yesterday’s laundry and—
The front door flew open hard enough to crash into the other wall as Stretch came in, dusted with snow and his cheekbones flushed bright orange from the cold as he sang out, “lunchtime! what’s shakin’, bacon, got anything cookin’, good lookin’?””
He’d barely finished his verbal abuse of pork products and cookery before Snow began to wail.
“I just got her to sleep! Why would you—!“ Edge realized he was wailing at nearly the same volume as the baby and shut his mouth with a hard click, gritting his teeth until he tasted dust.
“whoopsie, sorry, sugar butt!” Stretch only laughed and Edge reminded himself that dusting was not considered a suitable punishment in Underswap, even for a crime so heinous as this one. Stretch kicked off his shoes and walked over to scoop her up, snuggling her until her cries dimmed down into tired hiccoughs. “didn’t mean to bust in on naptime.” He cocked a brow bone at Edge, who only slumped down and glared back. “must’ve been a rough morning sitting on the sofa the whole time, huh? lazing around ain’t exactly your modus operandi.”
“Lazing!” Edge sputtered. He shot to his feet and managed to lower his voice just in time as Stretch hissed a warning. “I have not been sitting on the sofa! I have been trying to get some housework done, but Snow keeps crying if I’m not holding her! I’ve yet to do the morning dishes, there’s laundry waiting to be folded. I’d planned to make lunch for you all and all I have to offer is you floor cereal!” He took a deep breath, ashamed of how close it sounded to a sob and swung away from Stretch, facing the wall and admitting to the blank drywall, “I don’t think I can do this.”
“woah, hang on,” Stretch said behind him. “pull back on the reins for a sec. edge, this is your first day at this, okay? bet you didn’t learn all your puzzles in one day.”
“Puzzles are complex tools that take weeks of planning, she is one child!”
“kids are plenty complex, edgelord, until you figure out how they work.” He sidled up next to Edge and slung an arm around his shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. “you know, letting her cry a bit isn’t gonna hurt her. if she’s clean and fed, she can take sitting on the floor for a little while.”
“No,” Edge said decisively. “I will not allow her to think her cries are going unheard, she’s not sobbing into a void in my presence.” When he turned to look at Stretch, he saw the other skeleton was giving him a strange little smile. “What?”
He only shook his head, sighing out, “oh, you got it bad already.”
“Got it? Got what, I can’t be sick,” Edge said, and already panic was starting to swell. “If I’m sick, I’ve been holding the baby all day, she could be ill as well!”
“nah, edgelord, calm down,” Stretch chuckled, “it ain’t contagious, well, not like that, and even if it was, it wouldn’t hurt anybody.” That crooked little smile widened. “think we’re all developing a serious case of superfluous adoptive parentalitis.”
It took entirely too long for Edge’s weary mind to puzzle that out and when he did, he could only sigh in exasperation. “You aren’t helping.”
“never said i was, but don’t you worry, edgelord, i got tricks up my sleeves that amateur houdinis only wish they knew. hang on.”
He went into the other room, still cradling the drowsy baby, and came back with Edge’s scarf, embarrassingly wrinkled from its overstay in the dryer. Edge watched in confusion as Stretch knotted the ends together, then tied it across Edge’s chest into a sort of sling.
“okay, snowflake, in we go.” Deftly, he slipped the baby into the scarf before Edge could protest. He nearly panicked, expecting the baby to come crashing out to the floor. Instead, her little bottom settled snugly into the pocket it created, her short legs spread on either side of his ribcage. She snuggled in contently, yawning widely as she cuddled in against his sternum, and drifted almost immediately to sleep.
“see?” Stretch said softly. “she doesn’t want your arms, she only wants to be close, and now your hands are free. well, kinda, she’ll probably keep ‘em pretty full one way or another.” He smiled wryly, tucking his own hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “i’d tell you to let the housework go, but i’m pretty sure i’d be wasting my breath.”
“Other houseparents manage,” Edge said, firmly, “I will, too!”
“oh yeah?” Stretch countered, “other houseparents manage with no help at all, huh. how many other houseparents do you know?”
“I know enough.”
Stretch crossed his arms over his chest. “name three.”
Edge floundered, unprepared for the sudden quiz, “Um...the Cleavers, the Cunninghams—"
“from tv doesn’t count.”
Years of experience taught Edge when it was time to abandon a strategy. “That doesn’t matter. Other households don’t matter. I will manage this!”
“uh huh.” Edge was too startled to flinch when Stretch reached up and gently took hold of his face with both hands, his slim fingers still chilly from the cold outdoors. “remember what i said about not slapping away any helping hands.”
“You did help,” Edge admitted grudgingly. He tugged the scarf a little more securely around Snow. The baby didn’t stir, only slept on peacefully. “This was a good idea.”
“gonna help more, too,” Stretch said cheerily, dropping his hands and pitching his voice low, “you head over to the breakfast dishes and i’ll get lunch on track, yeah?”
“But—”
“i didn’t starve before you got here, edgelord, i can make sandwiches.”
It was the truth, Edge knew it was, and yet it still didn’t sit well. The bargain was that he would stay home instead of earning G, he should be able to do this, how could one tiny baby take up so much time and energy…that thought was abruptly derailed and Edge nearly jumped out of his clothes as Stretch gave him a little slap on the backside before strolling towards the kitchen. Retaliation wasn’t possible while he was holding the child, but Edge made a mental note to add this transgression to his tally as he followed after him.
The urge for any revenge reluctantly vanished when Stretch suddenly swung around and leaned in to drop a soft kiss on top of Snow’s skull. It was enough of a distraction that he couldn’t react when that quick kiss was transferred to his own mouth. Stretch didn’t linger to watch Edge gape at him, only headed to the refrigerator and began scrounging through it, leaning in to survey the contents.
“hmm, we got some leftover chicken, how about some chicken salad—eep!” Stretch whirled around on a yelp, rubbing his backside as he stared in disbelief at Edge, who was already making his way to the sink and the dishes.
“What was that?” Edge asked coolly. “Something about playing chicken?”
That sudden grin should have been worrisome, but Edge only felt a trill of anticipation as Stretch said with dark, deep intent, “oh, don’t you worry, honey, i can play. but first, lunch.”
Yes, lunch, that was in order. As Edge washed the dishes, the baby sleeping warmly against his chest and the plates clinking softly in the soapy water, he considered what sort of games Stretch might have in mind. Once he got a handle on this parenting strategy, he might switch his focus to the puzzle of Stretch. It would have to wait, for now, because when he began, Edge was certain it was a mystery that would require his full attention.
tbc
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randomsevans · 4 years
Text
The habit part 2
@jtargaryen18 30daysofchris2020
'How could you let your self be so foolish ' you kept telling yourself all night along .With the tears, throwing pillows (anything you could get your hands on ) around . Needles to say , you didnt get any sleep again and you see if being that way for a while .
After a long day of advoiding Steve in the gym , you dont think you have ever worked out more in your life , your knuckles were close to bleeding, many times Bucky had to keep telling you to stop. It wasnt till night fell you could truly let your emotions out . It wasnt till you caused a loud sound that echoed though the tower , when you though your lamp . When Nat and Bucky came to your room and looked after you again .
The morning air was quite and cold , Nat and Buck had went to go and get breakfast as you stayed your room to get change . You felt numb as if your soul was gone . You dont know why you feel like this, you cant help it , but it's not like you two were anything . You were just stuiped to catch feeling for something he probably seen has he being nice . That why it makes it feel so worst , you cant be mad . How can you ? Its Steve the most kindest human with those stuiped blue eyes . The only person you should be mad at is your self .
Turning a corner you felt half asleep . In zombie mode . You were looking at your feet which were slowly making there way forward when you collided with a wall and fell straight on your ass . "God ,y/,n you in there ? Someone tired this morning?" Arrr great clint , your never gonna live this down
"Ass !" You said getting up.
"Well you just fell on yours " clint laught walking into the kitchen "ha guy ,guess I didnt know we had a zombie in the compand?" He shouted annoyingly to group of people that were all around the table as he sat down .
You begin to walk over not amused by Clint or anyone , when you notice there was no seats left . Everyone was in there own conversation, talking about the most stuiped morning shit . You quickly glance maybe there might be one seat . No none . You looked at steve he had the biggest smile on his face, laughing as hes arm was behind Sharon was was snug against his side smiling. In your seat . Your chest tightened again . But you didnt know what more for a the fact no one saw you, Sharon and Steve or that fact . YOUR seat was taken . You have never felt so alone and pushed out of the group like you dont belong. There were all happy, your dark mood would just worsen their day , if they even knew you were there .
You turned to the kitchen and got a bowl , some cereal you randomly picked up . And turned around to walk out the room . As you left you heard to echoes of laughter as you made your way back into your room with clouded eyes . It wasnt till you reached outside your room you looked at the bowl . You forget the milk . 'Wow y/n good . Oh what the fuck I'm not even hungry!'you thought as you though the bowl toward the wall opposite your door . You just watched it smash into pieces, going all over the follow , watching the cereal slip every where ,bouncing along the corridor . You just stared at it , feeling numb , not even feeling bad for making a mess you are not going to clean up . You just thought what a symbol for your heart . Your not even sure you have one anymore .
You entered your room , slowly as if you were scared to move to fast .
"Friday " you called out .
"Yes Miss y/l/n ?"
"Dont let anyone in my room ..." you began " if anyone even comes looking " you whispered the last part .
"Do you intend to stay in here to day miss ."
"Yes I'm staying "
"Are you sick ?"
"Of life " you mumbled "no I just want to stay in here " you said more firmly.
"But miss you have training with Captain Roger's at 10 am "
"Cancel it ! ... in fact cancel all my sessions with him , change it to either Barnes or Romanoff!"
"Cancel ! ... Captain Roger's has been informed and his new partner will be miss Carter under his request " she announced , now that stings " I'm sorry miss but Barnes and Romanoff already booked their session and theres no changing.."
"I'll do it my self then .."
"M'sorry miss you cant ..."
"I can !"
"Its not saf....."
"It doesnt matter anyway Friday , I'll do it my self , Its not big deal , and if anyone ask I'm out !"
"Okay miss "
Silence. Silence fill the room , bring pain to your ear drums . You walk toward your bed and lift the covers and plop your self in between the cover , pulling the blanked over your head . You let out a loud sob as your head hit the pillow , mufling the sound as cold tears stream down your hot cheeks . You feel like you cant breath between the weight of the sheets over your head and your sobbing.
This was your new habit
You feel your eyes become heaving as your breath become even more irregular and tear ducts dry , you felt your mind wonder into darkness .
○●○○●○○●○○●○○●○○
'BANG!'
You jumped a wake , 'god what time is it?' Your mind was pounding much like the door , adrenaline though your veins
"Y/n ?" Bucky , okay so you know that voice . Your mind still fuzzy from walking up
"What's going on ?" You hurned another voice outside 'Tony ?' You think
"Is everything okay ?" Your heart stopped ' Steve ?'
"NO ITS NOT !" You heard Nat .'god is the whole team outside.
"What the matter " great Sharon
"Nothing to concern you " bucky anger shown in his voice .
"Ha Buck calm down no need to be like that to my girl " Steve defended .
"Oh fuck off would ya " Bucky shout " y/ n please open up !"
"Bucky calm down " Tony yelled over Bucky ."Friday open the door "
"I'm sorry sir I cant "
"What ! "
"Dont you think we've tried that tony "Nat now sounded worried "y/n I know your in there "
"Miss y/n is out " Friday said .
"See she out ! No need to be like this " steve
"No she hasn't left the compand I check to carma s , have you even seen her today ?" Natasha now sounds on the verge of tears , while you sat still on your bed scared to move.
"No .. no I havnt , she cancel our session " Steve voice wavered in panic " is shes okay?"
"Maybe shes sick , Friday is y/n sick ? " Tony ask .
"Of life sir " Friday respond ,great she heard that.
Gasp were heard out side , you ran into the bathroom scared as if you were a child in trouble you sat your self on the floor, knees tucked under your chin , rocking back and forth , more tears rolling down , how is more tears even possible at this point?
More ponding at the door. "Y/n please tell me you haven't done something stuiped ?" Bucky sounded as if he was near to crying , with considnt pouncing at your door . "Please!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs " open the door "
"She just probably being dramatic " you heard sharon wining voice .The next thing your heard was a loud shudder as somthing hit the floor , followed by screams of "NAT ! " "ROMANOFF!" "NATASHA !"
"Say that again and I'll kill you "
"Nat stop " steve switch to his cap voice "open the door y/n .. come on this isn't funny "
"Leave now "Bucky challenged Steve .
"No not until I know shes okay !" Steve challenged Bucky .
"She will be when you leave !"
"But ..." Steve began
"Why do you even care ?" Bucky shouts
"Because I lo....."
"Steve please " you heard sharon crying.
"Oh babe ...come on .. Nat apologise!"
"Over my dead body ... now every one leave " nat voice filled with authority.
"Okay !" Followed by foot steps heading the other direction.
"Y/n everyone's left it's just me and Buck , open up , we ain't mad just worried open up please or at least let us know your okay?"
Silence . You dont know how long . But it was just silent .
In a low whisper your voice barely cracking though the thick abosant of sound " friday inform them I'm okay "
"Of course miss " friday respond.
Silence again . Once again you wernt able to measure the amount of time due to your fuzzy mind .
"Okay. Come out when your ready , eh ? Just know your not going to push us away " bucky said
"And what did a bowl of cereal ever do to you eh " Natasha let out a small laugh . Which caused you to make a small chuckle.
You found strength and wonder to your door slowly ,pulling it open to reveal two very red eyed worried assistant. You wander how you can make two of the most deadly people in the world near to tears .
"It didnt have milk" you put on a small innocent smile .
Bucky grinning down at you with Natasha on his side even smiling more . "There she is "
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sugarfreecapsicle · 5 years
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neighborly 2/2
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moodboard by the one and only @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan
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moodboard by the lovely @ohcaptainmystan
part two of two for my submission to @buckygrantbarnes writing challenge! hope you enjoy!
warnings: so much fluff oh my god
NeighborAU
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(gif credit)
A week ago Natasha had relieved Bucky of his cat-sitting duties. Sometimes he missed the little shit, but then he remembered all the rips in his curtains and holes under his sofa and the feeling all but vanished. The apartment was close to holding no remaining trace of Vlad the Impaler (not his actual name that Bucky couldn’t remember even if he tried) - but all he could think about in the aftermath was the tone in your voice the first and last night you’d spoken to him.
Sounds like it’s better I don’t.
Your dog hadn’t had a reason to bark, Bucky assumed - he hadn’t received another sticky note. Those he would readily admit he missed. You matched him in your short lived battle of wits, and you definitely didn’t look at all the way he’d imagined - no green skin, hairy wart on an angular nose, no peaked black hat. Alarmingly beautiful, in fact, and he wasn’t at all prepared for you.
Bucky sips at his beer and stares at the piano, still pushed up against the adjoining wall to your apartment. The floor creaks underneath his stride, new thoughts battling for the win of his ultimate decision.
The padding of the bench desperately needs replacing, but it’s an expense he can put off a while longer. The wooden cover squeaks away, revealing the tarnished ivory and ebony keys underneath. Tuning the piano had been necessary although unaffordable. The first note coursed from his fingertip to his chest, a comforting sigh against the chaotic ambiance of Brooklyn outside his window.
Beau’s ears perked, a small boof alerting you to something new. Music, piano specifically - and it sounded like it was coming from your neighbor’s apartment. A small indiscretion revealed to you that maybe the blue-eyed babysitter didn’t have a radio blasting but was actually playing. 
Bowl of cereal in hand, you step barefoot over to the wall, eyebrows furrowed as you attempt to remember the tune. Familiar, maybe from high school lessons on classical pianists or even in the background of a LooneyToons episode. He started out a little unsure, tentative against the keys then gradually became reassured, confident into a beautiful rendition. All too soon, the song ended, and your heart sank as your legs bent, back sliding against the wall that once reverberated with sound. Your ears became so eager in hope for another song, you noticed the timbre of your breathing. Should you knock? Should you try to make a request through the drywall and paint?
You adjusted on the floor, setting the bowl down where Beau happily drank up the remaining milk. Pink notes danced in the artificial breeze from your oscillating fan.
Returning from another run in the park - this time notably without Steve who had taken up the mantle of team leader on a new project - Bucky wanted nothing more than a meaty breakfast and a quiet morning. He hadn’t bothered looking up from his keys until the lock turned over, and he grinned.
Talented Tenant,
Think you could play some Tchaikovsky tonight? Nocturne in C-minor is a personal favorite, if you happen to know it.
Thanks
Admiring Acquaintance
Late night television clips with canned audience laughter hummed through your otherwise noiseless apartment, Beau napping on the couch beside you. You’d been distracted at work, replaying the daydream over and over again of gentle piano music flowing into your apartment again, soon followed by your neighbor knocking on your door with variants of flowers, chocolates, something entirely corny that could only make sense in a teenage after-school-special. Being his neighbor wasn’t so bad with the cat gone, and even if Beau barked at the noise of the piano, it was nothing compared to his panicked yelping in the days prior. Even in the city that never sleeps, the sounds of the night muffled to a low din of generic noise like chatter in an office building. 
And gently, lowly, you heard it - your request. Unable to hide your grin, you sink lower into your sofa, disturbing Beau only a little. He didn’t even make a noise, an eye open and single ear perked in mild interest. The melody sends you reeling, hand skirting the floor as you splay out, knees arching over your canine friend.
You don’t remember falling asleep, but thank any deity that might exist Saturday was upon you instead of a workday. Sunlight entered through the linen curtains, a soft glow filling your cozy space. Beau now lay on the floor, asleep and snoring lightly, and you allowed your body to stretch out your sore muscles from cramped sleep.
In your routine of coffee brewing and kibble for Beau, you wondered if the olive branch might reach further than one lullaby. Steaming brew in hand, you step on the balls of your feet to the front door and check.
A blue note flutters against the painted blue.
Beautiful Boarder,
I hope you enjoyed last night’s piece. Join me tonight for a private concert?
Bucky
Armed with a name and reassurance, you scribble your reply and place it by his doorknob. Your door is open when you hear the click and rattle of his and can’t stop yourself from shuffling inside quickly. 
Brows knitted together, Bucky stares at your door momentarily then addresses the pink slip of paper. 
Bucky,
Give me a time, and I’ll be there. Black tie affair?
He smiles, but sinks a little noticing your lack of signature. 
Normally I’d say black tie, but since it’s Saturday, let’s settle for anything comfortable. See you at seven.
Maybe it’s too much that you’ve nearly emptied your closet in search of an outfit when the designation of comfort had been established. Nothing felt right, seemed right, for the occasion if it could even be considered one. First impressions long gone, but could this be considered new territory? Was it still some kind of apology?
Ten minutes to seven, you managed a shower and brushed teeth but lingered by your bed with clothes piled around. Jeans would do, your favorite pair was soft enough, and a shirt you’d nabbed from Target’s men’s section french-tucked in the front would have to suffice. Beau sat obediently nearby and watched as you psyched yourself up in the half mirror by your dresser.
“I won’t be long, bud,” you say as you fuss with your hair. “Behave while I’m gone, okay?”
Beau gets a pat on the head as you walk out, mindfully slipping keys into your pocket. You knock on the door, painted the same blue as yours, and shift your weight heel to toe and back again. His lock clicks, the door opens, and oh, he’s grinning like the sun came out from behind rainclouds. 
“Glad you accepted,” he says, leaning into a one-armed hug. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to step foot in here.”
He pulls away, and you can’t help but notice an absence on his left - an arm that had once been there now gone. Your glance had hopefully only been a flicker and hadn’t interrupted your shy grin. “Jury is still out on the want, but I’ll let you know if they approve after the show you promised me.”
Bucky ushers you in and revels in your gentle gasp. Candles illuminated the space entirely, low warm light spreading from his kitchenette where a meager dinner was plated to the mainstage of the piano. 
“Too much?”
You turn to face him, still a bit dazed and smirk. “It’s very Phantom of the Opera.”
“That a good thing?” An eyebrow quirks as he leads you to the proffered meal of roasted chicken, assorted vegetables and wine. 
“Very.” 
Bucky is sure that if you keep drinking in his efforts like a kid in a candy store the dopey grin won’t leave his face all night. 
“Good. I hope dinner’s -” he pauses, looking up at you impishly. You’ve already dribbled a little sauce down your chin, and Bucky can’t resist running his thumb over the streak to smudge it away. “ - alright?”
You both laugh, a pink flush over your cheeks as you chew the remaining bite in your mouth. A thumbs up is manageable given the circumstances, and after the bite is swallowed you divulge your passion for cooking. Bucky actively listens, teases you intermittently until plates are cleared. You insist on doing the dishes, but Bucky has his hand around yours when he asks to play for you first. 
At dinner you’d forgotten about his missing arm - his sparkling eyes and supple lips had kept you distracted enough as you ate, but he gathered the metallic appendage from another room before walking out to his piano. You applaud, and he bows with a light laugh.
Bucky’s still a little apprehensive, muttering that it’s been a while, and you can’t hold back a quipped, “that’s what she said” that snaps the tension in his shoulders. It’s almost a shame he’s facing away from you on the couch until you watch as his body sways along to the full-bodied music filling the room. Shoulders tense and sigh like ocean waves obedient to the moon’s pull controlling the tide, hips rock to shift his weight as he needs to reach one end or the other. A dance, almost, you’re certain as beautiful as the music itself let alone the musician.
Quietly, you move to stand near him, watch his hands fly over the keys, feebly try to memorize the way his face pulls together in concentration. He’s in another world, maybe somewhere in the sheet music that he’s not even using. Bucky slows, notes fading into the diffused city noise when his fingers no longer touch the keys.
He chances a look up at you, hopeful and full of transported youth that morphs into worry. “You’re crying.”
Your fingers swipe under your eyes, collecting brimmed tears. Bucky stands and takes your hands, replacing them with his thumbs and palms your cheeks. 
“If I’m that awful, I’m sorry,” he murmurs with a playful glint in his eyes. “I warned you it’s been a while.”
You chuckle and bite your lip. “You’re wonderful.”
“Me or the music?” he counters through a bashful smile, delighted you haven’t removed yourself from his hands. 
“Both.”
Heat rises in his cheeks, and Bucky is all too aware you are close enough to taste, eyes darting down to the lip between your teeth. Soft orchid wafts to his nose, hinted with a few of the herbs from dinner. Warmth spreads to his palms that cup your face. 
“Well?” he asks, a whisper that dances over your nose, eyes fluttering. 
“Well what?” you match his tone, darting from lips to eyes and back. 
“Can I get your name before you kiss me?”
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lastbluetardis · 5 years
Text
Family of Six (4/14)
After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.
This chapter: Explicit, 8500 words
Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 33, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 5, Twins: 2 weeks
If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.
Chapters will be posted every other week — next update: August 20th
AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series
Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14
The family settled into a routine almost seamlessly. Rose loved that James was able to take so much time off to help with their kids; it created one less stressor in their life, knowing that he wasn’t on a strict schedule to get to work on time.
More often than not, they were already awake and caring for the twins by the time Ainsley and Sianin needed to be up for school. Sometimes they both would get their eldest children ready in the morning, and sometimes they would trade off who did it, allowing the other to get a little more rest.
“Am I so sleep-deprived that I’ve passed the point of being tired and am now in a state of false-awakeness instead?” Rose asked one morning as she finished changing the twins.
“Probably.” The dark circles of exhaustion under James’s eyes were just as deep as hers.
“I don’t remember feeling this good after Ainsley or Sianin,” Rose said. “Babies are hard, so twins should be harder. But these two… they’re so easy.”
“Oi, don’t jinx it!” After a beat, he said, “I don’t think we can accurately compare Hannah and Maddie to Ainsley or Sianin’s infancy. Ainsley was our first, so there was a huge learning curve. Everything was brand-new and scary and we had to figure out this whole new world of parenthood. And then after Sianin was born… neither of us was in a good mental place, which did us no favors.”
“Either way, I feel amazing, James,” she said. “I’m not sad or angry or negative. And best of all, my lady bits don’t hurt anymore! Which is weird—I’d expected to be sore for longer since I pushed out two babies. But it’s like my vag is all back to normal.”
He smiled at her, the expression warming her to her very core.
“I’m very glad to hear that,” he said, stepping up to press a kiss to her cheek. “All of it.”
She turned her head and caught his lips head-on. He was still grinning, making her smile too, thus turning the kiss into more of a lip press instead. Nevertheless, she enjoyed it and draped her arms around his shoulders, holding her husband close to her. God, she loved him.
“Can I do the school run today?” she murmured, pecking short kisses across his lips.
“If you want,” he answered, trying to reciprocate her kisses.
“I do. I’d like to get out of the house for a bit.”
“Then the shower is all yours,” he said, pulling back. He gestured to their bathroom, bowing theatrically.
“You nutter,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He beamed and waggled his eyebrows, then exited their bedroom to attend to Ainsley and Sianin.
In the time it took Rose to shower and dress, James got their eldest children ready for school. They had their uniform and shoes on, and were finishing up their cereal when she stepped into the kitchen.
Rose found that she enjoyed the school run more than usual ever since the twins were born. She relished that she could be alone with Ainsley and Sianin without listening for the sounds of a distressed baby.
During the car ride, Ainsley and Sianin prattled on about school and their friends.
“William’s mums are having another baby!” Ainsley squealed.
“That’s exciting,” Rose commented, smiling at her daughter through the rearview mirror.
“Yeah! William said it’s due in August, I think,” Ainsley said. “He’s hoping for a little sister this time; his brother wants another brother.”
“Um, his mummies are both girls. How are they having a baby?” Sianin asked blankly.
“Someone else is pregnant and having the baby for them,” Ainsley answered. Then her expression turned thoughtful. “Though I suppose they could’ve used a sperm donor or something, right Mum?”
“Some people choose adoption or surrogacy instead of carrying out a pregnancy themselves,” Rose said. “It’s their own personal decision. No matter how it happens, it’s exciting that William’s family is growing, just like ours did.”
“Hope they don’t get twins,” Sianin muttered under her breath.
“Shut up, Hannah and Maddie are great!”
“Don’t tell her to shut up, Ains. She has every right to her opinion as you do.”
Sianin stuck her tongue out at her sister.
The kids stopped bickering when Rose reminded them of the party that weekend for Sianin’s birthday. They were eager to see their extended family, and Sianin was excited to have some of her friends over.
Finally, Rose parked in front of the school and stepped out with her daughters. She scooped them in for a hug and kiss, then watched them for as long as was polite before driving away and letting the lengthening queue of parents drop their kids off.
“Want a coffee?” Rose wrote on her wrist when she pulled into the car park of a nearby café.
She dawdled, collecting her purse slowly to give James enough time to see her message and reply. As she stepped into the shop and joined the short line of people, he’d written back. I just made a pot. Thanks though xoxo.
“Bummer. Next time. I’ll be home in twenty.”
“Ma’am, can I help you?”
Rose glanced up and saw she was next. “Sorry. Can I have a vanilla latte? And a blueberry muffin? Thanks.”
She got her order, then went back to her car, where she ate her muffin and drank half her latte on the drive home. 
The house was quiet when she arrived. She slipped her shoes off by the front door, then dumped her keys into the dish before heading towards the kitchen. She peered into the living room as she passed; Hannah was fast asleep in her cot. The other was empty, but when she entered the kitchen, she saw Maddie safely ensconced in her father’s arms.
Rose’s heart tripped through a few beats as she observed her husband. He was shirtless and facing away from her. She watched the muscles of his back flex as he loaded the dishwasher one-handedly. His other arm was wrapped snugly around their baby, who had her face tucked into James’s neck. His pajama bottoms were slung low on his hips, giving her a tantalizing view of the dimples at the bottom of his spine. 
“There’s a proper way and an improper way to load the dishwasher.” James’s voice was quiet and soothing as he spoke to their baby. “Because if you throw it all in, willy-nilly, you won’t fit as much in there. But if you pack everything in nice and tight, you can get through all the dirty dishes in one go. It’s like a game of Tetris.”
“Starting ‘em young with the chores, are we?” Rose asked, sauntering into the kitchen.
James straightened, turned, and then beamed.
“Well, it’s never too early to start teaching responsibility,” he said. “Maddie has been such a big helper. Haven’t you, darling? Haven’t you been Daddy’s great big helper?”
Maddie let out a snort and a sigh before settling back into his arms. James brushed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.
“How were they?” Rose asked, stepping up to James. She draped an arm around his hips and rested her cheek against his shoulder to better look at Maddie. Pathetic though it was, Rose could spend hours simply watching her beautiful baby do nothing more than sleep. Moments like this left her in awe that she and James created an entire human being together. Four entire human beings, no less.
“Wonderful,” James said. “Miss Maddie hasn’t made a peep. But I felt bad because I spent twenty minutes holding Hannah when she fussed while trying to take a poo, so after Hannah fell asleep, Maddie and I came in here to clean up from breakfast.”
Rose frowned at her sleeping daughter. She raised a hand and rubbed it up and down Maddie’s back. The baby wriggled a bit and turned her head until the opposite cheek was pressed to James’s shoulder.
“She doesn’t cry,” Rose murmured, feathering her fingers through the downy hair on Maddie’s head.
“Sure she does.”
“Not really. She whimpers a bit. But she very rarely goes into a proper wailing fit,” Rose said. “And if she does, she quiets quickly ‘cos more often than not, she just wants to be held.”
James’s brows furrowed. “Don’t most parents rejoice that their newborn is quiet?”
Rose shrugged. “I don’t want there to be anything wrong with her, is all. I mean… she looks healthy, and she’s eating and weeing and pooing. But I dunno. She’s really calm for a newborn.”
“We can bring it up at their one-month appointment,” James said. “Or we can schedule something sooner if she starts presenting worrying symptoms. You’re not worried, are you? Or have some sort of mother’s intuition that something’s wrong?”
“No, no,” Rose assured. “It’s just… odd. As I said this morning, I thought having twins would be exhausting and difficult. But really, it’s no more difficult than if we’d only had one.”
James nodded and leaned over to peck a kiss to Rose’s forehead. She reached up and cupped the back of his neck to hold him in place for a proper kiss.
But a moment later, they caught the unmistakable scent of a dirty nappy.
“I’ll change her,” Rose said, watching the baby’s face scrunch and relax.
When it appeared as though Maddie was finished, Rose took her from James, being careful not to squish the baby’s bum and smear around whatever happened to be inside the nappy.
She got the baby cleaned and changed in minutes, then after a few cuddles and kisses and proclamations of her undying love, Rose walked back to the living room and set the baby in her bassinet. She draped a blanket over her daughter, then checked on her other baby. After popping the fallen dummy back into Hannah’s mouth, she joined James in the kitchen.
He was standing at the sink, staring out the window as he finished up his coffee.
Rose stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, tucking her face into his back. He dropped a hand and covered hers, stroking the curve of her wrist with his thumb. 
First kissing the mole centered between his shoulder blades, Rose trailed her lips in long, slow lines across the planes of his back.
“I approve of your decision to not wear a shirt,” she mumbled into his skin. Her mouth hopped from freckle to freckle, dotting each one with a kiss. “You should go shirtless more often.”
“I aim to please.” He gulped down the remainder of his coffee then set the mug in the sink before spinning in her arms. Rose dropped her arms from around him, but stayed close in his personal space. “Though really, I was just about to hop in the shower when Hannah started crying.”
“You should’ve said you were trying to impress me,” Rose said dryly.
“Why should I have to do that? I know how impressive I am. And so do you.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Rose rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him. His broad chest. His subtly-sculpted shoulders and pecs. His undefined yet firm abdomen. The way his hip bones jutted up from beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
James noticed her wandering gaze and had an insufferably smug smirk on his face.
“Well,” Rose drawled, “I suppose you’re perfectly adequate.”
“Perfectly adequate, my arse.”
“Your arse is also perfectly adequate,” Rose said, reaching down to pinch it lightly.
He squeaked and jumped.
“What’s gotten into you this morning?” James asked, his eyes wide. “Not that I’m complaining. Far from it.”
“I told you. You look sexy without a shirt on.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed for a second and his eyes darted down to her mouth. She reached out and rested her hands at his waist, caressing her thumbs across his hipbones, then trailed her fingertips up his ribs until her hands rested on his chest. His heart thumped solidly beneath her palm. Goosebumps prickled across his skin and puckered his nipples.
He, meanwhile, placed his hands at her lower back and kept them there. His pupils were slightly dilated and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. The overhead lights shone invitingly against his bottom lip, and she bit hers in response. His gaze dropped to her mouth.
“Rose,” he croaked. The rawness of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“Just admiring the view.” She slid her hands farther up his chest until she could grip the tops of his shoulders, then she tugged him down.
His breath escaped him in a sigh when their lips met. It was a soft, sweet thing, but nevertheless, it sent butterflies through Rose’s stomach. She cradled James’s cheek in her hand; the muscles of his jaw flexed ever so slightly as his mouth parted and closed with the familiar catch-and-release rhythm of his kisses.
When her tongue darted out to trace across his bottom lip, his mouth fell open in invitation. He hummed when she slid her tongue against his, then curled it to flick against the roof of his mouth and the backs of his teeth.
He allowed her to control the kiss, to set and keep the pace. She kept one hand to James’s face and let the other skate down his chest and belly to brush curiously against the front of his pajama bottoms. He was half hard and his hips twitched minutely. Reading his cue, she opened her palm and rested it against his burgeoning erection.
“Want me to…?” she asked, caressing her thumb absently against him through his pajama bottoms.
“Only if you want to,” he replied, slightly breathless. “If not, I can take care of it in the shower.”
“And deprive me of the opportunity to touch my husband? Don’t you dare.”
He snorted out a laugh, but it died on a groan when she wrapped her hand around his clothed erection. She coupled gentle squeezes with nips to his bottom lip, gradually working him up until he was fully hard. His erection poked his pajama bottoms out cartoonishly, and Rose smiled to herself as she readjusted him. She guided his cock to point up at his belly, and she slipped his trousers down an inch, just low enough that the head barely peeked out of the waistband.
She circled her fingertip across the bright red tip of him, watching a bead of moisture well up then drip down, soaking into the fabric of the waistband.
“Having fun?” he rasped.
“Of course.” She grinned at him.
“Bed- bedroom?”
“Not necessary. We’re alone. Last I looked, two-week-old babies are fairly sedentary, so there’s no fear of them walking in on us. And they have no idea what sex is—or anything, for that matter—so you don’t need to concern yourself with being quiet. Well, unless you wake them up. Would be a shame if we had to stop in the middle of this, eh?”
James rolled his eyes at her and arched his hips impatiently into her hand, which was still tracing tiny circles around the head of his erection just to coax more beads of moisture from the tip.
“Please?” he asked. “Can you touch me? Properly?”
She nodded and made one final teasing circle before tugging his pajama bottoms down his slim hips, freeing his erection.
“Been forever since we fooled around in the middle of the house,” James said, watching her wrap her hand around his length and give him a slow pump. His eyes were dark and ravenous; the expression made Rose lament that she couldn’t join in the activity they were about to partake in.
“It’s got kind of a naughty feel to it,” Rose agreed. She slid her hand up his cock, then brushed her thumb across the tip of him. She worked the slippery wetness down his erection until the bite of dry friction was nonexistent.
“Feels good,” James murmured, thrusting lightly into her hand but making no indication for her to hurry up. 
“Good. I like making you feel good. I haven’t gotten to touch you since the babies were born—I’ve missed it.”
“Me either,” he whispered. “Wait. I meant me. I haven’t touched myself since they’ve been born either. Obviously I can’t touch you yet.”
“Seriously? You haven’t had a wank in over two weeks?”
“Haven’t had much time lately. Or been in the mood, really.”
“So… what? The last time was when you and I fooled around a bit after you gave me a foot massage?”
“Mhm.” James sucked in a sharp breath when Rose gave him a long, slow squeeze on the upstroke. “God, Rose.”
She bit her lip around a smile, but kept up the steady rhythm of her hand.
“I love you,” she said, stepping closer to catch his lips in a kiss.
His mouth was frenzied against hers, belying how worked up he was. His lips tugged and pulled at hers, restlessly moving between her lower and upper lip. His tongue eventually came into play, gliding against hers too quickly to have much finesse to it.
Rose sped up her hand for a few strokes before slowing back down. A low, whining groan rumbled from his throat.
“Rose.”
“James,” she parroted.
“Tease,” he huffed.
“Tell me you’re not enjoying this.”
“I’m very much enjoying this. I always enjoy it. Feels so fucking good, love.”
His use of profanity sent delightful tingles through her. Rose pecked a kiss to his lips before she trailed her mouth down his jaw. She scraped her teeth across it, then licked it, enjoying the scratch of his day-old stubble against her tongue.
For several long minutes, she kept up the torturous rhythm of her hand, alternating between long, languorous strokes and short, quick ones. She delighted in the hitch of his breath that always accompanied the change in tempo.
Her other hand was busy touching any other part of him she could reach. It meandered up and down his chest, her fingernails scraping through the fine hairs on his chest and belly. She paid attention to his nipples, flicking and pinching and scratching at them to pull delicious grunts from him.
When she’d given his upper body a thorough tease, she let her hand wander further south. He grumbled when her hand didn’t join its partner on his cock, but rather it dipped lower to trace his inner thigh. His legs were tense and trembling as she traced the seam where his thigh joined his hip. He exhaled raggedly when her hand finally skated across the underside of his cock to cradle his balls in her palm.
“Fuck,” he panted as she massaged them gently. When she once again slowed the motion of her hand on his erection, he rasped, “Please. Please, Rose.”
Rose nodded and pressed a hard, quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He was too far gone to reciprocate.
“Just a sec,” she said, releasing him with both hands.
His cock bobbed and twitched. James let out a pathetic whimper and wrenched open his eyes; they were dark and glazed over. Rose grabbed a dish towel that had been tossed haphazardly onto the counter, then returned to her husband.
His eyes fluttered shut again when she took him in hand and built him back up. His hips undulated with her rhythm, so Rose adjusted her motions to work with him, pumping him harder and faster with every stroke. This time she didn’t slow her hand.
“Rose,” he gasped urgently, “I’m gonna… I’m… oh, fuck…” 
Goosebumps prickled out across Rose’s skin, fifteen and a half years of experience having conditioned her that her pleasure would come with his. Her gut tightened deliciously as he started to moan, first deeply then higher-pitched as his face pinched into an expression of pure rapture. His hands shot out to grab the edge of the sink for balance, and his head tipped back as he sucked in a sharp breath.
Positioning the towel at the head of his flushed cock, Rose pumped him with purpose. She rotated her wrist on the upstroke as she counted down in her head.
Three… two… one… 
James let out a cry of relief that weakened Rose’s knees as he spurted messily into the towel. She worked him through it, timing her squeezing upstroke with each pulse of his cock, delighting in his grunts and heavy breathing.
Must have been a good one, Rose thought as he continued throbbing in her hand, his hips jerking forward every few seconds. He was beautiful as he stood there, face blank, mouth hanging open as panting moans escaped him. A dull ache of desire coiled low in Rose’s belly, but she pushed it aside.
“Oh, God,” he croaked when he was finally spent.
She could feel him softening and stroked him one last time. He sighed, his hips jumping, then she released him. 
“I take it that was good?” Rose teased, knowing damn well it was.
When he eventually opened his eyes, they had a dazed, sleepy look about them, and he grinned.
Rose returned the expression, then folded up the soiled towel, discreetly wiped her hands clean, and set it on the counter. She stepped up to James and pulled his pajama bottoms up his hips, careful not to snag his softening cock.
She enveloped him in a hug, one that he eagerly reciprocated. He tucked his face into her neck and inhaled deeply, holding her so tightly it sent warmth thudding through her with every heartbeat; she loved their post-coital cuddles and this one was no different, no matter that they were standing.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He brought his hand up to comb his fingers through her hair, then he cradled the back of her head as his lips descended on hers. The kiss was reverent and knee-wobblingly gentle. “I love you.” He kissed her again. “That was incredible. If not orgasming in over two weeks makes it feel like that, I should abstain more often.”
“Only for the next few weeks. Once I’m cleared for sex, you’d better not hold out on me, mister.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, swaying them lightly. “When you’re ready to make love, I’m going to repay that delightful orgasm tenfold.”
“I don’t think you could possibly make me come ten times,” Rose said dryly.
“Is that a challenge?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “As much as I love when you make me come multiple times, I think I would pass out if you made it to ten. Or at the very least have some uncomfortable chafing.”
“Our record is seven,” James said. “Surely it’s not that unfeasible to get you to ten.”
“That record was before we had kids,” Rose reminded. “We literally spent hours and hours in bed.”
“If my memory serves me correctly—which it does, ‘cos I’m brilliant—it was in the kitchen, on the couch, against a wall, then in bed,” he said, pulling back to smile down at her.
“Is that supposed to impress me?”
“Are you not impressed?” He pouted. “If you’d like, I could regale you with the exact number of orgasms you’ve had. You, Rose Tyler-McCrimmon, have had…” His tongue pressed distractingly to the backs of his teeth as he thought. “…Four-thousand nine-hundred and fourteen orgasms with yours truly.”
Rose blinked, her attention finally broken away from his tongue. “What, seriously?”
James winked roguishly at her, exuding a haughty air for a few extended seconds, before a sheepish smile stole over his face. “Nah, I just did some quick guesstimating. We’ve been sexually active for fifteen years and eight months. If you assume we make love three times a week—which is quite low for some weeks, but then there were others where we didn’t at all so it probably evens out—and that you orgasm at least twice whenever we have sex—again, this is quite low for some sessions—then that gets us to four-thousand nine-hundred and fourteen. And that’s a very conservative estimate. I’m sure we must have crossed the threshold of five-thousand by now.”
Rose cackled and lifted up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to her husband’s lips.
“Oh, you absolute utter nutter!”
He hummed happily. “I’m your absolute utter nutter.”
“D’you know what?” she asked conspiratorially. His eyes twinkled as he awaited her response. “That quick mental maths you just did is much more impressive than if you’d actually been keeping count all these years.”
He grinned at her, then hauled her in for another kiss.
oOoOo
Later that night, Rose lounged in Ainsley’s bed beside her daughter while James sat at the foot of the bed, absently playing with Rose’s feet. They tried to make sure Ainsley read aloud to them each night, and while usually they traded off the job, sometimes they both wanted to listen to the story. That was the case this night, as they were part way through Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and James and Rose enjoyed the opportunity for a reread of the series.
James sat back against the wall and massaged his thumbs into Rose’s instep as he listened to Ainsley narrate Harry and Ron’s misadventure into the Whomping Willow.
Ainsley was a good reader. Her vocabulary was strong and she had an excellent grasp on the grammar and fluidity of language, but tonight her voice was a little flat and she kept tripping over her words.
James caught Rose’s eye and saw she’d noticed too. When the chapter came to an end, before he could say anything, Ainsley asked, “Can we stop there tonight?”
“Of course, darling,” James said. “Is anything the matter?”
“I guess I’m just not in the mood to read.”
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Rose asked, moving to wrap her arm around Ainsley’s shoulders.
“Why would something be bothering me?” she snapped, flinching away from Rose.
James was taken aback, and judging from Rose’s slackened jaw, so was she. Before he could reprimand his daughter for her behavior, Ainsley mumbled, “Sorry.”
“You can always talk to me,” Rose said, wringing her hands in her lap as though she didn’t know what to do with them. “Or to your dad.”
“I know,” Ainsley said.
James bit his lip and tentatively rested his hand on the blanket covering Ainsley’s foot. She didn’t pull away. “Is it about the twins?”
Ainsley wrinkled her nose. “What? No. Why?”
“Well, it’s been you and Sianin for a long time, and now there are two babies in the house,” James said carefully. “It’s a lot to adjust to. Mum and I won’t be upset if you’re upset about them.”
“No, they’re fine,” Ainsley said firmly. “I love having them here.”
James’s shoulders relaxed and he squeezed her foot. “Do you want me and Mum to leave you alone for the night?”
Ainsley glanced over at Rose, then at James, and shook her head. “Can I have a hug?”
“Of course, love,” Rose said, tugging Ainsley in for the hug their daughter had rejected mere moments ago. “I’m sorry you’re feeling out of sorts tonight. Is there anything we can do?”
She shrugged and nestled closer to Rose’s chest. James was at a loss, so he continued petting Ainsley’s feet through the blankets.
“Can I ask you something?” Ainsley’s voice was muffled by Rose’s shirt.
“Always.”
“Did you… I mean… This might sound stupid,” Ainsley admitted.
“Impossible,” James assured her. “There’s no such thing as a stupid question.”
“Yes, there is,” Ainsley said dryly, cracking a small smile. It slipped as she said, “When you realized you were soulmated, did you feel… trapped?”
James squinted at his wife. Her expression mirrored his.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“Like… one day you were going about your business, then the next, the universe decided you were suddenly matched with another human being and tied to them. Forever. Was that… scary? Overwhelming?”
James’s brain worked fast to try and figure out where her question was coming from. For as long as she’d understood the concept of soulmates, Ainsley had longed for one of her own. Had she been soulmated and now felt differently about it? 
“For me, it was an exciting day to realize the universe had given me a forever friend,” Rose said, her voice slow and cautious as she, too, tried to figure out what had prompted their daughter’s question.
“Same,” James agreed.
“Yeah, but later, when the excitement had worn off. Did it feel like your choice had been taken from you? Like… you have a soulmate. And you’re stuck with them. You had no input whatsoever about who you’d fall in love with and marry and have kids with.”
“I guess a little bit,” Rose answered, and James thought all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Before his panic could thoroughly suffocate him, Rose continued, “Though my main fear was actually a bit of the opposite. I was worried that my soulmate wouldn’t want to be stuck with me for eternity.”
The air had returned to James’s lungs, though his chest was still a bit tight. He reached over and squeezed Rose’s foot. She flashed him a small smile before returning her attention to Ainsley.
“Being soulmated didn’t necessarily take away my decision to fall in love, though,” Rose said. “I was five when I realized I was soulmated. I knew what love was, but I didn’t truly understand the scale of it. Your dad and I started out as friends, then as we got older, our feelings evolved. Do you know what platonic love is?”
“Love between friends?” Ainsley asked.
“Exactly. Our love started platonically, then grew into romantic love when we were older because that’s what we both wanted. But there are some soulmates who remain best friends, and that works for them.”
“For my part, I was a hopeless romantic,” James admitted, earning him a giggle from his daughter. “But you must understand, I had soulmated parents who were very much in love, and I decided at a young age that that’s what I wanted as well. When I met your mother, she became my best friend overnight. I loved her deeply and knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Our love grew as we did.”
“Where are these questions coming from? Have you… been soulmated?” Rose asked carefully.
Ainsley sighed heavily. “No. But my friend Teddy is. Just today, it happened. And he was acting all dramatic and unhappy, whining about being stuck with a girl his whole life. He was being kind of stupid about it all, and talked about his soulmate really rudely. But it got me wondering if other people were upset when they found out they were soulmated.”
“I’m sure some people feel like their choice is being taken away from them, while others are happy about it,” James said.
“It’s not fair,” Ainsley lamented. “That Teddy has a soulmate but doesn’t want one.”
“I know,” Rose said, kissing the top of Ainsley’s head. 
They all became quiet for a minute, until Ainsley asked, “Do you ever get bored? I mean, you’ve been together for decades.”
“Oi, you make us sound ancient,” James whined.
Ainsley laughed. “I just meant that you know everything about each other. Doesn’t it get boring?”
“Well, we have four kids to spice up our lives.”
“Gee, thanks,” Rose muttered.
James cringed as he realized how that sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that. Obviously if we didn’t have kids, I’d still be as in love with your mum as ever.”
“Why don’t you do date nights anymore?” Ainsley asked curiously.
James frowned.
“I could sometimes hear you in the living room watching a film or having dinner or something,” Ainsley explained. Then her cheeks turned pink. “Or… erm… later, in your room.”
James’s face went hot.
“Or Sianin and I would have a sleepover at Grandad’s house so you could go out. But you haven’t done that in ages.”
“The twins have us pretty busy right now,” Rose said. “We’re tired at night, so we don’t usually do anything fancy. But remember, your dad is on paternity leave so we get to spend the entire day together.”
“Oh. So you and Dad are… okay?” Ainsley asked, glancing between the two of them.
“We’re wonderful,” James promised. “Would you like us to snog right now as proof?”
Rose kicked him half-heartedly as Ainsley shrieked, “Ew! No!” James giggled. “Well. Rather that than overhearing you in your bedroom.”
Once again, James’s cheeks flamed.
“I haven’t heard… erm…  that in a while either,” Ainsley said awkwardly. “Not that I’m complaining. But… just…”
“Sweetheart, why are you so concerned about me and your dad?” Rose asked, her voice impossibly soft and tinged with sadness. “Have we done or said something…?”
Ainsley shrugged and strangled the corner of her blanket between her hands. “My friend’s parents are getting divorced. She’s really upset about it ‘cos she didn’t know anything was wrong between her mum and dad.”
“Sometimes mums and dads are better apart than they are together,” Rose said gently, giving Ainsley a tight squeeze. “A spouse or romantic partner should make you into the best version of yourself you can possibly be. You dad brings out the best in me, and he makes me want to be better. He makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.
“But sometimes all of that just… stops. And it’s nobody’s fault. But it’s good for people to recognize that the situation they’re in isn’t healthy anymore, and it’s best if they go their separate ways.”
“Can a divorce happen between soulmated people?” Ainsley asked, glancing between her parents.
“I’m sure there are cases of it,” James answered. Ainsley deflated and he hastened to add, “But that’s not gonna happen between me and your mum.”
“How can you be sure?” she pressed.
“I… well…” James floundered for a response that wasn’t “because I know”. 
Rose, seeing him struggling, touched Ainsley’s cheek to get her attention. “I suppose nobody can say anything with absolute certainty. However, I can promise you right now that I have absolutely no intention of leaving your dad, and I have a very difficult time imagining ever wanting to. I fall more in love with him every day and love that I’m married to him.”
“The same for me,” James said, his voice a little hoarse. His heart ached at the thought of him and Rose not being together. He couldn’t even fathom it. He was one-hundred percent certain that he and Rose would be together forever, in this life and in whatever came after. “I’m sorry your friend is going through that hardship. And that it’s made you nervous.”
“I wasn’t really nervous,” Ainsley said quickly, but the vulnerability that had been splayed across her face minutes ago contradicted her statement. James merely nodded though.
“Are you feeling better?” Rose asked, smoothing Ainsley’s hair away from her face.
“Yeah,” she said, nestling down into her pillow.
“Thank you for talking with me and Dad.”
“Thanks for listening,” Ainsley said, then she heaved a sigh that sounded too big to come from her tiny body. “I still feel a bit funny inside.”
“Illness funny or weird funny?” Rose asked, unconsciously pressing her fingers to Ainsley’s cheeks and forehead.
“Weird funny. Like… I feel sad but I dunno why. ‘Cos I’m not sad, I don’t think.”
“As you get older and have more experiences, you’ll start to feel more emotions that you might not know what to do with,” Rose said. “It’s perfectly normal, but may be overwhelming sometimes. Can you try to promise me you’ll come talk with me or your dad, or even your gran or grandad, if things get overwhelming? No matter how silly you think it is?”
“I promise,” Ainsley said, flashing a small smile.
“Good girl,” Rose said. “Do you think you can sleep now?”
Ainsley nodded, and James scooted off the bed before helping Rose slip off.
“I love you so, so much,” Rose whispered to her daughter. She peppered a series of kisses across Ainsley’s face, covering her forehead and cheeks and chin and nose. “Goodnight Ainsley.”
“Night Mum.”
James stepped forward when Rose backed away.
“Nighty night, darling,” he said, leaning down to brush a kiss to his daughter’s cheek. He smoothed out her blankets and fussed with them, making sure there were no folds or lumps as he tucked them around her shoulders. “Gonna bundle you in nice and tight.”
James grinned at his laughing child as he tucked the blankets under Ainsley’s body, cocooning her snugly. He then pressed a smacking kiss to her forehead.
“G’night Daddy,” she said, her eyes bright.
“Sweet dreams.”
He and Rose backed out of her room, flicking the lights off and shutting the door behind them.
“Well that was… unexpected,” James groaned when they plopped down on the couch together.
“She is nine,” Rose said pointedly. “Pretty soon she’ll be starting puberty and dealing with all these new and weird hormones and emotions and…”
“Don’t remind me. That’s not supposed to happen. She’s my baby girl.”
Rose patted his chest comfortingly. They were silent for a few moments before she said, her voice teasing, “So… our kids are the only reason you haven’t gotten bored of me.”
It took James a moment, but he finally remembered the context of her quip. “I really am sorry about that,” he said, grimacing. He scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean it how it came out.”
“I know,” Rose assured. “It’s funny, is all.” She snuggled in to his side, and he hugged her close, her warmth soothing. “What do you think we’d do if we didn’t have kids to keep you entertained?”
“Have more sex,” he deadpanned.
“Even more than we already have?” Rose snorted. “Blimey, I dunno if that’s even possible.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’d manage.” He stroked his fingers up and down the length of her arm. “What do you think we’d do if we didn’t have kids?”
“Probably travel a bit more.” James felt a little guilty that she actually gave a real answer while he provides a blasé one. “I mean, we already travel quite a lot, but it’s very strictly planned to either make sure the places we go are kid-friendly, or to arrange for child care so you and I can go somewhere.” Rose paused for a moment before she admitted, “I kind of miss the spontaneity that came with not having kids.”
“I do, too,” he agreed. “Though I think the presence of the kids makes me cherish the alone time I have with you even more. It’d get a bit dull spending every waking minute together, wouldn’t it?”
“Charming,” Rose drawled, flicking the back of his head.
“Do you understand what I mean, though?” he asked, worried that perhaps he was alone in his feelings and was instead digging himself into a hole.
Rose stared at him, letting him simmer in his uncertainty for a few long seconds before she winked at him and leaned up to kiss him swiftly.
“Yeah, I understand,” she said. “For the record, I agree. I adore our children and I would never, ever wish them out of my life, but they give me a greater appreciation for moments like this.” She gestured vaguely around the living room. “I love spending time with you and the kids, but I also love when it’s just us.”
“So… now that it’s just the two of us, what are we gonna do?” James purred into her ear.
“I was actually considering getting ready for bed,” Rose admitted, smiling sheepishly.
James burst out laughing, and he squeezed his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s not that I’m ready to sleep, but I’m tired and want to lie down and get settled in for the night.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
Together, they locked up the house and carried the twins from the bassinets in the living room to the bassinets in their bedroom.
“Want to play a game?” Rose asked after they’d gone through their nighttime routine and were lounging in bed. “Like Word Association or something?”
“Sure.” Word Association was one of their favorite pillow talk games to play. One of them would start with a random word, then the other would say the first word that popped into their head that was somehow associated with the original word. The game was over if one of them couldn’t come up with a word within a couple seconds, or if a word was reused. “You start.”
“Bed,” Rose said.
“Pillow.”
“Head.”
“Blowjob.”
“How the hell…?” Rose giggled.
“Y’know… giving head,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows. “Go on. You next.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Cuddle.” She rolled into his arms as she said the word, and he hugged her close.
“Warm,” he murmured, burrowing himself into her soft heat.
“Summer.”
“Beach.”
“Sand.”
“Arse.” He let his hand wander down her back until he cupped her bum.
“Seriously?” Rose laughed, swatting his hand.
“Seriously! Sand gets everywhere, Rose,” he said gravely, though he kept his hand where it was.
She pressed a kiss to his chest. “Sex.”
“Kiss.” He ducked down to catch her lips in a long kiss, his tongue darting out to swipe against hers.
“Wet,” she rasped.
He smirked. “Arousal.”
“Handsome.”
“Beautiful,” he whispered, nudging his nose against hers before he kissed her again.
She twined her fingers through his hair, keeping him where he was as she returned his kiss.
“Flattery,” she mumbled against his mouth before scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. He hummed into the kiss and nearly forgot about the game entirely until she said, “Your turn.”
“Love,” he breathed, hoping he picked something associated with the word she’d given. Frankly, he had forgotten what she’d said.
“Lust,” she said, scratching her fingernails across his scalp.
Hot tingles broke out across his skin and he shuddered, barely swallowing down a moan. His lips moved hungrily against hers, chasing the pleasurable sensations that came with snogging his wife.
“Your turn,” Rose prompted yet again.
James could hardly think straight, especially as she kept teasing her fingers through his hair. “Sex.”
“Ha!” Rose popped her lips away from his, leaving him dazed and disoriented. A victorious grin was on her face; she looked far too clear-headed for his liking. “I already used that word. I win!”
“I think you cheated,” he pouted, though he really wished she would keep kissing him.
“I think someone’s a sore loser,” Rose said, her tongue poking out as she beamed.
“I demand a rematch.” James rolled until his body was pressed up to hers. He crushed his mouth to hers, delighting in her surprised hiss. He chased her tongue back into her mouth, stroking and teasing it as his hands wandered up and down the length of her spine.
“Tongue,” he said against her mouth.
“T-teeth,” she sighed as he nibbled his way across her jaw and down her neck.
“Bite,” he answered, giving her a quick nip as he spoke.
She whimpered and arched her head back to give him better access. “Suck.”
“As you wish,” he responded, latching his mouth to the side of her neck.
“N-no, that was my word,” Rose said. She whined when he popped his mouth away from her skin. “Though you can keep doing that, if you’d like.”
He grinned, and said, “Cock,” before attaching his mouth to her once more. Maybe it was cheating, but he let his lips and teeth wander down to the sensitive join where her neck met her shoulder. She shuddered in his arms and let out a breathy gasp.
“Your turn,” he whispered between kisses. “Unless you’d like to concede the game?”
“Stiffy,” she said.
“Stubborn woman,” he muttered. “Rub.”
“Grind.”
“Thrust.”
“Moan.”
“Groan,” he purred into her ear. His brain was close to short-circuiting with the love and pleasure coursing through his body. He knew they would need to stop the game before he became too aroused; it was torture knowing he couldn’t roll on top of Rose and make love with her. But nevertheless, he was enjoying this bit of teasing, despite the heavy ache throbbing between his legs.
They made it through a few more words, each one raunchier than the last, before Rose placed her hand on his chest and said, “I want to stop now.”
It was as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown on him. He scooted away immediately.
“Are you all right? I’m sorry, I…”
“I’m fine,” Rose assured. He cheeks were flushed and her pupils were blown wide. “It was getting too intense, though.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. I was enjoying that very much.” Rose reached over to rest her hand on his chest. “But we can’t go any further, and if we’d kept up the game, I would’ve forgotten why we couldn’t go any further.”
James nodded and reached up to twine his fingers with hers. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and held her hand, neither of them speaking.
“Are you all right?” Rose asked. “Need to go take care of yourself or anything? Or want me to give you a hand?”
“You gave me a hand this morning. Two hands, actually.” He winked roguishly at her, making he grin.
“I don’t mind doing it again,” she said sincerely. “Honestly.”
“I know. And thank you, but I’ll be fine.” And he was. Already, his erection had flagged and would be completely gone in a few minutes.
“That was really fun,” Rose admitted.
“Yeah, it was,” he said. “Can we have a cuddle? Or are you too worked up still?”
In reply, Rose took her hand from him and rolled onto her side, facing away from him. She then reached back to draw him in as he curved his body around hers. They wiggled around for a few moments, getting settled. When her bum brushed across the front of his pants, she teased, “You sure you don’t need a private moment?”
“Quite sure,” he said, rolling his eyes even though she couldn’t see. “It was going down ‘til you started grinding.”
“Unintentionally grinding,” she corrected.
“You comfy?” he asked, tucking his face into her neck.
“Mhm… wanna bet a baby will start crying in thirty seconds?”
“Don’t jinx it,” he whined, pinching her side.
Rose giggled quietly in the darkness. James gave her middle a squeeze and burrowed closer into her warmth.
The twins did not, in fact, begin crying thirty seconds later. Or even thirty minutes later. By that time, Rose had already fallen asleep and was snoring into her pillow, and James had stopped listening for the beginnings of a cry. He instead listened to the sounds of his home: Rose’s breathing. The twins’ occasional snuffling grunts and coos. The flushing of a toilet down the hall.
He strained his ears and heard shuffling footfalls. The footsteps were getting closer, before they disappeared altogether.
Must’ve been Ainsley, he thought to himself. Her room was the closest to theirs.
But then he heard the sound of little voices. Frowning, he disentangled himself from Rose and slipped out of bed. He exited his bedroom and crept towards Ainsley’s room, where the door was ajar.
He could hear his two eldest children speaking quietly, and when he knocked at the door, their voices went silent.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
Sianin was in Ainsley’s bed, facing the wall with the blankets pulled up to her ears. Ainsley peered at her little sister, then to him.
“She wee’d the bed,” Ainsley said.
“Ainsley!” Sianin cried.
“What? Daddy would’ve realized tomorrow morning anyway.”
Sianin sniffled and pulled the blankets higher up her face.
“Are you all right, Sianin?” James asked, stepping to the foot of the bed. He wished Ainsley’s bed wasn’t pushed against the wall so he could crouch down in front of her.
“It was an accident,” Sianin whimpered, her voice muffled.
“I know,” he said soothingly. “Did you put on clean jammies?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to sleep with Ainsley tonight?” James asked, hoping his eldest didn’t mind.
“Yeah.”
“Okay then,” he said. “Goodnight, darling.”
She mumbled something he couldn’t catch, then poked her hand out of the blankets to pull Ainsley down beside her. Ainsley rolled her eyes but was smiling fondly at her little sister.
“This all right?” he asked.
“Mhm,” Ainsley replied, yawning. She curled up behind Sianin and draped an arm around her waist.
James thought his heart might melt into his toes at the picture of his children cuddling together.
“Goodnight, my darlings,” he whispered. “I love you lots.”
“G’night. Love you,” Ainsley said sleepily, while Sianin just grunted.
He stepped out of the room and with a heavy exhale, went to Sianin’s room to clean up. He chucked her sheets and soiled clothes into the wash, then cleaned up her mattress. He was just putting the cleaning supplies away when he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye.
“Everything all right?” Rose asked, her eyes bleary.
“Yep. Sianin wet the bed is all, but I’ve got it sorted,” James said.
Rose frowned. “She hasn’t done that in… God, I dunno how long.”
“I know,” James said. “It wasn’t too bad, though. She must’ve woken up part way through. Her bedding’s in the wash now, and she’s sleeping with Ainsley tonight.”
Rose nodded and yawned again. “Anything I can help with?”
He shook his head. “I was about to come back to bed. Were the twins up?”
“Just got done feeding them.”
She held out her hand for his. Hand in hand, they walked down the corridor towards their room. Rose tugged him to a stop so she could poke her head into Ainsley’s room.
The girls were in the same position he’d left them in, with Sianin facing the wall and the blankets tugged up nearly over her head, and Ainsley spooned up behind her.
“Oh,” Rose cooed, pressing her hand to her chest.
He smiled, then reached out to shut Ainsley’s door.
“I wonder what could’ve caused Sianin’s accident,” Rose mused as they crawled into bed.
“Dunno,” he said, curling up against Rose.
“I hope it’s a one-off. Maybe she forgot to wee before bed. Or drank more water than usual. Or had a scary dream. Or…” 
“Or a dream where she really had to wee.”
Rose snorted. “Or that.”
“She’s probably fine,” James said with a contented sigh.
“Mhm,” Rose agreed, turning her body into his. She flung a leg over one of his and wrapped her arm around his waist, nuzzling her face into his chest.
“Goodnight, Rose,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
She muttered something unintelligible, and he nearly laughed; she sounded just like Sianin had.
Like mother, like daughter.
He breathed in deeply and kissed her again before closing his eyes and attempting sleep.
If you’ve made it to the end, consider leaving a comment or reblogging? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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mythlived · 4 years
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When Josie was little and Patroclus had just arrived, she hid from him. Always. When her parents had told her they were taking him in, she was excited for the weeks leading up to his arrival and—as five-year-olds do—began to pick out things she owned that she thought he might like or pointed out things in stores that she wanted thought suited him. She drew him a “Welcome” card at school  (  which Pat still has, tucked safely in a picture frame so it won’t get damaged and where everyone can see the words “Welcome Patrus, Love Jo” scribbled in green crayon on purple construction paper  ),  she picked out a new outfit for herself for the “Welcome Party” she planned, and even went so far as to get Ares a puppy-party-hat. But when the day came and Pat showed up, she heard the door open, heard her parents talking to him while she sat beside her grandma, and then bolted. All she knew was that he sounded older than her and therefore scarier. She couldn’t handle it. She’d been bamboozled. She thought she was getting a little brother  (  their parents had told her otherwise more than once  )  and didn’t like that she’d been betrayed. She did not like this. . . this Patrus. So she hid in her room and refused to come out, no matter who asked. 
The first time she ever actually saw Patroclus was two days later, when she was hiding in the kitchen pantry and he opened it to get something for her mom, only to find her staring up at him, completely and utterly caught. She remembers he just grabbed what he was looking for after pausing for a moment and then shut the pantry door back like it had never happened. Like she wasn’t even there. She had been both pleased and also insulted. He had barely even acknowledged her. She was here first. Patrus needed to go. She told her dad as much when he was putting her to bed, but he’d simply frowned at her and told her she wasn’t being very nice like she’d promised—a low blow to one so small—but then asked why she didn’t like him. . . to which her response was that he was old and mean. When prompted to explain how he was mean, Josie told him: He ignored her  !  The audacity. But then her dad pointed out she’d been ignoring him this entire time, so he was probably just being polite and trying not to bother her. Clearly, Patrus had Mom and Dad wrapped around his finger already. It was time for war. 
So the following morning she arrived at breakfast and immediately told her mother that Patrus had spit in her cereal. To which her mother had sighed and pointed out that Patroclus  (  who was Patroclus  ?  )  wasn’t even awake yet. Josie told her that didn’t matter, because Patrus did it, not this Patro. . . Partoc. . . Pat-man. She didn’t understand why her mom just laughed. The traitor. So she tried again the following day: Patrus kicked me today. This time when they were all seated at dinner for the first time because all grandparents were over. She achieved some satisfaction from the way Grandma, Nan, and Pa reacted, looking at the boy with wide eyes and a little gasp from Nan. She also achieved some satisfaction from the horror written across Patrus’ face. He deserved that. But then she got in trouble for lying because Patrus had been grocery shopping with Dad that day while she and Mom had gone to the mall. . . which was a small kink in her plan. She had taken a nap since their mall trip and forgotten. 
What she didn’t expect was for the tables to turn on Week Three; for Patrus to launch his counterattack. It was when she heard a door close that she jumped off of her seat to go hide herself in the linens closet in the hallway.  (  It was her hiding spot for laundry days because it smelled nice with all the clean towels and sheets.  )  But when she opened the door, she froze because there he sat. Patrus was in her hiding spot. He knew. And yet, he looked startled, like he hadn’t expected her.  ❝  Can I help you  ?  ❞ And he said it like he shouldn’t be somewhere else. Anywhere else. She couldn’t figure out why he was there. Why he was sitting in her linen closet. On laundry day. So she asked,  ❝  What are you doing  ?  ❞
She felt strange when he looked at her like he didn’t understand what she’d just said. But it was his reply. . . his reply changed everything,  ❝  I’m hiding from you.  ❞  Horror, shock, disbelief, and betrayal all hit at once. She had won so many battles, but with just four words. . . just four words. . . she’d lost the war. So she did the only sensible thing and placed her hand on her forehead, swayed with the non-existent wind, and pretended to pass out in the floor. Perhaps her parents would find her and think Patrus had pushed her down and promptly get rid of him. 
She was tempted to peek her eyes open when she heard him shift some of the linens. But she didn’t have to because he spoke only a moment later,  ❝  Josie  ?  Are you okay  ?  ❞  He had no right to ask her such a thing when he was the one that had done this. How rude. A dragon wasn’t supposed to care about the knight they had vanquished. What was his problem  ?  Coming in here and trying to replace her only to ask if she was okay. Of course she wasn’t okay  !  Who knew he was stupid, too  ?  
❝  No. I’m dead.  ❞  She sighed dramatically and peeked one eye open to see that he’d left her linen closet and was sitting on the ground next to her, cross-legged and. . . was he smiling  ?!  She hated him  !  He was glad she was dead  !  What a monster  !  She promptly closed her eyes again; she couldn’t bear to see her replacement take such joy in her fall. She was ruined. It was over. . . 
Would her mom and dad get rid of her since they seemed to like Patrus better  ?  Maybe they would give her to Nan and Pa, since Nan believed that Patrus had kicked Josie. Surely that meant Nan liked her better  ?  
❝  Why are you crying  ?  ❞   Patrus’ voice was quiet, soft like she’d never heard it, like he was trying not to wake the dead. But too bad for him—she had awoken  !  . . . But only because she couldn’t stop sniffling and had to sit up. Unfortunately, this brought her face-to-face with him because he had his face leaned against his hand and his elbows on his knees. She swatted at him even though he wasn’t very close to her and he sat up, hopefully surprised. 
❝  Because I hate you.  ❞  And she sobbed, because she didn’t feel any better after saying it. In fact, watching the way his face scrunched up and how he frowned, she just felt worse. Maybe if she explained more she’d feel better and he’d stop making that face at her. . .  ❝  You’re scary and Mom and Dad like you better now.  ❞  
His face went from scrunched up to that startled look he’d given her earlier, like he hadn’t been expecting what she was going to say. Good. She liked this expression better anyway. It didn’t make her feel as bad.  ❝  They don’t like me better.  ❞   
❝  They do  !  ❞
❝  They don’t.  ❞
❝  They do  !  ❞
❝  They don’t. You know how I know  ?  ❞  He said it, all smug and with such finality that she paused in her crying, hiccuping as she stared up at him. She wouldn’t believe a word he said. She wouldn’t. In fact, she didn’t want to know how he knew. 
❝  . . . How  ?  ❞  She had betrayed herself  !  No  !  Was there no one she could trust  ?!  
❝  Because they talk about you a lot.  ❞  Simple. He said it like that was all the explanation it needed, like that had anything to do with it at all. But still. . . the way he said it and how he smiled at her. . . he couldn’t be lying. It had to be the truth. Was Patrus. . . actually not a dragon  ?  Perhaps he was a misunderstood ogre. No. She’d given in to the enemy too easily. . .
❝  They do  ?  ❞  
❝  Mhm. Your dad was telling me the other day that you’re very good at spelling and when I told him I could tell from the card you made me—  ❞  Josie gasped because she’d forgotten about the card—she’d shown weakness from the very beginning. . .  ❝  —he told me how proud he was of you.  ❞  
Josie froze, staring up at Patrus. So her parents didn’t like him better after all. . . they hadn’t told him how proud they were of him. Had she worried all this time for nothing  ?  She sniffled and watched as the older boy reached up to grab a washcloth from the linen closet before reaching out to her very slowly. He wiped the tears from her face and then very gently prompted her to blow her nose before rolling the washcloth up to avoid getting her nose-germs all over his hands. 
Something occurred to her, then. Did Patrus have anyone to tell him how proud of him they were  ?  Maybe that was why he was here in the first place. . . her parents had never actually told her why he was there.  ❝  Patrus  ?  ❞  
❝  Hm  ?  ❞
❝  Why are you here  ?  Where’s your mom and dad  ?  ❞  And she almost started to cry again when she watched the way his face fell and he flinched. She didn’t know why that reaction upset her so much, but she didn’t think that was a good question to ask. Maybe she should apologize or— 
❝  Well. . . they’re. . . I don’t have a mom or a dad  ?  ❞  He sounded unsure, but she was afraid to ask anymore questions. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings anymore. . . She’d done enough of that in the last few weeks, she thought. After all, he seemed like someone whose feelings were easily hurt. A kindred spirit, of sorts. 
Slowly, she stood up and wiped non-existent dirt off her pants before stepping toward Patrus and grabbing his face, pushing on his cheeks until he looked vaguely like a fish.  (  And he just let her do it  !  )   ❝  You can share mine. But you have to share. It’s bad not to share Mom and Dad, so you have to.  ❞
Patrus looked at her and then just nodded, but he also huffed out a laugh. She didn’t know why. This was serious business  !  What a funny guy. Or weird. And stupid. Oh boy, she had a lot of work to do. 
❝  Come on. Let’s go play. I’ll introduce you to my friends next door and the neighborhood cats and dogs.  ❞  She let go of his face only to grab his hand and tug him after her. 
❝  Wait, Josie, I have homework. . .  ❞  He sounded far too worried about work his school had sent home. Ridiculous. The neighborhood residents were much more important.
❝  No you don’t.  ❞
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A Wolf and a Leopard Walk Into a Store... Sounds like the Start to a Bad Joke: Chapter 3
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Notes:
Above you is my design for Moo (left) and Terroriser (right).
Like I said when I started, there are certain dynamics and conditions that I will have to introduce because some of these are of my own design.
For this chapter, the most relevant information you need is that not everyone has a subgender. In fact, sub genders are extremely rare and are therefore seen as an imperfect anomaly. More often than not, people with sub genders are discriminated against and kicked out of packs because having a sub gender is considered a disorder. Since it was born by human experiments, people with a sub gender are also correlated with signs of torture and manipulation.
In terms of style, this will be the first time that I switch perspectives. Sometimes, the story will be told from one person’s point of view for a while, but sometimes it switches, so just be aware.
Enjoy!
Previous Chapter: Chapter 2
Back to the Beginning: Chapter 1
Moo’s Perspective:
The next day
   Mornings weren’t exactly my favorite things in the world, but they were when I woke up like this.
  The moment I opened my eyes, I came face to face with a mop of fuzzy brown hair. Something firm and warm lay wrapped up in my arms and I couldn't help relishing in the presence as I buried my nose into the crook of the neck in front of me.
  Brian’s mellow honeydew scent doused my scent glands and I let out a content sigh. His scent was one of my most favorite things in the universe. The mornings like this where we woke up in each other’s arms were mornings that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
   My heart swelled as I felt the body in my arms shift and sink further into my embrace. In response, I threw a leg over Brian's hips and squeezed him lightly. He gave me an incredulous groan and slowly turned his head back towards me. I watched as he took in a deep breath and let it out, the first sign of him waking up.
   “Good morning sleepy head.” I murmured into his neck. Brian squirmed a little in my grasp and groaned again.
   “I don’t wanna wake up.” The werecat grumbled sleepily. I sighed.
   “Does that mean you’re not going to help me make breakfast?”
   One brilliant blue eye cracked open to look at me before he turned away and muttered a muffled, “Hell no.”
   I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re a dick.”
   Brian smirked and snuggled up against me even further. “I know. That’s why you love me.”
  For a moment, the werecat in my arms said nothing else. I took the chance to admire the stubble across his jaw. The wheels in his head seemed to turn as he squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips. I smiled when his cerulean blue eyes opened again and he rolled over in my arms to face me with a smile.
  “You know, I could make it up to you if you stayed with me for the morning.” He whispered conspiratorially, a familiar glint in his eyes. I smirked down at him and chuckled.
  “That sounds tempting… But-”, I quickly released him and rolled over to sit up. “I’m not sure I can spend the entire morning in bed with you.”
  There was a pause and then a quiet, “Two hours.”
  I turned to see Brian lying in a burrito of blankets. A pair of blazing blue eyes glared up at me from over the brown comforter.
  “One hour.” I countered. Brian's glare intensified and he seemed to think for a moment.
  “One and a half.” He paused. “That’s enough time, right?”
  I smiled lightly. “Alright. Half hour. Take it or leave it.”
  The sheets shifted as Brian sat up and scowled at me. “One hour. Take it or leave it.”
   I smirked and turned my body to face him completely. “Ten minutes. Final offer.”
   He paused before letting out a defeated sigh. “Fine…”
   I chuckled before lying down next to him again and tucking myself under the blankets. The werecat stayed sitting, his blue eyes glaring down at me.
  “Did you know t’at you’re also a dick?” Brian grumbled.
   “Yep. That’s why we get along.” I replied smoothly. He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his messy mop of hair.
  “Ten minutes huh? T’at’s definitely not enough time though.” He muttered under his breath.
   The idea of what he was referring to hit me as soon as he said that.
   Suddenly, I became an awkward, embarrassed mess as I tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Sure, Brian and I had done that plenty of times before, but it was still a fairly new concept to me that Brian was my boyfriend. Technically, we could have "us" time whenever we wanted.
  Even now though, I felt the small haunting twinge of insecurity in my chest that kept me from acknowledging what he was suggesting.
   “Brockward”, Brian sing-songed from his spot above me.
   I blushed at the nickname and looked up to see the werecat watching me with a sympathetic smile. He understood what was going through my head and, somehow, that warmed my heart enough for me to ignore my insecurities.
   “Shut up.” I huffed, burying my face in the blankets.
   It didn’t take long for Brian to lie down again and pull the blankets away from my face. I glared at him as soon as our eyes met. He simply smiled and threw an arm around me. His warmth seeped into my chest and tinged my fingertips as we drifted in and out of consciousness for a while.
   Admittedly, we stayed in bed longer than 10 minutes, but the hallway was quiet, which meant that no one was awake anyway. I’m not sure how long I spent trying to convince myself to get up and go cook breakfast for the pack, but it was ten in the morning when I twisted around to look at the clock on the bedside table.
  With a sigh, I rubbed my hands over my face and slowly peeled myself away from the comfort of Brian’s arms. He let out a low growl of displeasure and tried to pull me back as soon as I made the slightest move.
  “Brian. You know I gotta get up.” I muttered. The werecat opened one bleary eye to glare at me.
  “It hasn’t been ten minutes yet.”
  “It’s definitely been longer than ten minutes babe.” I muttered fondly.
  Brian's expression dropped for a moment before he broke out into a lopsided grin. “You called me babe.”
  I rolled my eyes and tried to pull away again as heat crept up to fill my cheeks.
  “Are you sure it’s been ten minutes?” Brian whined. I let out an exasperated yet amused groan.
  “Yes. It’s been ten minutes.”
  Brian lifted himself up and leaned over me far enough to see the clock and then some. He paused for a second to glare at something. Then, before I could suspect anything, he dropped down on top of me and sprawled out across my side in an effort to hold me down.
  Before he could fully pin me, I wiggled out from underneath him, threw the blankets off, and jumped up from the bed. I turned just in time to side step my clumsy attacker as he reached out to grab me. Brian barely saved himself from face planting onto the ground with his arms out stretched.
   I chuckled lightly as he retreated back into the blankets and scowled at me from his burrow.
   “Outsmarted yet again. I think that’s 4-0 this week in my favor. I’m doin’ pretty good.” I patted myself on the back as I walked over to one of the dressers in my room to pick out some clothes.
   “Oh whatever. It was 5-2 in my favor last week, so I figured I’d give you some pity points.” The burrito across the room grumbled. I turned to raise an eyebrow at him as I threw on a new shirt and some pants.
  “What’s that? Someone doesn’t want pancakes for breakfast? That’s alright. More for the rest of us.”
   “Hey! T’at’s not fair! At least make me one.” Brian whined adorably from his place on the bed.
   I crossed my arms and glared at him. “What’s the magic word?”
   Brian sighed and scooted down further into his blankets. “Please.”
   “There’s a good boy.” I cooed as I walked over to him. He gave me a disgusted look just before I kissed him lightly on the forehead. “I’ll make one pancake just for you.”
   “What if I wanted two?” The blue eyed demon asked with a quirked eyebrow.
   “Then, you should’ve asked for two.” I responded easily.
   “And yet no one believes me when I say you’re a bigger dick than I am.” Brian grumbled as I moved towards the door.
   “I’m only nice to them ‘cause they say please.” I winked at him and walked out the door, a baffled cry following me out.
   With a self satisfied smile, I made my way to the bathroom before heading downstairs to make breakfast.
  At first, I was tempted to make the pack oatmeal or cereal and leave that out for them. That was normally my go-to on days that I took Brian up on his offer or when I simply felt too lazy to do anything besides watch TV.
   However, I figured that I couldn’t go back up to hang out with Brian after fighting so hard to leave and make breakfast. Plus, I had promised him a pancake.
  So, I decided on making a full course meal.  I liked making big meals from time to time because they gave me time to focus on nothing but cooking for a while. I could space out as long as I wanted. No one else was up to interrupt me either.
   Looking through the fridge for my ingredients, I felt grateful that there was supposed to be a grocery run later that day. We were running low on some things.
  Luckily, with a quick glance through everything, I deducted that there would be enough food for breakfast and lunch that day before we were in trouble.
   Perhaps that was one of the downsides to living with so many people. Cooking for ten grown men never failed to be difficult, especially because their diets were so diverse. Not to mention they were all picky mother truckers. I still enjoyed my time spent making food in the kitchen though.
   I grabbed an apron from the pantry and, after some preparation and dish-washing, began cooking. The smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes slowly permeated the air. Everything finished cooking about twenty minutes later. I snacked on the bacon as it finished and put everything else on a plate to put in the oven which kept everything warm while I waited for the others to wake up.
  “That smells amazing.” A familiar scent wafted into the kitchen under the thick aroma of bacon.
  I turned to see Vanoss standing in the archway that led to the stairs. His raven locks looked ruffled, as if he had just woken up, but his all gray outfit seemed fresh and a small smile lifted the corners of his lips. His dark brown eyes were fixated on the stove in front of me. I let out a pleased hum and turned back to continue my work.
  “Why thank you. I try.”
  There was a huff of laughter before I heard the wood floor beneath us creak and the air next to me shifted. I glanced sideways to see a pair of tan, muscular arms stretching out towards me.
  A smile danced across my lips as I set down the spatula I'd been using, wiped off my hands on my apron, and turned to hug the alpha.
  Despite Evan being slightly shorter than me, I got the distinct impression that he was the one in charge here. Originally, when I first met him and we decided to become a pack, I was intimidated by the idea of being a subordinate to anyone. After all, that was why I hated my original tribe.
  Evan was different though. It was his tradition to keep the pack healthy by seeing to each individual’s needs. This was a perfect example of that.
  No matter what, Evan always hugged the first person he saw in the morning. Whoever that person was depended on when he woke up but, generally, I was the first one he saw. On the other hand, members like Nogla or Panda, who slept at random hours of the day, rarely got these sorts of hugs.
   I enjoyed the tradition though and Evan was a good friend. In general, he was a tad overbearing to the unfamiliar eye with his muscular arms and resting bitch face. Evan acted tough whenever there were pack matters to attend to or whenever we were out in public, but he was actually really sweet. No one would ever realize that he was the most mischievous and childish one out of all of us or that he gave the best hugs.
   In reality, he was just a buff teddy bear.
   After a moment, Evan let go and leaned back to look at me curiously. “What were you just thinking about?”
   I smirked. “I was thinking that you act scary but you’re really not as intimidating as you pretend.”
   The alpha glared at me and spun on his heel so that he was facing the fridge.
  “I take back my statement about the food smelling delicious. It smells like pooooooop.” He shot back, popping the “p” at the end of his sentence as he opened the fridge and pulled out the milk.
  “Sometimes, I swear you’re a child in a grown man’s body.” I snarked.
  “And what if I am?” Evan gave me a mischievous wink before dancing around the island counter and sitting on the other side with his half full gallon of milk in hand.
  “Hey!” I pointed the spatula at him just as he took the cap off and put the jug to his lips. He stopped and looked at me out of the corner of his eye.
  "You better not be drinking that straight out of the carton.” I growled. Evan looked down at the jug before slowly turning his chair so that I couldn't see what he was doing.
  “Noooooo… Who would do such a thing?” He responded innocently. I watched as he raised the gallon of milk to his mouth and took a huge swig.
  “That is disgusting!” I yelled.
  “That is mahogany!” A horribly high pitched voice shouted from the stairs.
  Evan jumped a little and looked sideways towards the sound. I rolled my eyes and smiled as Scotty came around the corner of the fridge to stand in the kitchen. His tawny hair had been swept neatly to the side of his forehead and his blue eyes were brimming with curiosity as he glanced between me and Evan.
  “Who’s disgusting?” He asked in his normal voice while grabbing a muffin from yesterday’s breakfast off the counter.
  “Our fearless leader over here is chugging the milk straight from the carton.” I informed him with a flick of the spatula in my hand.
  Scotty rose an eyebrow at Evan who had restarted his mission and was gulping down the last half-gallon of milk. I watched in astonishment as the milk quickly disappeared.
  As soon as it was empty, Evan slammed the empty jug on the counter and made a loud, sarcastic “ah” sound. Scotty laughed and reached across the counter to give the alpha a high five. I smacked Scot lightly on the shoulder. He gave me a guilty smile, but not before receiving his high-five.
   “I swear you guys will be the death of me.” I muttered.
  Evan belched loudly in response and received yet another high five from Scotty. I was so focused on the two in front of me that I didn’t notice that Panda had come wandering in from the living room on the other side of the kitchen. He stared at the alpha in surprise before also giving him a high five.
  “Don’t encourage him!” I reprimanded them.
  Panda and Scotty both gave me an apologetic look. Evan, on the other hand, looked so smug that I had to resist the urge to reach across the counter and smack him.
  “You’re going out to get another jug tonight.” I ordered, pointing the spatula at him again.
  “We already had plans to go shopping today so-” He shrugged nonchalantly.
   I rolled my eyes and turned back to my task of making breakfast with a smile while the other three began talking and joking with one another.
   When I was sure that almost everything was done, I pulled out the food that had already been cooked from the oven. Slowly, I began maneuvering all the food over to the counter in a buffet line arrangement.
  At some point, Marcel appeared next to me and began gathering plates and silverware for everyone. I smiled and shoulder checked him. The alpha gave me a smile in return.
   “Where are Mini and Wildcat?” I asked him as we worked.
   “I think they’re both still sleeping." Marcel responded in a soft tone under Panda's laughter. "Mini still smelt sick when Evan and I got home last night. I wouldn’t be surprised if he stays in bed for a while longer."
   I nodded. “I was wondering how he was doing. He’s in Tyler’s room though, isn’t he?”
   Marcel chuckled. “Is that even a question? They may have their fights but you know as well as I do that they come back together eventually. We both know how protective Tyler gets whenever Mini is sick or injured.”
   I sighed. That didn't really answer my question, but the alpha had a point.
  “Yes, I know. They just worry me sometimes.”
   Marcel let out a sympathetic hum as he turned to place some plates on the island counter.
  I couldn't help but notice that we were both worried for different reasons. Mini's three day disappearance last week had shaken the pack in more ways than one. However, most of the pack was more worried about the beta's physical health because of his cold. After Craig told them that he and Tyler had been fighting beforehand though, everyone sort of accepted his vanishing act. I knew better than that.
  “So, I assume you won today’s round of tug-of-war with Brian.” Marcel spoke up. I rolled my eyes and smiled, trying my best to push my worries to the back of my mind.
  “Is that even a question Marcel?” I responded in a mock version of his voice. He chuckled and shook his head.
  “What’s the score this week?” The alpha asked with a sideways glance at me. I smirked.
  “4-0.”
  “My man!” Marcel raised a hand to give me a high-five. I indulged him with a smile, my heart warming at the familiarity.
   Once we set out the plates, Marcel and I filled them with food for everyone that seemed to be awake at the moment. We made sure to set aside food for Tyler and Mini, who still had yet to make an appearance, and Brian.
   After everyone got a plate, we all sat down at the table to eat and join in on our usual banter. It was slightly less noisy without Nogla or Terroriser yelling at everyone, but we still maintained a bit of noise between all of us.
   “Speaking of which,” I piped up from my spot at the table, “when are Lui and Nogla supposed to be back?”
   “I think they said they hoped to be back by today.” Scotty responded around a mouthful of food.
   “Yeah, that’s if they don’t get into trouble again.” Panda commented, eliciting chuckles from everyone at the table.
   “Well, hopefully Lui will be reasonable this time.” Marcel replied before letting out an overly exasperated sigh. “Probably not though.”
   Everyone shook their heads and smiled at the memory of the last time Lui and Nogla went out on their own.
  Apparently, the pair had stopped by a store to get some stuff for the house and the shopkeeper there had been extremely rude to them. So, as a prank, they put glue all over the man’s chair so that he got stuck to it the moment that he sat down. It had been Lui's idea, or at least the other half of him, but Nogla didn't stop the shapeshifter.
  Both demons came running home with humans on their tails. Evan had been furious until he realized that the humans weren’t hunters. In fact, after he listened to Lui and Nogla’s side of the story, he started laughing and, just like that, all was forgiven.
  However, I knew that the event still bothered him. Evan held himself responsible for the actions of the pack as well as their safety. Being discovered by the humans of Panlyog was one of his biggest fears. Letting his pack members interact with humans without his aid came next in line as another one of his biggest fears.
   Even now, I could see Evan's shoulders tensing at the mention of Lui and Nogla. It probably didn’t help that, not only did he have two members out in the field, he also had a member sick with a self-inflicted cold. Yet, somehow, today, he managed to look more anxious than usual. I made a mental note to check on him later.
   When everyone finished their breakfast, we all played rock-paper-scissors to see who would have to clean it all up. To my relief, Scotty and Panda lost out to cleaning the kitchen. Sometimes, I ended up losing so I would have to cook and clean, which was a task that I wasn’t up for most days.
   Leaving Scotty and Panda to complain about doing chores while Marcel and Evan watched movies, I headed upstairs to find out what the others were doing. My first priority was to check on Mini and Wildcat.
  I knocked on Tyler’s door first. When no one responded, I knocked again. Still, no one answered.
  Ignoring the feeling of anxiety in my chest, I moved onto Mini’s room and continued knocking there. It didn't take long for a response to come this time.
  From the other side of the door, I heard a noisy thump, accompanied by a frustrated growl. After several heartbeats, the sound of claws scraping across the door frame grated on my ears. The sound persisted and I glanced down only to see the door knob slowly turn: once… twice… three times. I tried to open the door from my side, but it was locked.
   Bewildered, I waited until the door finally swung open to reveal a very tall, very pissed off tiger. The smell of angry alpha stung at my nostrils as the giant white and black feline stalked forward.
  Instantly, my beta instincts kicked in and my body began producing a calming pheromone to ease the intimidating alpha who’s shoulders stood as tall as my chest, his neck fur bristling.
   There was a moment where the tiger stood in the doorway and didn’t make a move. Then, the scent of anger mellowed and I was finally able to catch Mini’s sweet honey scent drifting out from the room behind the tiger. It smelled stale.
   “Sorry Brock.” Tyler muttered in a voice that sounded nothing short of animalistic. In fact, his voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to him at all.
   Concerned, I cleared my throat and asked in an uncertain voice, “What happened?”
   The tiger scowled, his blue eyes blazing. It took everything in my power not to shrink away from him.
   “I came to see Mini last night. We both fell asleep in there but, this morning, he was gone.”
   Lifting one of his massive paws, the white tiger revealed a half shredded piece of paper stuck in between his claws. I reached down to pull it off in a single motion, careful to avoid the sharp talons staring at me with an intimidating glint.
   In Mini’s handwriting, the note read: “I’m going to see Kryoz and Smii7y. Hopefully they  can tell us what’s wrong with us. I’ll be home soon.”
   “‘Hopefully they can tell us what’s wrong with us.’” I read the line aloud. The tiger in front of me turned his head away.
  “Tyler. Does this mean what I think it does?” I inquired uneasily. The alpha snarled nervously and glared at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re stuck, aren't you?”
  The flicker of doubt and fear in Tyler's eyes should have been expected, especially since I'd seen it just last week. Normally though, Tyler was strong and he never allowed anyone to see his fear.
  Perhaps their counterparts are changing more than we thought. I thought to myself forlornly.
  Recently, both Mini and Wildcat had started getting stuck in their animal forms. It doesn't sound that bad from an outsider's point of view, but every demon knows how bad it is to be stuck in animal form. Not being able to change back into a human is dangerous for everybody involved. Getting stuck means that a person is reduced to their most basic instincts, which are to hunt and to kill.
  I'd heard many stories about demons getting stuck and, eventually, going feral. For a Feral demon, all self control goes out the window. There had been entire cities wiped out and thousands of people massacred over the years because a demon got "stuck" and decided to kill everyone.The worst part of it was that it normally didn't matter if the demon was facing a friend or a family member. A stuck/feral demon would kill anyone in their way if given the chance.
  Personally, I'd never seen anyone go feral nor had I met someone in danger of going feral or getting stuck. That was until I met Mini and Tyler. Neither of them were at the dangerous stage yet, but it was bound to get there at some point, especially if they continued getting stuck as often as they were.
  Being subgenders only made their current situation more dire than anything else I could think of. Their subgender counterparts, the alpha and beta DNA in them, were keeping them from transforming back into human form.
  Mini and Tyler were very secretive about their recent issues and they had agreed not to tell anyone in the pack. I was good friends with Craig though.
 Months ago, when Mini and Tyler's problem with getting stuck first came up, Mini hadn't been able to hide the truth from me. He told me everything that had been happening and it was only last week that he told Tyler that I knew. I had enough sense to realize that Tyler was still uncertain how to feel about my involvement.
   After several long moments of tense silence, Tyler shook his massive head.
  “Sometimes, I think you’re too good at your job.” He growled.
   “How long?” I asked curtly. A low rumble vibrated the air around me.
   “Since this morning. When I woke up, I was all cat, no claws.”
   “So you were stuck before you even woke up?” I asked, slightly taken aback. Tyler cringed and sat back on his haunches, his black-striped tail lashing back and forth.
  “I know. It’s bad. Plus, I got stuck in that stupid room all day. I couldn’t calm down enough to open the door and I couldn’t yell for help in case anyone started asking questions.”
   “So, Mini must have woken up to this,” I made a gesture at the tiger, “and decided to leave for help.”
  Tyler flicked his ears at me irritably but nodded nonetheless. I heaved a sigh and tilted my head back to look at the ceiling above me.
  It made sense that the beta was visiting the two rogues who lived on the outskirts of our territory. Smii7y had spent years studying subgenders. If there was ever a demon who knew about the subgender gene and it's complications, it would definitely be the young panther. Even if he didn’t know what was happening, Kryoz, Smii7y's mate, would probably be able to figure out how to reverse the transformation temporarily. Still...
  “There was a reason we weren’t going to go to them.” I muttered, glancing down at the white tiger still seated in front of me.
   “You’re telling me.” Tyler growled, his voice sounding better, more human, the more time he spent outside of Mini’s room. Silently, I prayed that no one else would smell him or come upstairs to see him as he was.
  Part of me felt terrible for leaving the pack in the dark. We didn’t tell them for fear that they would panic. However, these incidents were getting more frequent by the days.
  In fact, last week, when Mini disappeared for three days, it was because he had gotten stuck and refused to come to the pack for fear of hurting them. He turned up sometime during the night of the third day, hungry and down with a cold. Neither of us told Vanoss or the rest of the pack the truth behind why he disappeared. We simply made up a lie that Mini and Wildcat had gotten into a fight, which was only half of what actually happened.
   I shook my head and ran my hands over my face. Mini and I had agreed not to tell anyone in the pack that him and his boyfriend had been having issues with their subgender counterparts. This time though, they hadn’t seen Tyler's obstruction coming, which made it worse.
   “Evan can’t find out.”
   Tyler's blue eyes looked up at me gravely. “I know.”
   I folded my arms and shook my head. “It would be easy to just walk out without a word if you didn’t wreak of angry alpha.”
  A warning growl rumbled from the tiger’s throat, to which I rolled my eyes.
   “So, you can’t turn back at all?”
    Tyler shook his head. “I tried once I realized what happened this morning. I still haven’t been able to reverse the shift though.”
   “Try it now.” I suggested.
   The white tiger closed his eyes and shifted on his feet. He stayed like that for several heartbeats, but nothing happened.
  Letting out a low growl, he shook his head. “It’s no use. He won’t let me.”
   I nodded. “I kind of figured. Do you know what he wants?”
   The tiger sighed. “He wants what he always wants.” His blue eyes pulsed anxiously as he glanced around. “I have to find Mini.”
   I watched the tiger carefully as he stood and shook himself roughly. “Ya know, I’m not sure that that’s a good idea. You could end up getting him stuck as well.”
   Tyler blinked and hummed considerably before shaking his head. “As long as he doesn’t fall asleep or transform, he should be safe. Being around each other is how we survived before. Plus, maybe the tiger will  release me or maybe Kryoz will have a solution to shift me back.”
   I let out an uneasy growl as I considered the truth in Tyler's words. The only thing that made me hold my tongue was the chance that the situation could turn from bad to worse. Mini and Tyler had yet to get stuck at the same time, but it was only a matter of time. It was only a matter of time until they...
   “It’s about the only choice we have.” Tyler grumbled. I swallowed a ball of nerves building in my throat and nodded slowly.
   “Unfortunately, I think you might be right." I conceded.
  Tyler noticed my look of concern and turned his head away. He was hiding just as many fears as I was. I could see them swirling through his eyes as he stared at the window down the hall.
  "The problem is, how are we going to sneak you out past the others?” I asked in an effort to distract him. The tiger blinked before turning an inquiring gaze towards me.
   “Are they even awake?”
   I couldn’t help but smile a little at Tyler’s obliviousness. “Yes. I made breakfast so they all came down to eat besides Brian. Everyone's awake… even Panda.”
   The tiger’s eyes widened a little. “Wow. So I’m missing the party."
   I nodded. “Yeah, pretty much… I made some food for everyone. Your meal and Mini’s are in the oven still.”
   Tyler watched me with subdued gratitude, the tip of his tail flicking lightly. I cleared my throat and glanced away, shifting my weight on my feet awkwardly.
   “Anyway, you need to get out of here and find Mini without Vanoss finding out.” I mused. The tiger rumbled considerably.
   “I could always jump to the trees.” He suggested after a moment.
   “From what? The roof?” I asked in disbelief. Tyler nodded his striped head.
  “Why not?”
   I gaped at him for a moment. “Are you serious?”
   “Well, yeah. I saw Scotty do it one time. I could probably do it.”
   I rolled my eyes. “That’s just stupid.”
   “Do you have a better idea?” Tyler countered with an impatient look.
   “You could climb out the window?” I replied, uncertain. He glared up at me, disbelief swirling in his blue eyes.
   “You mean scale a 90 degree wall from two stories up? In this form? I doubt I could make it without breaking something let alone crawl my way out of the window.”
   I shifted on my feet. “Well… at least a two story drop with a little bit of support could be better than a three story drop straight out of a tree.”
   The tiger sighed. “You do have a point … I guess.”
   “It’s about the only choice we got.” I muttered as I walked down the hallway to the window Tyler had been staring at moments ago.
  With a few deft movements, I unlocked it and pulled it open. The sound of heavy paws on hard wood floors followed behind me.
   “Are you sure this is safe?” Tyler asked as he poked his giant head out of the window.
   I shrugged. “Probably not. Oh well though, right?”
   The tiger fixed me with his dubious blue eyes. “Welp. Here goes nothing.”
   I shifted out of the way to allow the tiger past.
   Tyler was already tall in human form and his tiger form was no exception. His shoulders clipped the top of the window as he pulled himself up onto the windowsill.
  I watched the tiger take a deep breath before he slowly started shimmying himself out the window. The sounds of his claws scraping across the side of the house grated on my ears. He only got to his hind legs before they bumped against the top most window and stopped him from getting out the rest of the way.
   “Tyler?” I asked worriedly, stepping forward only to realize that the only thing I could really offer at this point was emotional support.
  The tiger’s tail lashed violently, narrowly missing my face. Then, with some sort of twist and a dedicated snarl, Tyler’s striped hindquarters disappeared out the window.
   I rushed forward to look over the edge and caught the moment that the tiger landed in the grass, on his feet. A sigh of relief escaped my lips before I could really think about it.
  There was a low, distant growl from the tiger as he lifted and rotated each paw experimentally. Once he made sure everything was in its rightful place, he turned his head to look up at the window where I sat.
  He waved his tail a little and flicked his ears at me saying, “I’m fine Brock. Thank you. I’ll be back.”
  With that, he shook himself one more time and trotted off into the forest. I waited until his black and white tail disappeared before reluctantly turning back towards my room.
  I wanted to follow him to see what happened next, but I knew I couldn't. I had to stay behind and cover for them.
  Briefly, I checked the stairway to see if anybody had noticed Tyler's scent and felt my knees go a little weak when I saw no one there. With a small pat on the back for getting Tyler out without anybody noticing, I wandered towards my door, my body already searching for some sort of stress reliever.
   As soon as I opened the door, I was rewarded by the smell of happy werecat. Brian stood dancing in his underwear in the middle of the room, mumbling the words to some song that he was listening to on the TV.
  The sight was so familiar and comforting that I couldn’t help but double over with a breathless chuckle. The stress from Wildcat's incident, combined with Brian’s sweet honeydew scent, made me dizzy and, after a moment, I realized I was about to fall. I sat down roughly on the floor before my body could fail me and leaned back on my hands.
   Brian rushed over, a worried expression imprinted on his face as he crouched down in front of me.
  “Are you okay?” He asked, his hands already reaching for my face. I nodded distractedly as my wave of vertigo subsided.
  “I’m fine. Just a little dizzy."
   “You're stressed." Brian growled, his fingers gently brushing my cheeks despite the stern look in his eyes. "It’s Vanoss again isn’t it? What'd that asshole do this time?”
   I shook my head, smiling internally at the ongoing feud between Evan and Terroriser. “Actually, it’s not really his fault. I’m worried about Mini is all.”
   “I’m sure he’s wit' Wildcat in one of their rooms. He’ll be fine.” Brian responded confidently as he retracted his hand.
   For a moment, I considered letting him continue to believe that. However, I knew it would only create anxiety if anyone went into Mini’s room or Wildcat’s and found that no one was there.
   “Actually, Mini went to Smii7y and Kryoz’s place. Wildcat followed him out.” I informed the werecat, trying to hide my unease as I realized that Wildcat’s scent still faintly clung to my clothing.
  Luckily, Brian didn’t seem to notice the smell of angry alpha clinging to me or drifting in from the hallway. He even shrugged off his faint look of surprise at discovering that Mini and Tyler weren't home.
   “He probably went to see if they had cold medicine, right? Plus, even if I wasn’t right about ‘em being here, I was right to say that they're together. Doesn’t that account for somet’in’?”
   I pursed my lips a little before nodding. “Yeah, you’re right.”
   Brian smiled gently before leaning forward to kiss me on the forehead.
  “Good. Now, stop worrying so much. Come dance wit’ me.” He suggested with a contagious grin.
   I rolled my eyes and chuckled despite myself. “If anything, I’d much rather watch you be a dork than be one myself.”
   “I t’ink you’re a little late on stopping that one BUT, suit yourself.” He quipped as he bounced out of my reach. With an amused huff, I got up and walked over to the bed to sit down.
  As it turned out, Brian had been getting ready to go downstairs to find me before I came up to see him instead. He explained this to me amidst getting dressed and dancing.
  At some point, he grabbed a hair brush and began singing into it. He didn't know all the words to the song that was playing and he was definitely off key, but the sight alone warmed my heart and allowed me to push my worries away. For the moment being, it was just me and him. There were no mysterious alphas or trouble ridden subgenders to worry about. It was just me and the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
  After his song finished, Brian turned off the TV and left the room, still in his underwear. He came back after a while, still dancing to a song that only he could hear.
   “Between you and Mini, Marcel is going to end up getting gray hairs.” I commented as he walked in.
   He paused mid-stride and pointed to himself, as if to say, “Me?”.
   “No the ghost behind you.” I grumbled sarcastically.
  To my reluctant amusement, Brian turned to look behind him. He even went so far as to look under his arms and feet for the imaginary ghost. I chuckled and rolled my eyes.
  “Yes you! Who else would I be talking to?” I questioned in mock exasperation.
   Brian shrugged. “I dunno. Why are we giving Marcel gray hairs though? I t'ought that was Evan and Nogla’s job?”
   I chuckled. “Yes, but if you two keep wandering around the house in your underwear, Marcel’s bound to catch you and lock you outside.”
   "He'd have to catch me first." Brian responded smugly.
   I rolled my eyes. "I'd be willing to bet that he'd catch you within five minutes if you went down there right now."
   Brian’s blue eyes narrowed mischievously. “Challenge accepted.”
  Just before he could turn to run out the door, I reached forward and caught him by the wrist.
   “I wouldn’t do it today." I warned the werecat. "He’s already gonna be angry if he finds out that Evan chugged the last of the milk.”
   Brian turned to look at me with a baffled expression. “Evan did what now?”
  I smiled and shrugged tiredly at the thought of Marcel finding out.
  “T’ere was a half gallon in there…" Brian mused before abruptly crouching down to look directly into my eyes with intrigue. "How long’d it take?”
   “I think it was around 15 seconds.”
   “Good lords that guy’s a beast.” Brian commented, clearly impressed. I smiled while he crawled into bed behind me.
   “That’s one way of putting it.” I muttered.
   A small sigh of laughter resounded through the air. I turned to look at Brian only to realize that he was curling up on the bed, ready to fall asleep again.
   “Are you seriously taking another nap? You probably just woke up from last night’s ‘nap’! And you just got ready to go downstairs.” I uttered in amusement and disbelief.
   “I know, but now I just wanna curl up with my Brocky-boo and fall asleep again.” Brian protested, reaching his arms out for me.
   I rolled my eyes and leaned back to lay on his exposed stomach without letting myself get too comfortable. “Fine. I’m not gonna fall asleep though cause then I won’t be able to go to sleep tonight.”
  Brian let out a content sigh and I knew from experience that he didn't mind.
   One of the many enjoyable things about Brian was the rumble produced through his body when he purred. This phenomenon usually occurred when he slept, but that seemed to be an effect of me sleeping next to him. Brian only ever purred when he was happy and content.
  Once again, my room was coated in the smell of happy werecat which chased away the acrid scent of my stress and Wildcat’s anger.
   I could feel Brian just starting to drift off when, suddenly, there came celebratory shouting from downstairs. I lifted myself drearily from the stomach pillow I’d been laying on and looked around in confusion.
   “What was that?” Brian muttered, his voice thick with sleep.
   I shrugged and rubbed at my eyes. “I have no idea. Either someone just got roasted or Nogla and Lui-”
   As if by design, I was interrupted by a heavily accented voice yelling about something concerning his wings. Brian chuckled.
   “I'd go wit' t'e last one. Nogla and Lui must be home.” He commented. I chuckled and got up from the bed.
  “Most likely. Which means we should go welcome him back before he runs up here and finds you in your tiddywiddies.”
   Brian laughed and kicked at me playfully. “Well t'en go distract him so I can get dressed.”
   I giggled as I headed for the door. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll tell him you aren't dressed just so he can get his camera out and take some pictures.”
   “Ye better not!”
   “We’ll see.” I responded mischievously. A plaintive whine of “babe” followed me to the door. “Just get dressed ya big goof.”
   With a smile, I wandered downstairs and to see what the commotion was about. As soon as I turned the corner into the living room, something white and feathery whacked me in the face. I let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled backwards.
   There was a collection of exasperated groans who muttered "Nogla" as I regained my balance and reached up to rub my face. Within seconds, those voices cut themselves off with yells of astonishment.
   “Nogla! Your wings!” Vanoss barked from behind a giant white appendage.
  I couldn’t see the raven haired shapeshifter over the white feathers and the blinding smile given to me by the 6 foot something angel-like creature standing in my path, but I knew he was there.
   Nogla’s wings shrunk closer to him as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his green hoodie.
  “Hi Moo! I’m back!” He greeted me enthusiastically.
   “I see that.” I chuckled with a last futile rub at my burning nose.
   “Sorry ‘bout t'e nose. I forget how cramped it gets in here.” He admitted with a nervous smile.
   “You would think that after three years of living here, he would figure out how to keep those things in check.” Marcel commented loudly to Evan, who I assumed was standing next to him.
   I chuckled as Nogla let out an indignant "Hey!" and turned to face the two of them. Luckily, they jumped out of the way just before Nogla’s wings could clip them again.
   “Ye two fookers are just jealous t’at ye don’t have t’ese majestic wings.” Nogla retorted, his wings flaring a little.
   “Uh-huh. T’at’s definitely it.” A familiar voice popped up behind me. I turned a little to see Brian standing behind me, fully clothed and with a smile.
  Nogla turned with a grin just as Brian gently pushed past me to give him a hug. I smiled fondly at the two while they traded murmured greetings.
   Sometimes, I had to remind myself that Terroriser and Nogla had basically grown up together. They lived together for most of their teenage years before they met any of us. That’s why Nogla’s unique accent tended to cling to Brian whenever he spoke.
   Giving Nogla and Brian some privacy, I glanced around the other half of the living room to see that Panda and Scotty were already sitting down. It took me by surprise when I glanced over and saw Mini casually sitting on one of the couches, eating a sandwich. He watched our scene unfold intently. Therefore, it didn’t take long for our eyes to meet.
   Somehow, from that one look, I knew that he hadn’t made progress that morning. He looked tense and a little disturbed for a moment before the emotions were washed off his face and he turned back to participate happily in a conversation between Scotty and Panda.
   “Where’s Lui at?” Brian was asking as I turned back to the group still standing at the edge of the hall way.
   “He wanted to say hi to some people not too far from the border, so I decided to go on ahead.” Nogla responded.
   Brian nodded. “Let me guess, he wanted to say hi to his girlfriend.”
  The two friends chuckled as they migrated to the couches where Marcel had joined the other three in watching a movie.
   Immediately, my attention went to Evan who was still standing where he had been when I first walked in. Coincidentally, he was already looking at me, his brown eyes tinged with worry. I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.
   “Ya good?” I murmured softly under the renewed noise of the household.
   His eyes didn’t leave me for a good while. The shapeshifter didn’t say a word but, being within such close proximity to him, I could feel his anxiety. I knew why he was anxious even if he didn’t tell me.
   It was our one indisputable rule that none of the members of the pack should go anywhere without another person, especially if they were in the human city.
  Lui was strong and smart in lots of ways, but I knew that Evan worried about him a lot. He was concerned for every member but, to the humans, Lui and Nogla were extremely valuable. Nogla was so unique that any human would want to kidnap him just to study him and there was still a strong desire for shapeshifters on the Market. Evan kept a close eye on the whereabouts of the two just in case he had to save them when they got into trouble. Lui being on his own violated a lot of our rules.
   “He’ll be fine. He can take care of himself.” I reassured Evan, squeezing his shoulder gently.
  The tense alpha simply gave me one of his sad, concerned puppy dog looks before he looked away. I sighed and followed him to the couches to sit down with the others.
   Despite the overall tensions in the pack that Nogla was undoubtedly aware of, he maintained his hyper demeanor. In fact, he tended to be more hyper after missions, if that was even possible. Today seemed to be no exception.
   Nogla told us all about his adventures quite animatedly. Half of us paid attention, but the other half, including Marcel, were too invested in the movie to really pay him any mind. Unfortunately for them, Nogla only increased in excitement and noise as he continued to talk with Vanoss and Brian.
  Eventually, Marcel let out an overly exasperated sigh and sunk down dramatically against the couch.
   “Hey, uh, Nogla? I think you deflated Marcel.” Evan commented with a grin.
   “Legit he has not stopped talking since he got back.” Marcel grumbled.
   Nogla glanced up with a confused look. “Who? Me?”
   The rest of us gawked at him while Marcel yelled, “Yeah! You!”
   A dorky smile swept across Nogla’s face and he glanced down shyly at the bag of candy he was now munching on.
  “That’s just ‘cause I just like ya guys. Ya know…” He trailed off incoherently. I resisted the urge to swoon over him while Brian piped up beside me.
   “I think it’s got somet’in’ to do wit’ t’e eight bags of M&Ms I just ate, but I dunno. I like being wit’ ya guys.” He said in a hyper voice, his accent more exaggerated to imitate Nogla.
   Everyone laughed for a moment and then faded out at as they focused on the movie. Nogla continued chuckling and then, in a quiet voice, he murmured, “I actually like M&Ms.”
   There was a collection of “Oh my Gods” and laughter. Nogla looked at us innocently and continued chewing on his food.
   Mini chuckled, following it up with a weary, “I don't think that was the point Nogla but alright."
   “I love that man.” Brian said in between huffs of laughter.
   For the most part, we spent the rest of the day laughing, poking fun at each other, and watching movies. It wasn’t until later that night that we remembered that we were supposed to have gone grocery shopping.
   Marcel was the first to notice after he went to get a bowl of cereal and found that there was no milk.
   “Who the fuck finished off the milk!?” Came the cry from the kitchen.
   My eyes flickered over to Evan who had suddenly found a profound interest in whatever movie we had put in earlier that evening. I chuckled as Marcel came stomping in with a bowl of cereal without the milk.
   “We had a half gallon last night! How the fuck do you assholes finish all that in one day!?”
   “They chug it.” I muttered quietly with a significant look at Vanoss. Scotty and Panda giggled from across the room.
   “Alright! Who wants to go shopping?” Evan suddenly shouted, standing abruptly.
   “I’ll go.” Scotty responded eagerly. Evan nodded in appreciation before asking again.
  Perhaps it was a trick of the light or my imagination, but I saw a flash of apprehension appear in Scotty’s face for a split second before it disappeared. The incident was so fast that I wasn’t even sure if it actually happened.
  Brushing it off, I glanced over to see Marcel raising his hand as well.
   “I’ll go. Without me, you’d probably forget something… again.” He muttered with an accusatory glare at Vanoss who, to his credit, looked slightly guilty.
  Last time we went shopping, Marcel asked for a candy bar to be brought back with the other groceries. Of course Evan forgot.
   Clearing his throat importantly, Evan continued on. “Anyone else?”
   “I’ll go.” Brian responded from his spot beside me. “I could use some exercise. Plus, I have yet to kick Scotty’s ass in a race.” He added, pointing at the panther across the room.
   “Bring it on, borther.” Scotty replied with an excited grin.
   “I’ll go with too, I guess.” I conceded when Evan glanced at me with a questioning look.
   “That should be enough then. We leave in five minutes.”
   Everyone nodded and the patrol that was to leave dispersed in different directions, some to the bathroom, some to find shoes.
   It only took me a moment to notice that Mini had also disappeared with the others. The smell of that mornings breakfast seeped out from the kitchen. I followed it to find Mini humming to himself while he checked his phone and waited for his food to finish heating up.
 As I walked around the counter and took a seat on a bar stool, I noticed that his gaze was resolutely focused on his phone. His glasses clung to the end of his nose and his silver topped hair looked ruffled, as if he hadn't taken a shower in a few days. The beta didn't look up at me even when I cleared my throat to get his attention. I shook my head.
   “You and Tyler are so much alike, it’s not even funny.” I muttered.
   Mini shrugged. “Probably an effect of living together for so long.”
   “True… You coming with us?” I asked over the sound of the beeping microwave. Mini finally glanced up at me with a frown. Even the blindest person on Earth could see the anxiety and despair in his blue gray eyes as he sighed.
  “No. I have to wait for Tyler. He should be home tonight… Hopefully...” He trailed off, his fingers twitching idly before he turned to open the microwave and retrieve his food.
   I eyed him carefully out of the corner of my eye. Tyler staying out longer had to mean something. If anything, it most likely meant that Kryoz was trying to reverse the transformation or that the panther and his mate were still studying the alpha.  
  “Did Kryoz say how long it would take?” I asked softly.
   Mini looked up at me with vaguely baffled and uncertain eyes, his irises pulsing with fear. I saw a brief look of anger and regret pass his face as he turned away again.
  “He said he wasn’t sure." Mini admitted, albeit somewhat reluctantly. "I’m worried… For many reasons. And, it would be nice to go into town but, even without my issues with Tyler, it would be hard to go without being noticed. You know what happened last time.”
   I recoiled slightly from the memory. Honestly, I had forgotten about the incident with the humans but it only made sense that Mini hadn’t. He was very aware of what other people thought of him.
  "We would protect you.” I reassured him with an apologetic look as I walked closer to sling my arm around his shoulders. “It’s not like many of the humans are up this late anyway. I don’t think it’ll take very long to get what we need either.”
   Mini reached an arm around my waist and squeezed me gently. He still looked exhausted, but I could tell the contact was already helping him. A small smile touched his lips before it disappeared once more.
  “I know. I just don’t feel up to it at the moment. Plus, I need to wait to talk to Tyler… alone.” Mini pointed out with an ambivalent expression. I rubbed his shoulder comfortingly and sighed.
  “I can respect that…” In an undertone, I murmured, “Just don’t get too lost in your head Craig. We want you to be healthy… Physically,” I let go of him long enough to point at his chest, “And mentally.” I finished with a gentle tap on his cheek.
   He nodded and smiled sweetly. “I know.”
   “Good.” I ruffled his hair slightly and patted him on the back. “As long as you know. Take your time while we’re gone. I know you and Wildcat could use it. I'll see you two nerds later.”
  I chuckled as Mini gave me a scandalized look. A gentle huff of laughter and a quiet “Thank you” followed me out of the kitchen as I headed outside to meet the others.
  Vanoss stood the furthest from the front door, looking down at his phone in his human form. Marcel's white pelt shone silver under the dim moon light a few feet away, its color accentuated by the fluorescent green and purple stripes pulsing through his fur. Scotty was nothing but a shadow as he circled the stocky tiger on silent paws. Brian sat observing the two demons as they staged a mock fight, his brown and black hair rippling with excitement.
   I shifted into my werecat form as well, only mildly unsettled by the snapping of bones that echoed through my ears. Even though I preferred slow shifting, I sometimes wondered what it would be like to shift within seconds like a shapeshifter. Slow shifting was less painful though and I relished in the sensations that my new skin brought as my transformation finished. I spent a moment admiring the dirt between my claws before turning my attention to Vanoss.
   As expected, the alpha was watching me with a patient expression on his face. Once I made eye contact with him, there was a loud click and suddenly everyone was at attention. Evan scanned our faces individually before nodding in approval.
   “Alright! Is everyone ready?” He asked. There was one unified click of affirmation before Evan began his own transformation.
   When I shifted, I never thought of myself as graceful or poised when I finally landed on all fours, but Evan made his shift look almost majestic. The way the golden fur of his leopard form slipped out and his eyes burned brighter as they shifted to accommodate his shift was something straight out of a movie. Of course, I would never say it out loud but I knew the others were thinking something along the same lines as they let out small huffs of appreciation or amusement.
  Once his paws touched the ground, Evan shook himself and set off at the head of the group with the rest of us following close behind. I fell into step next to Brian as the group trailed out into the forest.
   “Well hello there gorgeous.” The werecat rumbled seductively, his spotted tail gently flicking my shoulder.
   I rolled my eyes and followed Marcel’s fluorescent purple-green tail through the bushes.
Notes:
So, I hope you guys enjoyed. Some notes for this chapter: On the topic of subgenders: As stated in the notes at the beginning of the chapter, subgenders were made in a laboratory by humans who wish to undermine the influence of the demons in their world. This means that, not only are they studying demons and figuring out how to kill them, they are also trying to take away every demon's rationale and logic by making them dependent on specific things, like sex. By definition, sub genders are demons who are hard wired for reproduction and, therefore, must find a mate in order to avoid going insane (Insanity being defined by losing all sense of humanity and thought which turns demons into slaughterers of entire civilizations in most cases). In a way, by creating subgenders, the humans have turned those demons into a mutilated form of livestock, animals unable to think critically and retaliate against their captors. Of course, the process isn't complete so sub genders can still think for themselves and they only have rare moments where they can't control their instincts (i.e. during ruts and heats). This is the history of how subs were created.
On a less serious note, I want to address the phrase "all cat and no claws". When Tyler says this, he is referring to his mind. The term "no claws", as used in this phrase, has no relation to his physical claws. Essentially, this phrase means that, by giving up his body to the demon inside, he's lost all intelligence and rationality and therefore has "no claws" to defend himself. It's a common saying among felines. Little fun fact for you guys~
Thank you for reading ♥
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unholyhelbiglinked · 5 years
Text
Camp Beaverbrook | 012
CHECK OUT THE STORY FROM THE START
Hey Dad,
I bet you’re soaking up the rays, huh? It’s not really so sunny here anymore. There’s been a lot of rain and it’s about to put Beca out of a job. Gail wouldn’t do that, though. I don’t know why I’m talking about the weather. I feel like that’s the default thing to write about when you’ve got a lot on your mind. A lot of people have picked up their kids. There are still a few left… their parents are away abroad or on a cruise.
Love you lots,
Chloe.
The bathroom had an abrasive edge, the lights buzzing from the amount of artificial vision in pushed out. It was almost worse than the flies, the incessant nagging from little insects that would whizz by her ear in the heat of the day. This type of hum was consistent and transported her somewhere else.
It was like the rest stop that her parents had pulled up to on the way here: the milling scent of lavender tried to compensate for the overbearing one of bleach. The tiles were white, overbearingly so. Puke colored stalls were empty, and the mirrors were rusted at the edges, but it was a bathroom. An instant hood of chilled air that brought her back to a distorted reality.
Her sob echoed off the walls as her fingers gripped blindly at the white sink. They left little red marks where the blood hadn’t dried entirely, and she cursed herself for crying in the first place. Aubrey had been stabbed, had been so crudely attacked in the shower. All she had done was warn Gail like Paul Revere himself.
Chloe’s clothes were still damp and the sterile air bit away at them.
“sack up,” She reminded herself, digging her nails into the porcelain. Her knuckles turned white under the sheen of dried rust. It was like when she was learning how to drive. Her father told her to relax and let the car do most of the work, but Chloe still found her fingers aching at the end of every lesson. She never grew comfortable. “You’re okay. This is okay.”
Chloe would have clenched her eyes shut too if it would help. But it didn’t’.
Each time she did the image came back to her in flashes. The slick black dirt that was caked around Jane’s body looked like a hand of Gaea had reached up and palmed her with little consequence. She had frozen at some point during the night- eyes fogged over and gray. The rain had soaked through her camp shirt and the mud swam around her like clay.
She decided not to close her eyes often after that. Instead, she stared up at the ceiling and listened to the even breath of Beca sleeping across the room. It was consistent and safe. If she could hear that, then it would be okay. Eventually, she would lull into a fit of rest when the sun barely began to rise, and her cabin mate stirred herself.
Sometimes neither of them slept, just listened to the trees shift against the wind in the darkness that surrounded the cabin. Chloe tried not to look out the windows, either. Only the ceiling. A little groove in the wood that was darker than the rest.
The door had creaky hinges, shrieking like an animal that just needed to be put out of its misery. Chloe straightened up and sniffed, tempted to run her fingers under her eyes to catch the tears, but it would have been worse if she did. She could bear the crying, it was the streaks of red war paint that would undo her.  
Her eyes were dull against the harsh lighting but flashed towards the mirror, all intent tied into ducking away, scrubbing the blood from her hands and sheepishly heading back to her cabin with nothing more to do. Instead, she’s confronted with Beca. Beca Mitchel of all people.
Chloe’s heart was already singing a song of despair, but at the sight of the woman that she had pinned over for most of the summer, it picked up its speed. She wasn’t sure if the growing ache was a good or a bad thing. It wasn’t her choice to make, it seemed.
A ghastly purple welt was against the side of her cheek, stretching its darkened hands up towards her eye, like flowers begging for the taste of the sun. There was blood. Fresher than that of what was spilled against her hands. She averted her gaze for a moment, struggling to collect herself in the presence of the water instructor.
“Chloe, are you bleeding?” Beca asked.
“Not my blood.” Chloe Said.
Chloe wished that the same could be said about Beca, but it couldn’t be. That wasn’t a wound from just tripping and falling. This was something deliberate and it made a certain type of heat lick at her jaw with a melting poison.
“Did someone hurt you?” She asked, turning around as she kept her hands balanced on the sink, palms resting on the cold edge.
“Aubrey,” Beca scoffed. She shook her head and grasped hungrily at a length of towel that had been dangling. She pumped the contraption twice more before flicking on the sink. “Man, I knew she was unhinged but this?”
Beca submerged the brown paper under the water until it darkened. Chloe mulled over her thoughts, turning back to the sink as she tried to scrub away the blood that was wedged under her nails. It was all so natural, so practiced when she would run away giggling with a group of girls at a dance in an auditorium.
“She hit you, then?” Chloe chanced a stare before going back to her task “Did you swing back?”
“Of course not. She was clearly hurt.”
Beca was a better woman than she would have been. It took a lot to push against Chloe before she finally shoved back. But Aubrey had landed a clean punch and it took resistance to not pull away and administer one herself. She couldn’t’ tell if Beca was angry at the manic actions or if she was still in shock. She simply flinched away as she pressed the cool towel against the buzzing wound.
Chloe shut off the running water and braced herself against the sink. She leaned into it, letting both hands rest on either side. “I found her this morning in the showers. Someone had attacked her. Their knife hit her shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to hurt her too much, but she… I don’t know why I’m making excuses for her.”
“Aubrey Posen thinks I’m a killer.”
Beca shifted the towel, letting it lower. She still had an angry crimson flushing her cheek. Chloe gently took the object and lifted her chin. Beca’s midnight eyes hardened before she drew in a breath and moved onto the sink, her ankles crossing automatically. Chloe’s mother used to do this when she was stung by a bee, or when she had fallen against pavement.
“It’s why she punched me- Ow!” Beca hissed as Chloe lilted her head to the side and dabbed the wound with a light touch. “Why she cornered me in the mess hall too… I let her have it though, you know? She’s never gotten violent before. Just thinly veiled threats. Today was different.”
Chloe swallowed roughly. She dropped the towel into the trashcan and let out a deep breath. She found herself using the sink as support once more. Her palms were on either side of Beca and a question bit at her lips.
“You think I’m one too, don’t you?” The younger woman averted her gaze. She swallowed roughly and fought back the urge to kick her feet back and forth. Her lip was wedged between her teeth and her breath was hot against Chloe’s cheek. She still craved the contact, even more in this frigid bathroom.
“No, I don’t think that.” She whispered. “Things are complicated right now. Aubrey likes to point fingers and make sense of things. She always has. You’re new, her first choice.”
“And I vanish a lot?”
“And you vanish a lot.”
Chloe cracked a smile, glancing up from her near leaning position. Beca was staring at the crooked painting of flowers on the wall. They were roses, three of them dawned in red. The petals were wilting but they still sat up straight in their vase.
“When I was at home, I got into some trouble.” She explained, voice little more than a whimper. “Nothing too bad. Breaking and entering, tagging. Stuff like that… I never actually hurt anyone.”
The taller girl nodded, her eyes softening. They had been here for close to a month and a half and nothing about Beca’s demeanor had shifted. She would scowl over her breakfast cereal and silently drink her beer at the end of the logs around the campfire, the flames shading her face.
“They caught me tagging some old factory that’s not even in use anymore. But it was enough for an arrest, my third one with charges. I uh… They gave me two options. Tread Lock and here.”
“The Detention center?” Chloe’s eyes widened.
“Yes, the Detention center.”
Chloe rolled her eyes but kept quiet, staring at the woman in front of her. Beca smelled like the lake, but not in a bad way. It was less of the muddy bottom and more like the way the sun reflected off of it on good days. Today wasn’t a good day, though.
“I chose here, and they assigned me with a detention officer. Wilkens… he’s not a terrible guy, just rough around the edges. We have to meet a couple times a week to fill out paperwork you know? All that legal stuff. He likes to come up here for Gail now, I’m sure.” Beca’s throat seemed to audibly tighten. “But with all this stuff, finding Jane, and Aubrey decking me square in the jaw, I don’t think finishing out my time here is an option anymore.”
“Beca,”
“No, Chloe.” She said, chest quivering. “I put myself here. I’m the one that broke into those properties and spray painted those walls. That, I will own up for. But murdering a sweet innocent girl? That’s not me Chloe, that’s not-“
Beca shuddered as tears dripped from her pristine midnight eyes. Her head hung low as she brought her hand up to her nose and squeezed the bridge. Chloe wrapped her tight. She held her close, sharing the sound of her heartbeat with another.
“Jane was a good person.” Beca swallowed dryly, her words vibrated against the edge of Chloe’s throat as she pulled back and rubbed the base of her nose against her arm. Her nose was stuffed, and her eyes were red. “The first week, she didn’t’ want to get into the water at all. She just wanted to read… read this, this book about flowers and a basement?”
“Flowers in the attic, yeah. It was Emily’s.” There was a certain fondness in her glossed over eyes.
“I got her to get in the water though, you know? And I think she actually enjoyed it. Or she was just really good at faking the whole thing.”
Beca made a noise that was a mix between a laugh and a heavy sigh, Chloe’s cold fingers grasped at her chin as she used her thumb to rub away the tears on the girl’s cheek. “I didn’t’ kill her Chloe.” She repeated, “I didn’t kill her.”
“I know,” She tucked a strand of coffee hair behind Beca’s ear, pressing her forehead against her own. “I believe you.”
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prettymuchimagines · 6 years
Text
celebration of life [b.a]
Word count: 1.876 masterlist 
You might as well as crawl in a hole because that’s how your day has gone so far. Not sure of the reason that caused it to be so terrible, but it was definitely something. It could’ve been the whole weekend that you spent in Provo, Utah.
THURSDAY
Your grandpa had passed away on Monday and you were expected to attend the visitation and funeral. So you had to call in for a sub to cover your shift for Friday through Monday. 
Sprawled out like a starfish over your bed, you think about all the clothes you need to pack for your trip. Leaning over to reach into the drawer of your bedside table, you pull out a notepad and pen. 
What to Pack: two black dresses, heels, sweatpants, t-shirt, iPhone, charger, wallet, makeup, curling iron, bra, underwear, headphones, toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, glasses, hair ties, coat, beanie, blanket, pillow.
Exhausted by the list you made, you begin to draw small flowers all over the pad of paper. You glance over at the clock and notice it’s only been three minutes since you’ve last looked for the time. Deciding that your boyfriend would be on a break right now from work, you walk out on your balcony while dialing his number on your brand new iPhone X. 
Five rings later you hear his voice. “Hey Brand-” you say excitedly, to hear a voice. “Oh, hey Edwin. He’s busy isn’t he?”
Edwin lets out a sigh as he replies to your question. “I’m sorry y/n he won’t stop until he gets the routine perfect. Want me to tell him you need to talk to him? I’m sure he’d stop to chat with you.”
“No, don’t bother him. Once he’s free just tell him that I called. It’s not important.” With that you hang up the phone and sit on the silver weaved chair, hands resting under your chin while your elbows are on your legs. 
You can’t help but think about how you wish Brandon could come with you on this trip. Although you know he’d drop everything to come, you don’t want him to give up work for a funeral for a person he’s never met. 
Eventually you have packed up a bag or two, loaded the car and fell asleep on the couch in the living room. You were way too tired to walk up the stairs and down the hall to the cozy mattress covered with blankets. 
FRIDAY
Loud beeping blares across your house from the kitchen. Your iPhone is buzzing on the counter while Open Arms plays over the speaker, indicating it was time for you to wake up.
Slowly you trudge over to the kitchen like a zombie, eyes closed as you search for the phone as if you were blind. After what feels like ten minutes of the song playing, you get it silenced. 
An hour later, you’re dressed and filled with the remaining amount of Captain Crunch from your pantry. Double checking your house for all the items you'll need for the trip, you glance at the phone to find you’ve got no missed calls. 
Getting into your car, pulling out of the drive you decide to try Brandon again. 
“Hey beautiful. You’re up really early.”
You smile to yourself, driving down the road. “I’m leaving for a trip for 4 days, so that’s why I’m up early.”
“Where are you going?”
“Grandpa’s funeral.” 
“Oh honey..... I’m so sorry. You need some company and support?”
“Babe I am driving there, plus you have loads of work to get finished. I’ll be fine.”
“How long of a drive is it?”
“Nine hours.”
You hear him sigh and stay silent for a few seconds. “Y/n I care about you more than my work. Come by and I’ll be ready to go with you.”
Shaking your head as you reply, “Brandon, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go by myself. I love you, bye.”
With that you hang up and begin the 9 hour drive to Provo, Utah.
Pulling into the hotel parking lot at 8pm, your eyes are drooping low and yawns become longer after each one. Looking over at the cups in your car, there are 3 empty Starbucks coffee cups. None of the caffeine has worked, leaving you tired and miserable. 
All the joints in your body feel stiff and sore. It’s currently been raining for the past 4 hours so heavily, using an umbrella doesn’t even prevent you from getting wet. 
Successfully, you check into your hotel room and bring the luggage into the room. There sits a bouquet of roses with a note, bottle of moscato wine, and chocolate chip cookies. 
Dearest y/n, get some rest and relax. I love you so much and wish I was with you right now. Glad you made it safe and I can’t wait to see you when you get back. All my love, Brandon. 
SATURDAY
Today was the visitation with so many family members, it’s hard to keep track of how you are related to all of them. Your brothers were on their way today, so they’d be missing the visitation but present for the funeral the next day. 
“My how you have grown!” an elderly woman walks towards you. 
“Hi...” you say kindly but hesitantly. 
“I knew your mom and dad when they were your age. I’m your Aunt Jaclyn.”
Your mood grows worse, saddened by the thought of your parents. They passed away in a car crash with you 7 years ago. Your mom passed away at the scene of the crime, your dad not making it successfully through surgery. You however, were able to walk away with a broken rib and a few bruises. Nothing that time couldn’t heal, but your heart for sure would remain broken for years to come. 
“Honey, I’m so sorry.” your Aunt reaches for your shoulder.
You turn your body, dogging her effort to comfort you for bringing up your parents. Shaking your head, you walk outside and dial a number. You stay silent when you hear his voice answer the call.
“What’s wrong sweetie?”
You stand there, freezing cold in the sleeveless dress with heels in the rain. Even though you’re under the awning, you still get hit with a little bit of rain.
“I can’t even talk to these people. They bring up mom and dad, and I---”
“Take deep breaths. You're going to be alright. I knew you’d be worried so I bought a ticket and I’m at the airport, heading your way now.”
“You didn’t have to come B. You have so much work.”
“Y/n stop.” he raises his voice at you a bit. “I’m always going to put you first and no one will ever tell me that I have to choose work over you, because I will always choose the latter. You’re my everything. Let me be there for you.”
“I love you Brandon.” Eyes are closed as you lean against the brick exterior of the funeral home. 
“I love you too Y/n. I’ll be there in about five minutes.” He says reassuring you, letting you hang up the phone when you’re ready.”
People keep giving you hugs, teary eyed as they tell you how sorry they are for your loss. You’ve realized how much water your eyes can hold, you’ve been silently crying tears the entire time. No matter how much you wanted to run out and not come back, because the pain was too much to endure - you didn’t. The man of your dreams came to your rescue, knowing you needed him to be there with you. He continues to squeeze your hand or rubs your lower back to let you know he’s still there. 
“You’re so beautiful.” 
He kisses your cheek, hand on your leg as you drive back to the hotel. You remain silent, afraid you’d begin crying all over again if you even spoke a syllable. Replying to Brandon, you shake your head while focusing on driving. 
“I got my bags, you don’t need to carry them for me.” Reaching for his bags out of your hands, taking them in one hand and holding yours in the other.
Quietly you two walk into the lobby, into the elevator to the 15th floor and down the hall to room 528. You place the navy blue card against the reader above the door knob, waiting for the green LED light to grant you access to your room.
“I see you’ve enjoyed the wine and cookies.” he mentions with a smirk, as he begins to untie his periwinkle pin striped tie. 
Sliding your heels off, along with the zipper down your back. You remove the dark clothing in exchange for an oversized t-shirt that you stole from Brandon and a pair of your running shorts. 
He discards his white button up shirt, black dress pants, and belt. Putting on sweatpants and a loose-fitted shirt. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ve had a long day. I’ll take you out to breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“But they have a free breakfast here.” You softly say, laying down with closed eyes as you begin to drift off to sleep.
“I know but I want to treat my princess to a breakfast.” 
“I can’t argue with that.” you smile, moving closer into your boyfriends arms as you both fall asleep. 
SUNDAY
Today was a blur. Your brother made it in safely from Illinois and met you at the home for the funeral service. Brandon took you out to a much needed breakfast. The oatmeal the hotel served you wasn’t giving you enough energy for the day. Many people came to the service this morning, which made it seem go slower for some reason. 
Brandon was with you the entire time, not leaving your side. You didn’t mind it because if you were being honest, you wanted him to stay with you the whole time. You didn’t want to be alone during this weekend. 
Your brother came just for the service and then had to head back home. His wife was very pregnant and she couldn’t fly being 8 months pregnant. Being an over-worried dad-to-be, he wanted to get back home to her incase of anything that would happen in his absence. 
Brandon wouldn’t discuss with you about driving arrangements. He told you he would drive while you could relax. Having him in the car made it more enjoyable and kept you awake during the nine hours. Stopping at small local diners, getting some souvenirs, and taking the long way with scenic views. You didn’t mind that the two of you made it back to Los Angeles in 13 hours. The time you spent in his company was well worth the extra hours. 
Wanting to take a day to de-brief from all the events the weekend held, you took Monday off. He’s awake already, making your coffee in the kitchen with your usual cereal of Berries Only Captain Crunch. 
“Thank you again for coming out. You made it much easier to get through.”
“I’d do anything for you. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m madly in love with you y/n and I plan to be by your side for the rest of our lives.”
SOOOO that is the end of this one shot. Let me know what you think about this!! Really enjoyed writing it as it aimed close to the heart. My grandpa passed away five years ago the day before Valentine’s Day and my grandma passed the same day as him this year. It’s been a rough week/weekend with long distances to travel, seeing family I haven’t seen in forever, and all the emotions that are tied into celebrating the life of a loved one. 
Anyways, this is what I wrote about since I really was not in a mood to deal with anything today from the lack of sleep and being drained emotionally. 
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fabermemorialrink · 7 years
Text
some mistake, part 8
First part of chapter three! Also haha uh this is the last completed section of this fic, so I’m just going to leave it here for a while. I’m sorry!!! The next part is like 80% done, but I feel like this is a cleaner break point, because things turn weird again soon. But who knows! Maybe I’ll get it together for once and hammer out the rest! Anyway, thanks a million to all you beautiful people for reading!! You folks are the best.  ♥ ♥
The first thing Derek does after dumping his bag in the new room he now shares with C is take off for the rink, to see if the guys are around. Chowder wasn't in their room, which figures, since he's been back for a few days already, but neither is he in the lobby with Tango and the rest of the new sophomores, or lying in the grass with Rans and Holtzy in the spot Shitty and Johnson claimed for them when Derek was a wee, impressionable freshman.
Ford, who’s sporting a new pair of glasses and demolishing Whiskey in a game of Guess Who, tells him Chowder went to visit a townie friend, and Derek almost crashes through the lobby doors in his hurry to get to the woods. C must already be chilling with Dex, probably gorging themselves on Bitty’s pie or skipping rocks with Lardo and Tater, which would kinda suck since Derek doesn’t know how to find his way in there alone. He waves a casual goodbye to the others as Holster reminds him about their first team breakfast tomorrow, and takes off. He hasn't seen either of his best friends for over two months.
To his surprise, they aren’t deep in the forest when he locates them. They're perched on a low, thick branch near Derek’s hollow, swinging their feet and eating the syrupy ice pops that the nearby convenience mart sells by the box. Chowder’s lips are stained purple; he grins around the plastic tube dangling from his mouth, bringing up one hand to shield himself as Dex flicks red droplets of melted cherry popsicle at his face.
“Don't even think about it-”
“Thought you liked my freckles, C. Don’t you want to match?” Dex snaps his tube forward, spraying more cherry syrup in Chowder’s direction.
“Not with you, goblin man,” Chowder whines, dodging and ducking like he’s in the Matrix. He loses balance, flailing as he begins tipping backwards. Dex tries to save him, grabbing onto C’s sleeve as he topples backwards off the branch, but only manages to get himself dragged down too. They land in a squawking mess of limbs.
Derek whistles in appreciation, strolling up to them while they thrash around like beached squids. “I can’t believe you just let Chowder die,” he tsks.
“Yeah, what the hell! Dropping the ball, Dex.”
“Maybe if the ball had laid off on bag nachos for the summer I wouldn’t have dropped him.”
“Hey, fuck you,” Chowder laughs, slapping his arm across Dex’s chest. “My body is a temple, and I can fill it with twelve hundred bags of Fritos if I want.”
“Christ, Fritos are revolting, C. Nursey, teach this boy something about nutrition, would you?” Dex asks, staring upside down through his lashes at Derek, who grins down at him.
“You eat pie for dinner! Every day!” Chowder yells.
“What’s that? You loathe Bitty’s pies? You never want to taste another one again in your life? I dunno, this’ll really break his heart, but if you really feel that strongly about it…”
Chowder starts with a wail that warps into a battle cry as he leaps at Dex, who tries unsuccessfully to roll away. The noise he makes when C sinks his nails into his hips is unreal; if Derek ignores the stray laughter, it sounds like he’s being dragged to hell.
“Alright, break it up boys, break it up,” Derek says as Chowder begins a tickle offensive and Dex’s leg twitches like he might kick someone’s teeth in by accident. He pushes his way in between the two of them and nudges Dex away with a foot before sitting himself on top of Chowder’s ass, pinning him in place. Chowder kicks his legs, trying to oust Derek from his spot, but gives up, lying defeated in the underbrush.
“This is blatant favoritism,” Chowder grumbles. “I don’t see you crushing Dex with your steel quads.”
“Hey, if we’re talking favoritism, at least Dex lets you into the trees with him.” Every time Derek asks Dex to join him, Dex just flips him the bird and circles the tree like an unhinged coyote.
“That’s because I don’t want you to break your damn neck, you dipstick,” Dex says as he finally crawls off the ground. “And you’re only like 5’ 9”, so catching you is easier than-” He stops short when Derek stands. Derek, who after two years can look him in the eye without tilting his head upward. For some reason, though, he stares half a minute longer, the skin around his neck starting to grow a heated pink. “When the fuck did you get so- so,” and he waves his hand distractedly around Derek’s general person, “uh, tall?” The word falls from his lips like he intended to say something else, and he claps his mouth shut.
“Well, Dex, it was early on the morn of July 11th when I woke crunched up in my tiny bed like a giant in the land of the-”
“Alright, smartass, I get it.” He backs away from Derek, still rosy and flustered, and busies himself with helping Chowder off the ground.
When they're all finally situated, Derek reveals the gifts he brought back with him. The first item he throws in their direction is a humongous bag of cotton candy, which makes them both brighten to an unholy level.
“Didn't you just have popsicles?” he asks dubiously as Dex parcels out a clump to Chowder and lets a strand of the spun sugar dissolve on his tongue.
“Pssshh,” Chowder says.
“Aight, then hook me up too,” Derek says. He opens up his mouth expectantly as Dex reaches out to give him a handful. Reluctantly, Dex pushes the cotton candy past his lips, to rest on his tongue, then snatches his hand back, turning colors again. Super weird.
But Derek leaves him be, dividing up the rest of his souvenirs. Gloves and a shark-shaped tea infuser for C; a scarf and tiny lobster keychain for Dex.
“Trying to buy our affection again, Nursey?” Chowder teases after they thank him.
“Nah, you know I just notice stuff that reminds me of you guys,” Derek says casually. Dex gets awkward about accepting gifts that aren't food, having hang-ups about being indebted to people and wasting money, but Derek has slowly managed to convince him that none of these gifts carry any burden or expectation. He tries to keep them less expensive and more thoughtful, in order to make things easier for his friends.
“Crustaceans remind you of me,” is all Dex comments on, face unsure if it's amused or exasperated, and Derek breaks into a grin.
“Of course they do! Orange and crabby.”
Dex looks like he's about to try and put him in a headlock, so Derek dumps the rest of the bag at his feet. It’s a collection of books that Dex expressed interest in reading; from the surprised delight on his face when he peeks inside, Derek’s hit the mark.
“They're for you to keep, though I wrote in the margins of some, and they're all a little beat up- not that you don't deserve new books,” and now he's spinning in circles, trying to explain this without coming off as a cheap douchebag, “but I thought maybe you'd like to see what I thought? I mean, obviously you'll form your own opinions, but-”
“Nursey, stop. They're great. Thanks, for everything,” Dex says, warmth lacing his tone as he thumbs down the corner of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. His eyes flicker up to meet Derek’s, and they share a smile, leaving Derek feeling somewhere in between bizarre and normal.
He tries to forget about it, but Dex remains somewhat squirrely for the rest of the day, culminating in a really awkward clasp/hug when they depart for the evening. Chowder pulls Dex in for a hug, which runs smoothly as usual, but Derek holds his arms out until Dex brings it in and receives an uncomfortable chest-bump half-hug combo that fizzles out when they pull apart and Dex realizes he’s looking directly into Derek’s eyes. He scuttles back into the woods with a hasty goodbye, power-walking away with his arms full of books, leaving Derek to make baffled faces at Chowder on their walk home.
Derek is still stewing over it by tomorrow morning at team breakfast, when he's finally awake enough to ask Chowder what the deal was with yesterday.
“Dex is just worked up ‘cause you got taller and hotter over the summer!” Chowder tells him while inhaling cheerios. Derek almost stabs himself in the gums with his fork.
There were enough keywords in that sentence to grab Holster’s attention from all the way down the table, and he launches out of his seat to accost Derek while he chokes on his homefries.
"Nursey. Nurse. Derek, my bro, my precious d-man hatchling, what delightful news is this?!" Holster bellows, almost knocking Ollie out of his spot as he collides with the bench next to Derek. The plate of pancakes flies across the table like a frisbee, stopped only by Ford's quick hand, trained, no doubt, by hours and hours of expertly managing unruly wild-eyed theater kids.
Derek quits choking long enough to splutter out, "It's nothing, just Chowder being-"
"Nothing?!" comes the outraged rallying cry from Ransom, who crosses from the omelette station to their table in three long graceful bounds. He launches his plate aside to squeeze in next to Holster, which triggers a domino effect and squishes Whiskey to the very edge of the bench. The sophomore continues valiantly eating his toast as if he doesn’t have only half his butt on a solid surface.
"Sounds like way more than nothing to us!"
"Sounds like someone's getting a head start on winter formal, is what I'm thinking, Holtzy." Ransom says, looping his arm around Derek's shoulders and staring him down with his most intense co-captain stare.
"It sure does, bro."
Derek rips his eyes away from Ransom's hypnotic stare long enough to direct his glare at turncoat Christopher Chow, who continues smiling and vacuuming up cereal like he didn't just bodily shove Derek under several two-hundred pound buses. He barely has any idea of what's happening right now, and certainly isn't prepared to defend himself from his captains’ onslaught of (un)helpful support.
"Well, I dunno if he can go to formal," Chowder says, looking apologetic even as he throws gasoline onto the flames. "He doesn't go here, and he’s probably not big on parties. But I think Nursey should ask anyway!" Holster lights up like a Hanukkah candle and stumbles back off the bench in order to squish in on Derek's other side instead, leaving him flanked by both meddling seniors.
“Like always, actual genius C. Chow is completely right. You miss 100% of the shots, etcetera, you know the rest. If you need help asking-”
“We got your back. Nursey, you know we’re here for you,” Ransom says gravely.
“Yeah, of course. Thanks guys, but I'm, uh. I'm gonna sleep on it first.”
“Working up to it, eh? Well, you just let us know.” Rans claps him on the arm and starts tearing into his omelette; Holster watches Derek for half a minute more with two eggs bunched up in his cheeks, but also slaps him on the back eventually, and returns his attention to the table conversation.
Derek pointedly refuses eye contact with Chowder, who huffs a bit, and concentrates on slathering butter on his toast while he mulls everything over. Was Chowder right about yesterday?
Dex and Derek...they sort of joke around about it sometimes. Fake-flirting, pet names – Derek instigates it most times, just to see the glowing flush that overtakes Dex’s skin and the flash of teeth he shows when he snipes back. But when Dex isn't too busy rolling his eyes right out of their sockets he plays along, calling Derek ‘angel face’ and ‘pumpkin’ and ‘sugarplum’. It's just a harmless thing they do. It never means anything.
But yesterday, Dex had been genuinely flustered, and it makes Derek feel restless with questions.
“C. Chowder. Chris,” he hisses, resorting to kicking Chowder under the table until he stops talking to Tango about video games.
“Derek,” Chowder says, beaming, as he literally rips a banana in half. He always eats fruit in these weird-ass ways that Derek has chosen to accept as one of his few shortcomings. “What’s up?”
“Yesterday, with Dex...was he really- do you think he thinks that I’m-” Chowder chews and nods encouragingly while Derek flounders for words. He gives up and winds up demanding, “Am I hot now?”
“Like, objectively? You were always cute, in this quiet way, right? But I dunno, you really grew into your own over the summer,” Chowder says thoughtfully. He places his hand delicately to his chest and scrounges up a parental sigh. “Guess my boy’s finally growing up!”
“Four months younger than you, Christopher.” Chowder just simpers at him, some stray banana mush falling off his cheek. “I don’t feel different. I mean, yeah, we’re the same height now, but the other stuff-”
“Like I said, you were always cute! But you look more...grown-up now? And it really works for you, buddy! And it really really works for Dex, haha.” At Derek’s look of pure, overwhelmed disbelief, Chowder blinks, then takes pity on him, offering a real smile. “Nursey. Don’t tell me this is a surprise to you. He, like, always calls you pretty.”
“Yeah, but that’s-”
Chowder shakes his head as he folds his two banana peels into a stack. “Just a joke? You don’t see the way he looks at you sometimes; I know you’re besties and all, but sometimes he- how do I put this. He lingers? You’ll say something funny, or interesting, and he kind of traces your face with his eyes. And sometimes it’s like he’s studying for a test he needs to pass. Whoa, now I’m getting poetic, but seriously. He can be kind of intense. Pay attention next time, and you’ll see.”
Derek doesn’t need to wait until next time. He's already replaying memories, sifting through for any evidence that what Chowder is saying is true. It doesn't help that Dex spends a lot of time being intense about one thing or another, but pieces start to fit together, moments coming into clarity as Derek thinks about them longer. The way Dex’s amber eyes turn dark and pensive sometimes when he looks over at Derek, an unnamed heaviness passing between them. How the corner of his mouth unfolds into the curve of a smile on occasion, even when Derek isn't particularly amusing. How serious he sounds when he gives out a rare, unprompted compliment.
Derek doesn’t know what to do with this information. He needs more time to process it, so he turns his attention to the other matter that’s come to mind. “How do you see all of this stuff? It sounds obvious when you point it out, but it’s like I’ve been blind this whole time.”
“I just notice things. About you guys, about the team. I like watching people, seeing how they move and think. Maybe it’s a goalie thing?” he laughs.
“No, I get it. But- you’re a good friend, Chowder,” Derek tells him, because Derek likes people-watching too, but Chowder gets him and Dex both. He knows so much more about the people around him than he'll probably ever get credit for.
“Aw, thanks! You’re a good friend too. My question, though, is what are you gonna do about this? Not that you have to do anything! I just don’t want things to be weird.”
“I. Don’t know?” Derek says helplessly. “It’s flattering, but he’s my best friend, and I don’t- I’m not sure if either of us want anything else? It might not even mean anything; like, I’ve always thought Dex was cute, but that doesn’t mean-”
That doesn’t necessarily mean Derek wants to pursue a relationship with him. Dex is attractive, sure, but he's Derek’s best friend. Those two things don't necessarily make them romantically compatible. If Derek took the time to really consider it, could he honestly see him and Dex dating?
Could he imagine going with Dex to winter formal? Dex would probably hate it, grumbling about his two left feet, and the ridiculousness of hiring a DJ for a high school dance, and how preppy everyone looks. He'd chirp Derek for it too, while helping the hockey team demolish the refreshments table, but then compliment him later on some surprising detail like his choice of tie color or the way he's done his hair. Derek would wheedle until Dex agreed to a dance, the two of them swaying stupidly to a slow song, before Derek tries to put his dance lessons to good use. Dex could be convinced to stay for a few more songs, but they'd stay in the corner with the wallflowers, where the lights are dim and the white streamers hang in sweeping loops under silver and spangled balloons. They're about the same height now, broaching six feet, and Dex’s broad hand would rest heavy against Derek’s waist or shoulder, but it would probably link pretty perfectly with Derek’s own hand.
Could he imagine them going to the movies together, sitting in the back row of some noisy summer blockbuster and stealing overpriced raisinettes and nachos from each other? Dex would never spring for snacks, but he wouldn't be able to help himself from swiping food from Derek if Derek decided to be disgustingly extravagant and purchase five different boxes of chocolate. It would start innocently enough, Derek pressing caramels and junior mints into Dex’s hand each time he reached over, until his boxes were empty and he could trick Dex into holding hands with him the next time he reached.
Could he imagine trying to make dinner together? Or spending nights together in Derek and Chowder’s dorm room, Dex tucked in Derek’s away game sleeping bag on the floor next to them? They'd talk until morning about poetry and unsolved mysteries, stupid childhood mishaps and unimportant truths, and maybe when Chowder wakes up it’ll be to the sight of Dex curled up next to Derek on his bed (but he'll never tell).
Derek could take him to the amusement park with the team. Dex would probably like roller coasters like Ransom and Tango. Derek would force him to ride the teacups twenty times with him and Chowder, and drag him through the mirror house. He'd buy him funnel cake and corndogs and more cotton candy, fresh-spun and as pink as Dex's face would be if Derek tried to sit up next to him on the ferris wheel.
They could go explore the historical side of Boston, or tour the haunted houses of Salem, or drive east to Gloucester and Rockport to see the North Shore. They could roadtrip straight across to California, or to Niagara Falls, or to see the Grand Canyon – any of the places that Dex as said he'd like to visit someday.
Derek would take him home to Manhattan. Mama would love him, this prickly, weathered forest boy who she can feed and wrap in a cocoon of blankets. Mom would be more cautious, but dad would convince her, once they bonded over fleecing people in card games, and car maintenance and I Love Lucy. Dex would stay in the guest room, but Derek would sneak him into his room, where Dex would tease him about his choice in posters and the felt solar system mobile mom made for him when he was a baby, still hanging over his desk. They'd lie under Derek’s covers, listening to ATCQ and Run-D.M.C. before Derek gives him a rundown of the music of the last five years, since Dex doesn't know any songs more recent than the top of the charts from 2008.
He'd toss book after book from his shelf into Dex’s lap, recommending every single one despite all the protests. They would drag Derek’s comforter out to the balcony to watch the sunrise together, Dex leaning his head on Derek’s shoulder, his hair the same color as the sun-dyed sky brushing over Derek’s collarbone, and their hands tentatively linked together under the blanket.
Maybe by then Derek will have gathered up the nerves to kiss him.
...wait, hold up.
“Nursey, you in there?” Chowder asks gently as Derek lowers his forehead to rest on the table.
“Yeah, I’m here. Just need a minute to process some stuff,” he mumbles weakly back.
Dex would close his eyes, pale lashes fanning out to flutter against his cheeks in anticipation. Derek would lean in, his heart hammering in sixteenth notes, trying not to crush Dex’s fingers in his grasp. It would be soft, Derek thinks, though sometimes talking to Dex makes him feel like every part of him is burning, whether with frustration or fondness or amusement. They could kiss like a fistfight, but that first time, at least, would be gentle. As silly as it seems, Dex would probably taste like the pie du jour, and he would be warm – so warm and solid against Derek’s skin that he could ignite.
That’s how it would go, he thinks.
Okay, okay, cool cool cool. So he wants to date Dex. This isn’t exactly new; he’s always wanted to hang out with Dex outside of the woods, anyway, like besties do.
He also wants to kiss Dex, so there’s that. It's fine. So chill. Just the chillest.
“I think I might be fucked,” he finally tells Chowder, who nods sympathetically and gives him his glass of chocolate milk in solidarity.
“Like I said, you don’t have to do anything. But the possibility is there. Maybe you should take a chance.”
“Okay, I- uh. I’mma think it over a little longer.”
Chowder narrows his eyes. “Like a hundre-”
“Yeah, yep, like a hundred years longer. I don’t wanna mess everything all up?” Derek says, trying to express with his hands the breadth of this situation. “He’s really important to me, C. I can’t fuck this up.”
“No, I get it. Take your time. And when you figure it out, make sure to let my great-grandchildren know, yeah?”
Derek laughs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Sure thing, Chowder.”
He just needs time to sort it all out: his own feelings, Dex’s strange behavior and lingering looks, and that possibility of something more. He just needs a chance to work through this thing that feels so unexpected yet undeniable, before any more surprises come his way.
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massivedrickhead · 7 years
Text
One More Year: Chapter 30
I am so immensely sorry it has taken me so long to update. I have had a really stressful month, and I spent a large part of it pretty unwell. I'm better now, but my life is still a bit stressful at the minute so I can't promise updates will be more frequent. I'm also not really happy with how this chapter turned out, but I needed to move the time forward so I hope you all don't hate it.
I have no right to beg for reviews but if you can find it in you to leave me one/like/reblog, I'll be super grateful.
fanfiction.net
I do not own Pitch Perfect or any of its characters.
Chapter 30
Beca watched nervously as her dad looked at the sheet of paper that had her final grades on it.
High school was effectively over, they just had prom and then graduation. Then a final summer together before everyone went off to college.
Everyone except Beca that is.
Her dad sighed quietly before he smiled.
"You passed," he said, looking up from the paper. "Good job, Becs."
Beca let out a shaky sigh of relief and hugged him. A few months ago, he would have chewed her out for grades like this, but now he was just happy she'd passed. Her grades weren't strong enough to go to Barden, but she didn't care about that. She was just relieved she'd get to graduate with all her friends next week.
"So, now we should talk about what happens next," he said. "I'm gonna give you a year to figure out what you want to do. You don't have to get a job, but you can if you want to. You can work on your music or try and get an internship, or whatever you want. But don't waste it. At the end of the year, you'll either have a job, or you'll be applying for college." Beca opened her mouth to protest but her dad cut her off. "I know you don't want to go to college, but I don't want you to miss out on this opportunity. Deal?"
"Okay," Beca said. "Deal."
"I'm proud of you," he said, hugging her again.
"Thanks," she said, looking down at her grades again. She had worked hard for this. They all had. And tonight they were going to celebrate.
"Are you gonna tell your Mom?" He asked.
"Um, yeah I guess so," she said. It still felt weird hearing him talk about her.
"You guys are still talking?"
"We text every now and then, yeah," Beca said.
"Good," he said with a smile. "So, what time do you want me out of the house for tonight?" Her dad asked, returning to his coffee and newspaper.
"You don't have to leave the house," she said, "but people are gonna start arriving by seven."
"No, no, I know when I'm not wanted," he said with a wink.
"You're still going to Sheila's for a few days?" She asked.
"That's the plan," he said.
"Aren't you tired of doing the long distance thing?" She asked, after a small silence.
He shrugged. "It won't be forever. And she's worth all the effort it takes." He looked at her. "Why?"
"No reason," she said. "You're not worried she's gonna meet someone else? Someone better?"
"I'm shocked that you'd think there is a better man alive than me," he said, acting offended.
Beca laughed and shook her head.
"I trust her," he said. "And she trusts me. And you should trust Chloe."
Beca looked up and he gave her a knowing smile. "I do trust her," she said. "I know she'd never cheat or anything. But she's going to college. She's going to meet so many new people. What if she meets someone she likes better than me?" She'd never planned on voicing these worries to her dad, but she hadn't been able to stop herself. As soon as she'd gotten the text that morning from Chloe telling her she had gotten into Barden, she'd started worrying.
"Look, I'm not going to tell you that that isn't a possibility, because it is. She's going to a new place with a lot of new people. She's going to make a lot of new friends and have a lot of new experiences," he said.
"You aren't helping," Beca said with a groan.
"But I know Chloe loves you," he said, ignoring her interruption. "She really loves you, and I know you love her. I have absolute faith that you will both be fine. And remember, she's going to the college I work at, so I can always convince her professors to set her so much work that she won't have time to socialise," he added with another wink.
Beca laughed again. "That would be great, thanks."
Later that night, all her friends were gathered in her den talking excitedly about the future.
Beca's music was playing low in the background as they all just sat and talked.
"This summer is going to have to be awesome," Jesse said, taking a drink of beer he'd gotten his older brother to buy him. "It's our last summer of freedom. Our last one together."
"Jeez, Jess, you make it sound like we're dying," Aubrey said.
"I'm just saying, it's all gonna change when we go to college," he said.
"I mean, we're all going to Barden, apart from Beca. It's not like we're all spread across the country," Stacie said.
"Or maybe you're just lamenting that you won't be able to drink your shitty beer in my den?" Beca asked.
"Well if it's so shitty then I'll have that bottle back," he said, reaching to take it away from her.
"No," Beca said, drinking. "It's mine now."
The others laughed before they fell quiet again, all of them thinking about what was coming.
"You really don't think anything will change?" Jesse asked, looking around the room.
Chloe, who had been relatively quiet all night, squeezed Beca's hand a little tighter. She was sitting with her head on Beca's shoulder, one hand holding Beca's, the other stroking up and down Beca's arm.
"I think everything will change," Beca said, looking down at hers and Chloe's hands. She could feel a lump forming in her throat but she ignored it. "And…" she cleared her throat. "I'm gonna miss you guys. I'm gonna miss this."
"That's why we make this summer count," Jesse said. "Right?"
"Right," Benji said, nodding his head in agreement.
The others started talking about what they should do over the summer, and Beca squeezed Chloe's hand.
"We'll have to take a lot more pictures. I'm gonna need to create a whole new photo wall in my dorm room," Chloe said.
"Then we should start right now," Beca said, pulling out her phone and taking a quick selfie of the two of them. "I'm gonna need you to fill every inch of your walls with photographs of me. Just so everyone who goes in your room knows the score."
Chloe laughed. "Do you want me to wear an 'I love Beca' t-shirt too?"
"I mean I assumed those were the only t-shirts you owned." Beca said, causing Chloe to laugh more. "At least I know what to get you for a going away present now."
"You're such a weirdo," Chloe said laughing. The pair were unaware that the rest of the room had gone quiet to listen to them. "I want to spend every day of the next few weeks with you," Chloe said.
"Then that's what we'll do," Beca replied.
And so they did.
They spent a lot of time as a big group, but at the end of every hangout Beca and Chloe would go home together. Sometimes they'd go back to Beca's, sometimes to Chloe's, but they never slept alone that whole summer.
They would spend all day with their friends, and all night with each other.
"Do you think we're making it harder by doing this?" Chloe asked one night as they lay together, half tangled in their sheets.
"What do you mean?" Beca asked, tucking a strand of hair behind Chloe's ear.
"We're so used to being together all the time, isn't it going to make it harder when we have to be apart?"
"Maybe," Beca said, feeling the familiar gut-punch she got whenever she thought of Chloe not being there. "But I'd definitely regret not spending every second I could with you."
"Me too," Chloe said, leaning in to kiss her.
Beca could honestly say that that summer with Chloe and her friends was the best time of her life. If she hadn't had the black cloud of everyone leaving looming over her, she would have described it as perfect.
But every happy moment was tinged with sadness that it was all about to change. That they were all about to leave her.
On their last night together, Beca had cried quietly, staring up at the ceiling while Chloe slept next to her.
All of Chloe's clothes and the things she was taking with her were packed in boxes in her room. Even some of the photos from her wall had gone. Placed in some box for Chloe to put up in her new room.
"Please don't cry," Chloe whispered, reaching up to brush a tear from her cheek.
"I don't want you to leave me," Beca replied, choking on her words.
Chloe closed her eyes and forced herself to keep it together. "I'm scared too," she said. "I'm scared that I won't be able to handle the work load. I'm scared I won't get into the Bellas. I'm scared my eating will fall apart again. But I'm most afraid that I'll have to do it all without you." A tear slid down her cheek. "But I know you'll still be there for me. I know I can call you at anytime, and I know I'll still see you most weekends."
"Of course I'll be there for you," Beca said, wiping her eyes. "I'll be there anytime, day or night."
"And I'll be there for you too. I promise. You're not going to lose me," Chloe said.
"I just… I'm going to miss seeing you everyday," Beca said. "I'm going to miss sleeping next to you, and I'm going to miss waking up with you. I love you so much."
"I'm going to miss you too," Chloe said. She pulled Beca into a hug and held her tightly, fighting back her own tears as she felt Beca sob against her. "I love you more than I can say." She kissed Beca on the top of the head. "We can do this. I know we can."
The next morning, both Beca and Chloe did their best not to cry.
Beca managed to make it through breakfast, but Chloe started halfway through her cereal at the same time as her Mom.
"She isn't moving to France," Johnny said, trying desperately to lighten the mood as his Mom's and Chloe's crying had set the twins off.
Beca kept it together as she loaded up the last of Chloe's boxes into her truck. She would be driving Chloe while Chloe's Mom and dad would follow them.
She almost lost it when they were driving down the highway and Ed Sheeran's 'Castle on the Hill' started playing, but Chloe had managed to regain her composure by then, and she didn't want to set her off.
"I can't show up to my first day of college looking like I've spent the last 24 hours crying all the liquid out of me," she said, fixing her makeup.
"You remembered to pack your 'I love Beca' t-shirt right?"
"All ten of them," Chloe replied.
Beca had actually gotten her one as a joke, but she was planning to wear it anyway, even if it was just to sleep in.
All too soon, they arrived at the University and Beca and Chloe's parents helped her find her dorm and get all her stuff moved in.
Aubrey arrived not long after, her parents gave her a quick goodbye hug and left her to it. Beca wasn't sure what she expected from the Posens, but considering Chloe's Mom and dad were currently squeezing Chloe into the tightest hug she'd ever seen, it wasn't that.
"We're gonna meet up with Jesse and Benji outside their dorm and Stacie is coming later," Aubrey said, checking her phone. "Are you gonna come Beca?"
Beca looked at Chloe before shaking her head. "No, I'm gonna head back. It's high time you college kids started doing… college stuff."
"Beca," Chloe said softly. "You can still come hang out with us you know."
"I know," Beca said. "But not today. Someone might mistake me for a student and ask me a difficult question."
The people staying across the hall from them poked their heads in to say hello and both Beca and Chloe's parents decided this would be a good time to leave.
"I love you," Beca said as she hugged Chloe. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," Chloe replied, her voice cracking.
"I'm a phone call away, okay?"
"Okay," Chloe said, trying to force the tears back. She let out a shaky breath. "Okay." Beca took that as her cue to let go.
As Chloe hugged her parents again, Beca gave Aubrey a hug goodbye.
"I'll look after her," Aubrey said, quietly.
"I know you will."
Beca made the drive home in silence. She couldn't bring herself to listen to any music, because she knew every song would remind her of Chloe. And she didn't want to start crying in the middle of the highway.
She got home and was greeted with more silence. Her dad would be at work for the rest of the day.
There was something painfully familiar about it all.
She clipped Jasper's leash onto his collar, and they walked together into the woods, down towards her clearing.
It had started getting colder, and she pulled her jacket tighter.
She reached her clearing and took a seat where she always did.
The silence settled around her like an old comfortable blanket.
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lunakinesis · 7 years
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Little Brother Problems
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"There's something in the woods."
Those, right there, are words I got tired of hearing from my younger brother, Caleb. He's around eight years old and you know how kids that age are, their imaginations run wild. My parents and I originally tried to soothe him and calm his fears but after months of the same repeated line, we were all tired of it.
It didn't start until we moved into our new house which, surprise surprise, backs onto woodland. My parents think it's his way of protesting the fact we moved yet again, I'm inclined to agree with them. Yeah, it sucks being uprooted from all our friends and school all the damn time, but that's life. He's eight, if he weren't so stuck on this damn 'monster in the woods' bit he'd have made new friends by now. I always manage to and it's a lot harder to be the new kid in high school constantly, let me tell you.
But kids are assholes, and no one wants to be friends with the weird, cry baby, scaredy-cat new kid. Awful as that sounds, it's the truth. Children can be either the most accepting of humans or cruellest.
His isolation wasn't helping the situation; it only served to fuel his over-active imagination. It got to the point where my parents had to switch bedrooms with him, just so he wouldn't be on the back of the house overlooking the trees. It calmed him down some; he didn't start screaming and wailing about it every night. But he didn't let it go either.
Every morning at breakfast, he'd wait for our parents to settle down with us to eat and ask "Did you look out the window last night?" It drove me crazy and you could tell it was annoying our parents too, but he was their son and something was clearly troubling him so they maintained what patience they could and told him they hadn't seen anything.
Caleb was content with this answer for a time but after about a month of hearing the same response, he refused to accept it as truth. "You're not looking! If you looked you would have seen it! You would've, you would've, you would've!"
"Enough!"
My dad, whilst not an ever-benevolent pushover, rarely raised his voice when angered and certainly didn't raise it to his children. I jumped so much in shock that my cereal spilt from my spoon. My mom almost spilled her juice. My little brother on the other hand simply stared silently at our father before his eyes went glassy and he darted from the table and out of the kitchen.
I could tell by his sigh that my dad felt immediately guilty for snapping, and he excused himself from the table to follow my brother upstairs. Mom and I sat in silence after that. Dad had reached breaking point for us; there was nothing we could add.
The biggest problem is Caleb won't say WHAT it is that's supposedly out in the woods. He just repeats that line over and over. We've tried asking but he never even gives so much as a hint to what he's supposedly seen. If he'd tell us we'd have an easier time explaining it or finding a way to deal with it. It could just be an animal, like a coyote or something. Shit, it could even have been a bear. They live out in the nearby wilderness and it's not hard to imagine one wandering close to civilisation for food, happens a lot actually. Or if it's a person we could report it to police, you get all kinds of creepy lurkers when your neighbours are few and far between.
Caleb stayed up in his room all that day; it's a good job we were in the middle of a school break because that wouldn't have been a fun thing for my parents to explain to his teachers.
I was heading back up to my room after dinner when Caleb stopped me by his door. He'd long since stopped crying but he looked ready to start up again at the drop of a hat. "There is something there, Claire! There is!"
I sighed and was about to continue down the hall to my room when he rushed forward and clutched at my arm tight. He might've just been a little kid and I a teenager, but he had a surprisingly strong grip, even managed to leave nail marks embedded into my skin that lasted a couple of hours. "Please... Look out the window tonight. Just look!"
"All right, all right. Just get off before I lose circulation in my arm." Call me a bad sister but I had absolutely no intention of actually doing it, I just wanted the little squirt to let go of me. Anyone else would be the same if they'd put up with this for so long.
His bedtime came around soon enough, and through the gap left between my door (so our house cat could come and go as she pleased) I heard the typical, mumbled conversation he and my mom had every night.
"Will you look out the window tonight?"
"Sweetie, you know there's nothing there. We've been over this before."
"But I saw it!"
"Saw what? If you tell us maybe we can explain it to you. It's probably just a wild animal."
Silence until my mom sighed and said goodnight, leaving the door open a crack and the hall light on as always in the hopes it would put his mind at rest. The rest of the night was uneventful, my parents went to bed before me as they always did during breaks, the cat had settled on the end of my bed and I was getting ready to put my laptop away for the night.
With my laptop slipped down the side of my bed and my table lamp switched off, my little brother's earlier words popped back into my head. I didn't really want to look, but I didn't want to deal with my brother throwing a tantrum in the morning upon learning I hadn't kept my promise. Though no doubt when I told him there was nothing out there – whether I'd looked or not – he'd accuse me of lying.
So reluctantly I headed to the window and pulled back the drapes, staring out over the back yard. It was dark, barely illuminated by moonlight and darker still for the trees that lined the edge of it. There was nothing out there to see beyond some slightly swaying tree branches in the breeze. Not even an animal like a raccoon trying to skulk its way from the woodland into the yard proper to raid our trash.
Completely unsurprised by seeing absolutely nothing out there, I sighed and released the drapes to go settle into bed.
Only to catch something from the corner of my eye.
My head snapped back and I pulled the curtain away again to peer out into the night. Had my little brother been right all along or was it just my tired eyes playing tricks on me?    
As I stared out across the yard, something at the edge where the trees pushed through a gap in the fence caught my eye once more. I thought it might just have been low branches shifting in the wind given it was the only movement I'd seen before, but that thought was dismissed when I remembered dad had recently cut back the branches to stop them pushing over the fence more than the overgrowth already had.
Something down there was waving, and it wasn't the plant life.
A person with more sense might've gone to wake up their dad who held a license to carry. But I was sadly lacking in it and half believed my parents would just think I was encouraging my brother. Hurrying across my room, I flipped my main light on – much to the annoyance of my cat – and went back to the window, now being able to see across the yard better.
The bottom was still shrouded in darkness, but the light cast far enough for the blurred, blotched together shadows to become more individual and within those shifting figures of trees was something else entirely.
It waved. Crooked and slow. It was thin and gnarled like a twig, but pale as moonlight. It was small and would've been hard to see even during the day if it was trying to remain hidden. But it had been waiting. Waiting for one of us other than my brother to see it, and now I watched as it slipped its tiny self through the hole in our fence.
I told dad he should've fixed that the second we moved in.
I was frozen a few seconds longer, eyes fixed on it as it took slow, unsure steps across the grass before I myself stumbled back, breaking into a sprint after nearly tripping over a discarded hoodie of mine on the floor.
"It found us, it found us!" I don't remember much of the next ten minutes following screaming that to my now-jarred awake parents. My mother left to grab my brother as my father ran around the house, making sure every door and window was locked, his hunting rifle tucked under one arm.
I retrieved our cat, holding onto her tightly as her hackles rose and she began to hiss. My little brother burrowed his face into our mom's shoulder, his shrill, muffled voice begging to know what was going on, asking if we'd seen the thing in the woods.
A knock came on the back door then and our mother screamed. It was soft and slow and followed by another afterwards. We huddled in the hall, peering into the kitchen where dad stood, finger ready on the trigger.
"Mommy? Daddy? I'm cold... let me in pleeeeeeeease."
"GO AWAY! JUST GO AWAY!"
My mom's screaming was comparable to that of a Banshee, I'm sure. It was more of a shriek, ear-splitting and full of anger, hate, and fear. I could see my dad trembling as the door handle jiggled.
My little brother was sobbing now, shaking in my mother's arms. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry. I didn't want you to be mad. I didn't tell. I know you said to tell but I didn't! I'm sorry!"
Mom shushed him the best she could between her own choked sobbing. I cradled our cat, trying to keep her in my arms to prevent her darting out through the cat flap. We all remembered what happened last time. Sometimes I still hear the pained yowl Boots made when... when it got him.
I don't blame Caleb for not telling us, he's so young and doesn't really understand what he did, but he blames himself for 'it' being around. It is his fault, but he was so young, too young to understand what he'd done. He thinks we'll blame him whenever it comes.
"Is Claire there? She didn't wave to me. Why is she being so mean? ClaireClaireClaire!"
"How did it find us so fast? How has it been here all this time? We moved half way across the country!" My mom was hysterical, and my dad who had been silently watching the shaking door up until that point finally spoke.
"Go upstairs. Pack everything you can up. We leave in the morning when that thing has to hide away again."
None of us needed telling twice, my mom hurried up the stairs, still holding onto my little brother tightly, and I did the same with Salem, who I let go of once my door was shut.
We fortunately always kept plenty of suitcases and backpacks. We were used to moving. Used to having to leave before we could ever really settle down. As I began emptying my drawers and closet, packing the most important and precious things first, I tried to drown out the sound of my mother and brother crying as they went between my parent's bedroom and his, and more importantly I tried to drown out the sound of the ever-increasing banging on the back door, the shaking of the handle and my father yelling for it to 'fuck off and leave us alone!'
I caught myself looking out of the window as I stuffed my glasses case into a backpack. I swear the thing sensed me because it stopped knocking and looked up the instant I looked down. It was missing an eye now. Just a gaping hole where it had been, flesh rotten and peeling away. Half of the skin and flesh on its cheek was missing. The sight of its rotten teeth made me want to vomit. Especially when it grinned, toothy and child-like, and waved up to me again. I closed my curtains, fighting back tears and trying to maintain level breathing.
The night seemed to last forever, and I don't know if I was grateful we lived far enough away from everyone for our neighbours not to investigate the noise or if I would've preferred for someone to come, even if we could never explain the thing that stalked us everywhere we went.
By the time the sun rose it had shambled off, but we knew it wasn't far, we knew it would be back that night. We knew we couldn't stay. We wasted no time in loading up my dad's van with everything we could. Mom's car was filled up too. We'd send family for the rest once we were far enough away, they were always clearing up after us, they were safe. It was only us it followed. Only us it plagued.
With Salem in my lap I glanced out of the van window as dad sped away, and I swear I saw the thing lurking in the bushes at the edge of my vision. Watching us. But I had to have been imagining things, it had never come out during the day before.
My parents apologised for not believing my brother, but when he didn't tell them the thing in the yard was 'it', like we were supposed to, they thought it was just him coping badly moving around so much, that being followed by ‘it’ so often had started to make him have nightmare and see monsters everywhere. We'd wanted so badly to think we were finally free of it, and wanted Caleb to be able to move on to.
You see, it wasn't always just me and him. Caleb was a twin, my other little brother Chris. Chris was the louder, bolder, more dominant twin. A bit of a bully to meek, introverted Caleb. One day he smashed the model plane Caleb had been working on for weeks whilst pretending to fly it around their room. I think Caleb just reached his breaking point and kids aren't good with emotions. He shoved Chris from the bed he was jumping around on, and Chris smashed his head right on the corner of their dresser. The fall had been so hard and at the right angle against edges that long should've been sanded down that it pierced right through his skull.
Caleb was just five. He didn't know. He didn't understand. My parents couldn't let him suffer for it. They did what they had to and like a good older sister, I helped. We left Chris in a bog out at the edge of our county. We didn't know what else to do; we couldn't lose Caleb as well. We reported him missing. Our fear and sorrow were genuine, but not for the reasons people thought. But who would suspect my ever-doting, loving parents of harming their child? Or that shy Caleb was a killer? It worked, and as months passed Chris faded from news reports and searches were called off.
We thought it was over.
Until Chris came back.
I don't know how, none of us do. But one night he reappeared, stinking of rot and muck and shuffling up through our backyard. My mom had been about to open the door, oblivious to the fact something was clearly amiss with her child, and seeing only that— her child, somehow 'alive'. Boots beat her to it, skittering out the cat flap to Chris. He'd always been an affectionate kitty.
Then distressed cries and a sickening snap. My mom screamed, and I looked out the kitchen window to see what had once been my little brother ripping a chunk of flesh from Boots' neck.
We've been running ever since. But it doesn't matter how far we go, he always finds us. Always. He's never found us so quickly before and we're running out of places to go without fleeing the country. Even then I don't think we'd be safe, I know he'd find us somehow.
And I know one day the guilt will be too much for us to bear. One day we'll let him in.
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IronHawk (Part Fourteen)
MASTERLIST 
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“Another day, another mission, hm Agent Barton?”
Hawkeye didn't even flinch when he rounded the corner to be mess hall and found Director Fury waiting for him. His wings spread a little farther however, and Fury caught the aggressive motion. “You know, If I didn't know better I'd think you didn't like me.”
“He doesn't.” Logan rounded the same corner just a few seconds behind Clint, brushing past the Director as he made his way to the counter for breakfast.
“Your roommate leaves quite a bit to be desired.” Fury squinted his one eye disapprovingly at Logan's broad back.
“What do you want, Fury?”
“Now, is that any way to speak to a man who only has your best interest in mind?”
Clint rolled his eyes, and started moving again, Fury falling into step beside him as he moved through the buffet style breakfast spread.
“I have been talking to Agent Coulson, and we feel like it's time for you to rejoin the Avengers. They have attracted the attention of a few local vigilante-types, and it would be better for all of us if the entire team was there to make decisions regarding the newcomers.”
Logan looked up from where he was shoveling pancakes into his mouth, and Clint met his eyes uneasily.
“Is that so?” Setting his own tray of waffles, pancakes, cereal, bacon and sausage down at the table, Clint dropped into the seat across from his friend, leaving Fury standing.
“Yes.” The director replied shortly, watching the two men with an thoughtful expression. “In fact, I could even see to making sure your roommate is welcome at the tower as well. Since the two of you seem to get along so well. Coulson says the two of you are basically inseparable.”
If Fury expected Logan to get angry at the insinuation in his tone, he was disappointed. The mutant simply downed his cup of coffee, reached across to spear a waffle from Clint’s plate, and kept right on eating.
“I'll think about it.” Clint muttered around a mouthful of food. “Logan, if you take food off my plate again I'll put an arrow through your hand I swear to god.”
“It's not really up for discussion, Hawkeye.” Fury said impatiently. “You will be removed from assignment on SHIELD and---”
“Try and stab me, Wing Boy. Do it.” Logan's low voice interrupted, and Fury watched with a degree of fascinated horror as three silver blades close to a foot long each slid through the hand casually resting on the table. Clint just laughed and tossed a napkin at the other man before finally turning back to Fury.
“Look, I know I don't actually have much say in where you send me. But if it's all the same to you, trust me when I say keeping me from the Avengers tower will keep the peace a lot longer. I am sure you with your all seeing eye are aware of everything that's happened, and taking me back would just… nobody wants to see that okay? It's better this way.”
“I will take your feelings on the matter into consideration.” Fury couldn't take his eye off Logan, who was staring right back at him, with an amused smirk, as the blades disappeared back into his knuckles. “Does that… hurt?” He couldn't help asking and Clint chuckled.
“Apparently it hurts every fucking time. Or at least every time I ask him.”
“Noted.” The director said blandly, and turned on his heel to go.
“So, you're leaving then?” Logan asked after he finished another waffle from Clint’s plate.
“No.” Clint answered shortly. “At least not yet.” he downed a glass of orange juice and wiped his mouth, not missing how Logan's eyes dropped right to his lips. Clint tried to ignore the shiver of interest that crawled down his spine. “ Now let's go. Time to make the new recruits cry.”
Logan grinned, lit a cigar, and followed his roommate from the mess hall. ***********************
Hawkeye spent the morning at the shooting range with rotating teams of SHIELD operatives. Even though he preferred arrows, he was just as good, if not better with guns, and the trainees always walked away from their sessions with him thoroughly impressed. He drove them hard, pushing them for excellence well past the point of their arms being tired, and their vision blurring from staring at targets.
In the afternoon he joined Logan in the training gyms, sparring and wrestling with the soldiers. While Logan had brute strength and endurance for days, his fighting style lacked any grace, he was more of a brawler. He oversaw quite a bit of the strength training.
Clint on the other hand, had always been a cunning hand to hand fighter, helped even more by the strength and agility his wings provided now. He spent more time on technique and form.
While SHIELD hadn't actively sought out mutants for their ranks, a few had come up through the selection process anyway, and both Logan and Clint enjoyed working with them the best. Their last few hours every day were often spent specifically with those few mutants, working on drawing out their strengths in a way that could be controlled.
Together, the two men were a formidable fighting team, and the cadets enjoyed watching and learning from them. Some days they even fought each other as a contest, no wings, no claws, just man to man. It was almost always a friendly draw, both men panting in exhaustion by the time they called it quits.
Today something was different.
Clint watched Logan closely as the mutant circled him in the sparring room. The other soldiers and trainees had already packed up and left when Logan had stopped and asked him if he wanted to go a round.
Clint had agreed quickly, more than willing to work off all the lingering frustration from Fury’s visit. The Avengers, and as a result, Tony, had been on his mind all day, and he had been short tempered with all the soldiers, until Logan had finally dismissed the group and told Clint to get his ass on the mat so they could go a few rounds.
Unstrapping his heavy weighted boxing gloves, Clint tugged them off, tossing them in a pile with the long sleeve he had started the day in. He paced around Logan, feeling plenty loose enough in his pants and t shirt.
Logan copied his movement, circling him easily. Then pulled his gloves off too. And his shirt. And Clint actually gulped when Logan stood before him in just his low slung jeans.
“Ready, Wing Boy?” Logan raised his fists. “You gonna fight with those things out, or what?”
“Oh, right, hold on.” Clint took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, pulling his wings in slowly. It got harder to hide them, now that he wore them free almost every day. It settled like a dull ache in his back when they finally disappeared and he shifted uncomfortably.  But if Logan couldn't use his claws and had to pull his punches, Clint couldn't fly. It was only fair. “Bring it on, Big Boy.”
With his typical cocky attitude, Clint dropped into a faux-karate pose and beckoned with two fingers.
Logan smirked. Then hit him hard. “God dammit Logan!” Clint yelled, from his back, as the mutant stood over him grinning. Clint stood slowly, shaking his head. He knew Logan always pulled his punches, a full hit from the man would not only snap his jaw, but possibly kill him. But that had fucking hurt.
“Let's go.” Logan taunted, raising his fists again, and Clint snarled and rushed him. It took all of his not inconsiderable body weight to get Logan to the floor, but he wasn't there for long, springing back up to jab at Clint. The men circled, ducking and weaving, blocking shots from each other. A punch from Clint wouldn't even slow Logan down, so he dropped, his leg kicking out to put the big man back on the floor. There was a clunk as Logan's hard head hit the ground and the mutant coughed out a laugh.
“Really? Tripping me?”
“You almost knocked me unconscious with your first punch, dickwad.” Clint shot back, barely jumping out of the way of Logan's right fist. “A trip is the least you deserve.”
“And what's the most I deserve?” Logan tossed back with a laugh. Clint darted past him and slapped his head hard before twisting back around to throw punches at his midsection.
“Well I wouldn't know, considering we've never made it past sparring.” Clint snapped. When Logan went for his legs, he jumped neatly over his back, twisting mid air and landing a solid kick to Logan's lower back. Logan sent him an amused glance and Clint shrugged.
“I don't need wings to be awesome.” He snarked.
“So, you want to, then?” Logan asked, turning quickly to avoid another annoying slap, and tagging Clint’s shoulder with a hard left.
“Do I want to what?” Clint backed off a few steps, beginning to breathe hard, rubbing his shoulder.
“Go past sparring.” Logan gave him some space, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a heavily muscled arm.
“You want to fight for real?” Clint asked, disbelieving. “We’d tear each other up, man, that doesn't sound like a good idea at all.”
“Come on Alpha.” the word coming from Logan's mouth sounded…wrong and Clint’s fists clenched against an unexpected surge of want. “Show me your wings.”
Clint growled, spreading his legs and calling his wings and Logan's eyes widened, dilated, watching them unfurl. There was something so primitive about them, something so wild that made him absolutely crazy. Hawkeye was already formidable, but with wings behind him he looked more avenging demon than guardian angel, and Logan loved it.
“Yeah.” Logan breathed, feeling the animal in him stir and stretch. “Yeah, Hawkeye.”
Clint stepped back to his gear, putting his gloves back on. They were weighted specifically for boxing, so it was more of a workout, but in this case it evened the playing field between the two. He still wouldn't put more than a bruise on Logan, but at least the man would feel something.
“Come get me, mutant.” Clint called, stepping back onto the mats.
“You first, Alpha.” Logan purposefully used the word again, his overly sensitive nose picking up the change in Clint’s scent. He wasn't in tune enough to know if it was anger, or arousal, but he liked it anyway.
Clint’s wings beat slowly, bringing him off the floor as he cracked his neck. “Ready?”
Logan laughed. “So ready for you, Hawk. Come on.”
The fight was brutal.
For almost thirty minutes, they grappled with each other. Logan still had to pull his punches, but Clint certainly didn't, pounding into Logan's frame every time they connected. His wings keeping him just out of Logan's reach, and bringing him back in almost faster than the other could see. Logan ducked and rolled against the onslaught, landing several punches in succession against Clints ribs when he didn't turn away fast enough. Clint cursed every time a hit landed, and Logan kept laughing. Clint drove Logan to the floor over and over again, the only way he could get him to actually absorb a hit that hurt. When Logan went to jump back up, Clint hooked his arms through Logan's and lifted him off the ground, to drop him from several feet up.
“Shit Bird boy!” Logan snapped, moving quite a bit slower when he got up this time. From above him Clint just laughed.
“Come on, Logan. Get your heavy ass up and moving! I could do this all day!” Logan jumped quickly, catching the leg of the off guard Hawkeye, and yanking back him earth, planting a solid punch on Clint’s jaw.
Clint groaned, and shook his head to clear the stars, just barely ducking in time to avoid another. “Are you trying to break my jaw?!” he griped and Logan shrugged, rolling those big shoulders.
“Well, aren't we fighting? Alpha? Maybe you should try hurting me, it might make you feel better.”
Logan didn't even see Clint coming. One minute the Alpha was standing there glaring, and the next he had slammed into Logan full force, all the strength of his body and wings smashing Logan onto the cold concrete off the edge of the mats. Logan coughed as the wind was knocked out of him at the impact, shaking his head waiting for the cobwebs to clear.
Hawkeye had pinned Logan down, one arm across the mutants throat, his body a heavy weight all the way down Logan's tall frame.
“How about that? Did that hurt?” Clint growled, and Logan raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the space between their bodies. Clint followed his eyes, down to where Logan had his claws out, starting to dig into Hawks stomach.
“Are we still fighting?” Logan asked, his deep voice suddenly going soft. Clint took the question as a challenge, his eyes shading red and wings pushing back to their full length, arched high and aggressive, body pressing harder to avoid Logan moving.
Logan's eyes glazed over at the display, and with a soft schwing his claws slid back, disappearing into his hand, which he then dropped down to his side.
The sudden submission unnerved Clint, and he eased off Logan's throat, his arm resting next to the mutants head. He stared down into light brown eyes, wings slowly relaxing until they were simply presented out, not aggressive anymore.
“I don't think so.” he finally answered, and a very small smile crossed Logan's lips.
“Are you going to go back to the Tower?” he asked, eyes searching Clint’s face.
“I don't...know. There's a whole lot more at stake than just what I want--”
“I only want to hear what you want, though.” Logan interrupted. “Do you want to go back?”
“I--I--” The wings fell a little further, nearly surrounding them on the floor, and Logan's eyes lit a little, and he shifted beneath Clint's body in anticipation. “I'm not--” Clint hesitated.
“Well.” a new voice disrupted their moment, and Clint’s wings snapped forward in defense, just as Logan's claws made an appearance towards the intruder.
Agent Coulson stood in the doorway. “It looks like all your training together has certainly paid off. Does every sparring match end like this, or did I just walk in on a good one?”
Clint huffed an embarrassed laugh and pushed himself onto his feet, bringing his wings in close to his shoulders in deference to his boss.
Logan stayed on the ground, moving to a sitting position, arms loose over his knees. “What brings you by the training ground, Coulson?” he asked lazily. “I wasn't aware you actually did anything besides paperwork.”
“Paperwork and showing up at awkward moments apparently.” Coulson's voice was always so deceptively calm and Logan just snorted. “Logan, you made quite an impression on Director Fury today. I believe his exact words were ‘that steel claw wielding mother fucker needs to watch his step’.”
“Did you tell him they aren't steel?” Logan accepted Clint’s helping hand up, and grabbed his shirt from the corner.
“Oh it's not my job to tell Director Fury anything.” Coulson answered easily. “Agent Barton, if I could have a word alone?”
“Yeah sure. Can you get my gear back to the room?” he asked Logan, who simply nodded, and left. “What's up?” Clint folded his arms, wings rustling in annoyance when Coulson leveled a glare at him.
“What the hell are you doing, Barton?”
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