#i technically have another 4.5k words written already

[trensu]

Have an itty bitty tiny piece of stasis in darkness, just so you all have an idea of where the story is going after the godly reveal. and also have proof that i am, in fact, still toiling away at this (as well as hawkins halfway house.)

A week and a half later, Steve entered a town he’d never seen before. He wore simple traveling clothes and carried no weapons aside from a couple of carefully hidden knives. He’d left his armor and shield behind. His satchel held only the essentials one needed for travel and a single stone as large as his fist. The stone was wrapped in layers of cloth to keep it safe during the journey. 

I need you to find someone. 

He felt very bare but he hadn’t been given much of a choice. Speed was of the essence for his quest, and little no-name towns tended to be wary of strangers in plain clothes, even more so around strangers decked out for battle. Steve wasn’t sure this place could be called a town. It was so small it hadn’t been on any official map. It didn’t even have an inn. Hopefully, Steve wouldn’t be needing an inn once he found who he was looking for.

He’s too far from me to reach.

He asked around, laying on the charm generously. He explained he had been a friend of a friend and had been trusted to deliver something. Eventually, he was told where to go. The house he found far beyond the village’s boundary was small. It looked like it had once been well cared for but it was old and had fallen to disrepair. Steve took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A sallow old man opened the door. He was bald but had some scruff on his face still. His shoulders, stooped from age, trembled. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked so tired.

He’s my very last worshiper in all the world.

“Wayne Munson?” Steve asked.

“Who wants to know?” The man’s voice was phlegmy and rough. He coughed into the crook of his elbow almost before he could finish speaking. 

“I’m Steve. Ser Steve Harrington, pledged to the Lord of Night.”

Wayne’s eyes widened. His grip on the open door weakened and slipped. Steve caught the door before it could hit Wayne.

“He sent me to you,” Steve explained. “May I come in?”

yep, that's it for now. i told you it was small. i'm not even gonna bother with a read-more here.

#trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #i technically have another 4.5k words written already #but it is very much still a rough draft #it's all clunky chunks of stone with all that i want to happen but has not been carved and smoothed out properly yet #also i have decided to include at least a couple of prayers #because i hate myself apparently and want to make myself suffer #a poet i am not #and i haven't stepped in a church or said prayers in literal decades #well #that's a lie #i did attend ONE mass in that time only because my mom asked me so she wouldn't have to go alone #the priest went off on the queers during his sermon and my mom never asked me to go with her again lol #so i remember none of the prayers #and even if i did #i learned all my prayers in spanish #i have no idea how they go in english #ughhhhhh why do i do these things to myself

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Chapter 16: Endings Beginnings

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: Ari and Hannah settle into life back home, but it isn’t all as smooth as they’d have hoped…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Word Count- 4.5k

A/N: It was recently brought to our attention that in a few other chapters there have been a couple of things that Ari has said/done that are not technically accurate for someone of Jewish heritage. First up, it was reference to Ari observing a ‘Sunday Roast’ when he visited Mama Navon. We just wanted to remind people that Hannah is of Catholic Christian and Jewish heritage (Spanish Catholic Mother, American Jewish Father) and her and Sammy’s upbringing has always been a combination of the two. So, when Ari visited Mama Navon when he was home from Sudan, clearly this was her tradition he was observing. Secondly, in another chapter Ari was praying to the ‘God and the Saints’. Of course, Judaism does not have saints, so there’s a slip up on our part with that one. As with the third point, when we described Ari rushing Sarah to the alter. He would have rushed her to the hoopa.

Regarding all of the above, we would hasten to add, that Ari grew up in the USA, leaving when he was 18. From what little we learn of him in the film, we know was taken by a British Soldier, who married an American Nurse. From the way he talks about it, we don’t get the impression his ‘adoptive’ parents were Jewish, so that alludes us to suspect he had a largely Christian upbringing, whilst clearly  being aware of his heritage. Therefore, we don’t think it is beyond the realms of possibility that he would pick up the odd little thing such as the above three points.  

That aside, we hope the above didn’t distract anyone else from the narrative as it did the reader who brought it to our attention.

Now, just a personal plea from myself in general. Myself and Storm do this for free, and not being a person who pays much attention to religion at all (that’s another debate in itself) it is for this reason I was VERY nervous about continuing this storyline beyond the plot of the film. We certainly don’t have the time, nor brain capacity to be researching things into any kind of huge depth. It’s why most of my story lines centre along similar types of things that I have a good background in. This fic was never supposed to focus on the ins and outs of a particular race of people, just the lives of two dumbasses in love. As all writers on here, we do this for free, and the moment it becomes hard work or unenjoyable, we won’t be continuing. So any other little slip ups, please, unless they’re offensive, give us a little leeway and put it down to Ari being exceptionally Westernised as pointed out above.

Sorry if this comes across as being a little harsh, but this has been playing on my mind a lot over the past few days, to the point I was seriously considering if we ended the fic where it currently stood. That said, I think we have a lot left to tell of Hannah and Ari’s story so, I’ll shut up now and let you read it…if you want that is.

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 15

“You haven’t forgotten tomorrow?” Hannah heard her mother ask, as the woman stood up from the table while holding the teacup and saucer to place them in the sink. “You do remember you have to pick Sammy up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right?”

 Hannah rolled her eyes at her mother’s back. “No, I haven’t forgotten,” she sighed as she played with the crumbles of the pastry she had been nibbling on, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on, is it? Seeing as Ari is with Maya and according to Sarah’s stupid rules I can’t be there with them…”

 At that, Maria Navon turned, giving her daughter a sympathetic look and Hannah snorted in anger.

 It had been four months since they arrived back in Tel Aviv, and Hannah had to concede that for the first few weeks it was fine. She and Ari settled nicely in the apartment Mossad rented in Ari’s name once all the paperwork following the end of the mission had been sorted. Ari had asked Isaacs for an upgrade of his living quarters, given he was now having Maya over to stay every other weekend, plus numerous nights of the week. Not to mention the fact Hannah was moving with him. When Isaacs had asked Ari to put a justification forward, he had simply shrugged, “I fucking earned it, Isaacs.”

 So he got it. Just like he usually got what he wanted, one way or another.

 Hannah was back working at the clinic. Her hands and the experience she had acquired while in Africa were needed more than ever now that it was only her mother and her to run it, although how long it was before her mom decided to retire fully was anyone’s guess. It had been a couple of busy months, what with interviewing for new nurses and locum staff, but Hannah would be lying if she denied having enjoyed every minute of it. She might have Mossad secret agent skills, obviously passed down by her father, but she was a doctor at heart. And that hadn’t changed in the two years she had been away.

 The team had split up within a month of arrival back in Tel Aviv.  Ari and Max had been working to help the refugees. Many of them had simply melted away post their arrival, still not trusting the mysterious white men who had come to their aid. However, some had stuck round; being housed temporarily in hostels, and was those who Ari and Max were tirelessly working for. They focussed their efforts on obtaining them permanent, legal status along with finding them better places to live and jobs of sorts to help them fit in their new reality. 

 Jake had headed back overseas to continue work as a diving instructor, this time in Jamaica, whilst Sammy had been in the States with Rachel for almost two and a half months now, and was, as Maria just reminded Hannah, due back the following day. Hannah suspected, however, not for long, fully expecting him to move there permanently to be with Rachel.

“Sammy is lucky, you know? He has none of this shit with Rachel’s ex.” Hannah grumbled, “Sarah is just being a pain in the ass. And I know for a fact it’s because we told her we got engaged. She was fine with me being there when Maya was until that point.” Hannah finished her rant as she placed her teacup and saucer on her mother’s extended hand. 

“You can’t be sure about that, sweetheart. Maybe there’s something else."

“No, she’s being a bitch.” Hannah quickly stopped her mother’s attempts at justifying Sarah’s behaviour. “She seems perfectly fine with us having dinner during the week and going out and stuff but won’t let Maya stay when I’m there on a weekend, basically just preventing us from spending those days together, for no reason other than she’s bitter.”

Maria Navon sighed. She knew where her daughter was coming from but, being the gentle and caring woman she was, she couldn’t help but try to put herself in the other woman’s shoes. She saw Hannah bite her lip and twirl her engagement ring round her finger, a rounded blue sapphire as deep as the ocean set against a halo of smaller white diamonds on a white gold band, before she spoke again.

 “I wouldn’t mind mama but they’ve been legally separated for years! The terms of their divorce are basically already been agreed. All they need to do is sign the damned papers but recently, well, Ari seems afraid to even raise the issue in case Sarah starts making it all awkward again and stops him seeing Munch.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Listen to me.” Hannah’s mother caught her attention as she pulled out a chair to sit next to her. “Everything is going to be ok, she’ll sign eventually. She knows there isn’t anything she can do about it, she’s just grieving.”

 Hannah’s brow creased at her mother’s choice of words. “Grieving for what? She left him, years ago!”

“She left him because she couldn’t cope with his lifestyle anymore, and he wasn’t winning any awards for being husband of the year, Han. That doesn’t mean she didn’t love him,” Maria woman spoke softly as if to appease her daughter’s raging tone.

“So, basically, I’m just stuck here waiting until she gets her head out of her ass?” 

“Have a little patience, honey. You two have waited over a decade, one way or another, to be together. You sure can wait a few weeks more.” Maria smiled as she reached out for Hannah’s hands who were fiddling with a teaspoon. 

“That’s the thing, Mama.” Hannah sighed as she looked up to meet her mom’s eyes. “I don’t think it’s just going to be weeks.”

“You don’t?” The woman frowned. “Well maybe she’s more stubborn than I thought.”

Hannah shook her head and then noticed her mother’s features had suddenly softened into a smile and she was looking straight over her shoulder. Hannah turned to see Ethan walking into the kitchen in his signature crisp work suit.

“Hi Ethan,” Hannah smiled at him and then looked up at the clock over the fridge before standing up and shrugging. “I should go. Spend the night with my fiancée before I’m banished back to my childhood home for the weekend like a love sick teenager.”

As she left the kitchen dramatically, she heard Ethan ask Maria. “That bad?”

“She’s pissed off,” Hannah heard her mom whisper back, “can’t say I blame her but she needs to make an attempt to see this from the other side, so to speak.”

With an angry growl, Hannah slammed the door and set off walking back to their apartment, in even more of  bad mood than she’d been in when she arrived at her mother’s. 

 Why was anyone treating her like she was the spoiled brat?

****

Ari was getting ready for Hannah’s arrival. He had been cooking, or sort of, making an attempt at dinner for a while and was now setting the table for two. He wanted to make tonight special as he knew this week was going to be the third weekend out of six that he and Hannah would be apart thanks to Sarah and her fucking rules. 

He was finding it hard himself. He’d gotten used to sleeping besides his Firefly since they had got together in Sudan, especially at night. But he knew Hannah was finding it harder. He was sacrificing their time together so that he could spend his allotted weekends with his daughter, which lessened the blow a little, but Hannah was basically being banned from living her life as it was for two days every two weeks, and that make his heart ache. 

And the worst bit about it all, was that he had seen it coming a mile off, and had been powerless to prevent it.

It was a bright Friday morning when they told Maya about their engagement. The previous evening Ari had proposed to Hannah for a second time after buying her a lavish ring. Thus, they had decided to take Maya for a walk and ice cream to break the news to her.  The little girl had been over the moon with the idea of her dad and Hannah getting married, which hadn’t surprised Ari seeing as his daughter had been all over his fiancé ever since they had met at Mossad headquarters the morning they had arrived home.

Now, as he approached Sarah’s apartment to take Maya back, he was about to tell his ex-wife and he was not particularly looking forward to it. But, he was being cautiously optimistic. Sarah had, after all, been amendable since they’d gotten home and seemed okay with Hannah being a part of Maya’s life.

Still, he felt his stomach churn as Maya walked up the apartment they had all shared once upon a time, and rang the doorbell.  No sooner had Sarah opened the door, Maya bounced in blurting the news out without hesitation.

 “Mom, guess what? Dad and Han are getting married! He asked her yesterday and she said yes!”

Ari groaned internally to himself, “Sarah, I didn’t ask her last night,” he smiled bashfully as he explained himself, “and I certainly didn’t do it in front of Maya.”

Sarah shook her head and brushed it off.  “Don’t worry, Ari and … erm, congratulations, I guess.”

“Erm… thanks.” Ari blinked. “I just thought you should hear it from me first… even if you technically did hear it from Munch.”

Despite the civil exchange, Ari could tell that Sarah was hating she didn’t have time nor the privacy to digest the news, and that wasn’t what he’d planned at all. He’d wanted to tell her, quickly, and leave, but Maya had put paid to his plans. Ari could feel coldness of his estranged wife’s stare, along with the tell-tale faint twitch of her nose and upper lip. He knew Sarah well and he, also knew how she deep down felt about him and Hannah. 

“She seemed cool about it but I know her, Han. Too cool for Sarah.” Ari told Hannah that night over dinner. “I can’t help feeling this is going to be bad…”

For once, Ari wished to God he’d been proven wrong. But, Sarah ended up doing what he feared, reverting back to being petty and petulant. She called him the next day to announce from that moment on, when Maya stayed with him, be it during the week or on her agreed weekends, Hannah wasn’t to be there overnight because, as Sarah had put it, it wasn’t appropriate for Maya to be around when they were… well, “up to stuff.

Hannah went ballistic, telling Ari his estranged wife was being ridiculous and she could go to hell, but Ari knew Sarah well enough to know she needed to get this out of her system. He tried his best to explain to Hannah that until she did, there was nothing he could do but roll with it, certainly for the time being. Making Sarah angry would not only risk her going back on terms of the divorce they’d set out in their separation degree, but also, he feared, make her get pissy about him seeing Maya. And that simply wasn’t something he was prepared to risk. He’d already missed too much of Maya over the years, admittedly through his own fault, but he didn’t want to miss a single second more than he had to.

Just as Ari was turning down the heat under their dinner, Simon’s ears pricked up and a second later Hannah’s key was heard in the door. Air smiled at the dog, who let out an excited whine, and leaned to give him a scratch behind his ears.

“Mama’s home, buddy.”

The pooch looked up at his master almost like he was pondering his words and Ari scoffed. 

Yeah, home. Bar the weekends when she’s banished to her mother's…

 Simon trotted off and soon after Ari heard Hannah greeting him. A moment later she walked into the living area and gave him a tired, but genuine smile. 

“Hey Lobo.”

 Ari beamed at his fiancé as he walked to meet her and without warning, he grabbed her face with both hands and stamped his lips on her plump ones, kissing the hell out of her. Hannah moaned in surprise but melted into his hold, her hands instantly reaching for Ari’s bearded cheeks.

“Hey Firefly.” He whispered when he broke the kiss.

She smiled at him as her hands travelled upwards and tangled in his hair. “Something smells good.”

“Thanks, I just showered.” Ari drawled, a cheeky smile on his face.

“I meant the food, you ass.” Hannah laughed as one of her hands slapped Ari shoulder, but his grin never faded.

“I’m a whole meal, honey.” He continued, playfully. Hannah rolled her eyes and stepped back. “But yeah, I’ve been cooking or rather mixing things in pots and pans.”

“Hmmm should I be worried?” She shrugged off the light jacket she was wearing to shield her from the summer showers.

“Well, Simon tasted everything and he’s still breathing.”

“Simon used to eat jellyfish, Ari. That’s not a bar to measure your cooking with.”

“Hey, I tried, okay? Give me some credit. I’ve never cooked for a woman before.” He grabbed her hips and pressed her to his body, one of his big hands splaying over her back.

At that Hannah smiled at him lovingly. He was right. She suspected he had never cooked for Sarah and he certainly hadn’t cooked for her, not once. Never in the brief amount of time they had been secretly dating, and at the resort it had been Chef Aziz's job to cook for everyone.

“I’m honoured, and I’m sure it’ll be great. Give me five to go wash up okay?”

“Sure, babe. I’ll plate the food and open the wine.” He winked at her and Hannah stood on her toes and gave him another quick peck before she headed into the bedroom, Simon following her.

True to his word Ari had done a pretty good job and thirty minutes later they were both sat at the table after having enjoyed a dammed passable and tasty attempt at a beef stroganoff on Ari’s part that left Hannah pleasantly surprised. 

She sighed with satisfaction as she left her fork on her plate and when she looked up she noticed Ari was looking at her intently, his eyes shining under those long eyelashes.

“You trying to seduce me before my carriage turns into a pumpkin tomorrow, Levinson?” Hannah asked before bringing her glass of wine to her lips.

“Hannah...” he sighed.

“What?”

“Please don’t, sweetheart. I don’t want to argue.” 

It was her turn to sigh, heavily. Ari’s words were more of a plea than a warning to her, but she couldn’t help the way she was feeling. Granted, she wasn’t quite as pissed as when she had left her mother’s house, but she still had a sour feeling which was nagging at her. 

“I don’t want to either, Ari. I just don’t like the prospect of spending my weekend away from you. Again.”

“And you think I do?” He asked, reaching for her hand over the table. “Honey, this won’t be forever. Sarah just needs to get her stupid tantrum out of her system.”

“Yeah, I know and I don’t want you having trouble with Maya because of me, I wouldn’t keep you from Munch, ever. But you’re my fiancé and I just...” she trailed off, shrugging, “I don’t want us to be apart.”

Ari licked his lips and pondered for a moment as he looked at their entwined hands. “Okay, I’ll talk to her when I pick Maya up tomorrow.” He nodded with determination when he looked up at her. “See if I can reason with her and...”

“Don’t Ari. You’ll only set her off.” Hannah rapidly cut him off.

Ari groaned and let go of her hand, his look and voice growing harder. “Well then, what do you want me to do? You literally just said-“

“I know, but I don’t want you to poke the bear! I just want this fucking ridiculous situation to be over.” Hannah shook her head. She knew she was riling Air up, but she was sick of everyone trying to get her to accept the situation they were in without so much as a word of complaint. “I’m not blaming you, it’s just…forget it, can we just pretend we are a normal couple who are having a normal evening dinner?”

“We are a normal couple. Well, as normal as most anyway.” Ari took her hand again, his features softening. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I just don’t know what I can do.”

“Love me.” Hannah stated after a while.

Now that puzzled Ari. Was that a request or was she doubting him. She couldn’t be doubting him, right? With concern written all over his face he pushed his chair back to stand up and hurriedly crouched beside Hannah, his hands grabbing her thighs firmly as his eyes searched for something in hers. 

“Firefly, I do love you. You know this… I mean, at least, I hope you do.”

“I do.” She nodded as she looked down to him. “Just don’t stop loving me, no matter what crazy ideas Sarah comes up with.” 

“Hannah, that’s not gonna happen.” He assured her after swallowing hard. “I promise you. Nothing she says or does is gonna change the way I feel about you.” 

****

Ari meant what he said and took it upon himself to make sure his Firefly was left with no doubt as to his feelings for her all through the night. And then again he made sure she hadn’t forgotten the following morning too before she left to pick Sammy up from the airport.

Ari collected Maya, as arranged, from the summer holiday camp run by her school and then, throwing caution to the wind, took her to Maria’s to see not only Hannah, but Sammy and the family. Hannah was surprised, but pleased to see them both and hugged Maya tight as the girl threw herself at her, chatting away about her day. They ate a lovely dinner, courtesy of Maria, and later, retired to the shared garden in the warm, July air. 

As Maya sat with Sammy, who was telling her stories about the states and Rachel’s kids, Ari found himself watching Hannah. She was sat with her mom and Ethan, the three of them sipping wine as the dusk drew in. It wasn’t long before the first little twinkles around the tree flashed through the darkness, signalling the fireflies had come out to play. 

Ari’s mind quickly travelled back to when he first met Hannah, how those little bugs had been present in the garden, earning her the nickname. His nickname for her, which had stuck and become a term of his love for her, symbolised by the pendant round her neck. It was that pendant, or more specifically how he had given her that pendant, which had fixed the idea on how to present her with the sparkling sapphire and diamond ring on her finger…

It was a Thursday morning, and Hannah walked into the bedroom after her morning shower. Ari looked up from where he was fastening up his short sleeved shirt and smiled as she grinned back at him. 

“You really do suit that colour, pretty sure Ethan’s secretary will approve.”

“Ethan’s secretary?” Ari continued, stopping two buttons under the collar.

“Yeah, that’s what I said Lobo.” 

“Ethan’s secretary is nearly a hundred years old, Firefly.” Ari rolled his eyes with a chuckle, his hands on his hips as Hannah frowned.

“Well who was the young, blonde girl at her desk the other day when I called in?” She picked up her hairbrush from the top of the chest of drawers that served as her vanity unit.

“Lorraine? She’s an intern, Mrs Goldman is training her.”

“She likes you. I can tell.” Hannah hummed, combing out her locks which had been piled on top of her head to prevent them getting wet.

Ari rolled his eyes as Hannah pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail. “Whatever.”

“You can whatever me all you want,” Hannah sang as she picked up a bottle of lotion and sat on the bed, “I can sense these things.”

Ari snorted, looking down at his girl as she sat on the bed applying lotion to her legs. “You getting all territorial on me?”

“Do I need to?”

“Don’t be an ass!” Ari snorted, leaning down to kiss her. 

As they moved around the room, Ari took his time, a lot longer than usual, dragging his morning routine out as long as possible. If Hannah noticed he was making a meal out of tidying his beard up, something he had taken to doing since returning to civilisation, she didn’t notice.

He was stalling for one reason, and one reason only. The surprise that was waiting for her in her underwear drawer.

After what seemed like an age, she crossed the room and pulled it open. Ari held his breath as she reached in for a pair of panties, but instead she gasped, he hand flying to her mouth.

Bingo.

When Hannah spun around, the red, velvet box in her hand, Ari was waiting on one knee, beaming up at her. “Still wanna marry me, Firefly?”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and she nodded, her voice thick with emotion, “yes, you know I do!”

“Had to ask with a ring, sweetheart.”

He watched as she opened it, her mouth dropping open once more as she stared at the ring. 

“Lobo, it’s gorgeous… I… I love it!”

As Ari rose to his feet, he sighed with relief, “good, ‘cause I had a hard time finding something worthy of my girl.”

“It reminds me of the ocean,” she smiled up at him, “and your eyes.”

“Kinda why I bought it, the ocean that is.” Ari smiled as he took the ring from the box, slipping it over her knuckle, watching as the sapphire settled at the base of her finger. “Hannah Maria Navon, I love you, baby girl.”

Hannah glanced at the ring before she beamed, her hands cupping his cheeks, “and I love you, Ari David Levinson.”

Ari smirked a little at the memory, they were totally late for work after getting a little ‘distracted’ so to speak celebrating their engagement once more, only this time in a bed and not the back of a shitty jeep in the Sudanese desert. 

“Dad?” Maya bounced into his lap, drawing a huff from him as she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs, “Are those fireflies?”

“They are Munch.” He nodded, kissing her head as she watched them zipping around. “Can you see now why I call Hannah my Firefly?”

She grinned, “yip!”

Hannah, who had been watching them, cleared her throat. “Ari, it’s getting late. Shouldn’t you two be heading back to your apartment?”

Ari looked at her pointedly. “Our apartment, sweetheart.”

Hannah was about to shoot a response back but then remembered Maya was there so she merely sighed. “Ari, look, you shouldn’t even be here now anyway. It’s not worth the argument if she finds out.”

“Why can’t we stay here, dad? I wanna stay with Han!” Maya piped up and Hannah groaned a little, shooting Ari a look.

“Because Han needs to stay with Sammy tonight, she’s not seen him for a while. You can stay some other time, okay?”

“I’m not gonna say anything to Mom if that’s what you scared of.”

At that, Ari and Hannah exchanged a look. “Why do you say that? Why would we be scared?” He asked and Maya shrugged.

“I heard Mom say some things.”

“What things, Munchkin?” Ari smoothed her long hair back and waited for her to reply.

“Well, I was upset, because at first I thought Hannah didn’t like me anymore as she always left when I stayed over. But one day last week, I heard Mom tell Grandma on the phone she had made you and Hannah spend the weekends apart because I was with you.” Maya paused and looked at Hannah, “Is that why you don’t stay with us at the apartment?”

Hannah blinked, she was stuck. She didn’t want to lie but also didn’t want to start bad mouthing Sarah in front of Maya, no matter how tempting. “Erm, it’s, well it’s complicated, sweetie. You and your dad need to spend time together. But I promise you it’s absolutely not because I don’t like you. I do, I love you very much.”

At that Maya stood up and launched herself at Hannah.  “I love you too, Han.”

Ari and Hannah could do nothing but exchange a look, which Hannah broke as she leaned down to hug Maya, tears visible in her eyes.

And it left Ari feeling even more like shit than he already did.

No, he had to fix this, even if it meant pulling Sarah up on her attitude despite Hannah asking him not to. Whilst he understood Sarah’s anger, and that she had every right to direct it at him, the fact that it was clearly having an impact on Maya was something he couldn’t let slide.

With a sigh, he stood up, instructing Maya to bid everyone good night. Before he left, he pulled Hannah into a kiss, his hands cupping her face.

“I’m gonna fix this,” he whispered against her lips, “trust me, baby.”

“I do.” She sniffed a little, her nose bumping his. “Go, go on. I’ll see you Sunday.”

As they walked the few blocks home, Maya’s hand locked in Ari’s, he was only partially listening to his daughter as she spoke. 

“Dad!” Her voice drew him from his thoughts about how exactly he was going to approach the subject with his soon to be ex-wife. He glanced down at her.

“What?”

“We’re you listening to a word I just said?”

“Honestly, no!”

“Daaaaaad!” She whined and Ari chuckled.

 “I’m sorry baby, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that I should get Hannah something for luck.”

“What do you mean?”

 “Well, Mom was talking to Auntie Louisa, and she said that Hannah was going to need plenty of luck being married to you so…”

Ari took a deep breath, anger flashing through his system, rolling his eyes. “Oh, did she?”

“Yup.” Maya nodded.

“And, do you think Hannah’s gonna need luck?”

Maya looked at him, and grinned cheekily. “Well, you are an idiot!”

“Rude!” Ari narrowed his eyes playfully, “mind you, technically, you might look more like your mom but you’re half me. Guess that makes you half an idiot, huh?”

Maya went to dig him in the ribs and with a chuckle, Ari swung her up and onto his shoulders. Her hands tangled in his hair as she giggled, before she leaned down, fingers threading into his beard.

“Han’s right, you do look like a wolf.”

Ari laughed, his hands tightening around his daughter’s ankles as her heels lightly bounced against his chest with each step he took.

#leave no one behind #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson x original female character #Ari Levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #red sea diving resort #red sea diving resort fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

[seoracle]

DRIVERS LICENSE; ii

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, Smut 

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right…But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Mature themes, Dry-humping and Drinking, Angst warning

A/N: part three will conclude this series, thank you for the support!

“So Y/N, I’ll only ask one question on the topic but...What attracted you to Bang Chan?” 

“Well, everything really.” You say with a fond smile. “When we first met I had just moved to Sydney and he took care of me. I think I started liking him then, But I only confessed when we were both trainees.” 

“How cute!” The interviewer gushes, fanning herself. “I hope you two have many happy days to come.”

Things had been jam-packed since the news of you and Chan had come out, his fandom had been more welcoming than you had expected and left lots of sweet comments under your social media accounts. You hadn’t done any interviews until today, just music shows or performances. You also hadn’t actually seen or spoken to him since it all went down, not even at the meeting.

In fairness you had both become extremely busy, and constantly were a hot topic for netizens. Your fame had skyrocketed even more so than it originally did, you had now become the ambassador of a major brand and already had a performance booked for the end of year awards with a brand new song.

Your mind went back to your conversation with Chan and how quick you had been to blurt out hurtful words that you no longer meant. 

You knew it was up to you to reach out, but admitting your actions were over the top isn’t something you’re ready to do. You hadn’t technically lied but calling him a sellout was a low blow, and although he wasn’t an angel he wouldn’t say something like that to you. 

Today is a better day than any to deliver your reluctant apology, a fake date is scheduled for a popular book store that recently finished an extension for their in store cafe.You dressed casually and made sure to bring your mask and matching black baseball hat, along with Tims Tams.

Even though it’s only 1pm, the sky is dim and dreary which makes the walk to the cafe a bit more nerve-wracking. What if he chews you out before you can get a word in? He was always good at that. The scent of arabica coffee beans brings you to your senses and you walk in before you can make a run for it and never return, goodbye idol life, au revoir pilates and adiós to Christopher Bang.

“You actually came.” A voice remarks, making you squeal in surprise. 

“What the fuck?!” You screech, placing a hand over your heart to try calm it’s rapid beating.

He opens the door, smiling in amusement at your terror. You settle in a corner with a large bright window, perfect for paparazzi and incase you nervous retch. Chan heads to the counter and comes back with a double shot Americano and a Green Tea Latte.

“Thanks.” You murmur sheepishly, feeling like a complete asshole for lashing out at him.

“I wanted to run something by you, well, to clarify something…” He begins to explain, waiting for your nod of approval before he begins. “I didn’t even know Seungah, or ‘Mijoo’ properly until we broke up. I wouldn’t hurt you like that, I know I still did but I just wanted you to understand.”

You’re taken aback by him not being mad at you for two weeks ago, even though he has every right to be. If he had said half the things you had said he wouldn’t know any peace for the rest of his life.

“Thank you for clarifying, But I should be apologising…” You began hesitantly, did he want you to just move on and say nothing? Still, you’re not that person anymore. “I was way out of line to say all that stuff about you, which wasn’t true at all. You worked hard to get where you are and I’m happy for you, if anyone deserves the world it’s you.” 

While he processes your words with his mouth ajar, you push the Tim Tams to his side of the table. His eyes light up and he rips into them immediately, dunking one into his warm coffee and although you find it semi-revolting, you smile.

You spend the next half hour sharing the biscuits and stories of wardrobe mishaps and what you’ve both been up to in the last few years. It doesn’t take long before you feel comfortable in his presence, not fully but more than you thought possible after all that went down.

Chan ends up finishing the packet and relaxes into his chair with a content sigh, you can’t help but smile at the sight. It quickly fades when you spot paparazzi in heards outside the cafe.

“They found us, totally not like our companies tipped them off.” Chan comments, turning back to you after squinting at them for a bit.

“Quick, act surprised.” You order, as you start making over-exaggerated expressions to the cameras.

The flashing of cameras is nothing new to either of you at this point and you head upstairs to the book section, scanning from classics, science fiction and biographies of people you’d never heard of. Chan spots a section of books with their covers hidden under wrapping and the descriptions written in black ink. You decide on a poetry book from the 1700s with a little sun drawn on the brown paper, Chan picks a Sci-Fi thriller and you shake your head knowingly.

Afterwards, Chan walks you home through the playground near your tiny apartment and makes small talk about music, he picks your brain about melodies and what your favourite synth sounds are. It’s hard to believe less than a month ago you wanted to rip his head off. 

“Let’s sit for a bit.” Chan says, situating himself on a swing.

It doesn’t take you long to join him on the swing to his right, if there’s nothing worse than one idiot on a swing it’s two idiots on swings. Instead of chatting you focus on seeing how high up you can go and Chan watches, shaking his head in embarrassment.

“You’re an actual child.” He teases, grabbing a hold of the rope to slow you down. 

“Hey, no fair.” You huff, grounding yourself by using your feet, turning to him with a pout.

He rolls his eyes and ruffles your hair just like he used to, and embarrassingly it makes you feel happy. Just like you used to back when you first met in Sydney and he was all you knew. 

Stop thinking about the past, you say mentally, what’ll It change?

To distract yourself you decide it’s time to go somewhere else, and get up with the intent of forgetting whatever feelings your brain is fabricating. You can hear footsteps behind you and sigh, he’s not letting you go that easy.

“Where are you going?” Chan calls out, finally catching up to you.

“A bar, I assumed you were still on that drinking ban.” You say feigning your intentions of ditching him for your own benefit.

“That ended two years ago,” He replies with a small smile, “What bar exactly?”

“You’ll see.” 

“Y/N….you said a bar, this is a club.” Chan says, stating the obvious. 

It’s a small place just on the outskirts of the bustling city, illuminated by purple and blue with none of the  ridiculous cocktail names, dry humping and reek of Victoria’s Secret perfume you became accustomed to in Seoul. 

“Same difference,” You reply with a shrug, sitting down at an empty velvet sofa. “Wanna be a dear and get us some drinks?”

Chan shakes his head with his usual grin and heads to the counter, you can’t help but notice how buff he’s gotten in the last few years. You look away when he takes the drinks off the counter and focus on the fabric of your ripped jeans instead, fiddling with the loose strings.

“A rum and coke for you and a black russian for me.” He announces, sitting down on the other end of the couch. 

“Perfect choice.” You say thankfully, raising the glass to your lips and taking several gulps.

The blond raises an eyebrow, sipping at his caffeinated cocktail at a more leisurely pace, soon one drink becomes four and a round of shots later you can gladly say any warm fuzzy feelings have been replaced with drunk fuzzy feelings. Chan, who's only had two drinks laughs at your predicament as the bartender cuts you off for the night.

“Chris, order another round!” You instructed giddily, clinging onto his arm.

“Yeah, and carry you home drunk? I don’t think so.” He retorts, finishing his soju.

You grumble incoherencies under your breath, leaning into him and shutting your eyes. He inquisitively still smells the same and carries the same soothing aura that everyone seemed to pick up on. He hums to the song playing and you can feel his chest vibrate when he messes up on a lyric and laughs. The alcohol makes everything seem blurred around the edges and rose-tinged, he puts his arm around you and it all feels right.

“Y/N, Y’Alright?” 

“Yeah, you?” You slur, smiling into his neck, you can feel him chuckle when your eyelashes tickle his skin.

Everything becomes hazy after that, you hardly remember Chan helping you into the back of a taxi or guiding you to your front door. He searches your bag for the front door key and then your jacket, you giggle drunkenly, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Back pocket,” You state with an amused grin.

Chan reaches down into the back pocket of your jeans and the contact makes your cheeks redden and you inhale deeply. He doesn’t seem to notice and clasps onto the key, before he takes the key out you place your hand around his wrist and hold it there. He looks at you with an uncertain glance, his eyes searching yours for confirmation of some sort, arching into his touch gives him the clarification he needs and he presses his lips to yours in a hungry, intrusive kiss. 

You bring your hands up to his hair and tug on it lightly, as if to bring him even closer if possible. Chan groans into your mouth at the feeling and you take advantage of the moment and control the kiss while he eagerly follows, one hand firmly squeezing your ass while and starts to grind against you. The only sounds you hear are his ragged breathing and the quiet whimper that leaves him when you pull apart to nip at his jaw.

“Y/N,” He pleads, rutting against your thigh with desperation. You answer his pleas, allowing him between your thighs, he kisses your ear appreciatively and helps you up onto the low metal shelf by your doorway for better access grind against your sex.

He whines profanities into your neck when you meet his ruts in a more languid pace, it only makes him more desperate for you. You sigh in pleasure at the sight, although your vision is hazy his swollen lips and furrowed brows are as clear as day. You can tell how close he is by how unsteady his breathing is, he cries out your name repeatedly and you coo at him.

“Pathetic, I haven’t even wrapped my hand around your cock and you’re ready to blow your load.” You mock, pretending you aren’t at the edge yourself.

“Ah, shit..!” He bellows, hot breath hitting your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

You watch his mouth fall agape as he finally reaches his peak, his blonde hair is plastered against his face and his skin has a sheen that suits him well. Chan gasps as you start up again, the overstimulation making him writhe, he slips one hand down the front of your jeans, which surprises you because you still feel secure being held up with just one arm. You rut against his hand, he knows exactly where to touch and your moans only spur him on until you finally reach your own climax, biting down on his shoulder when you do.

Nothing is said while you both collect yourselves, Chan drops you down and presses his forehead to yours while he catches his breath. The alcohol starts to wear off you and fully realise what’s happened and take your keys out of your back pocket, your hands shake and it takes you a while to get the key in and twist it.

“Y/N?” He calls out, sounding helpless. 

“I’m sorry, Chris.” 

Ignoring the downcast expression on his face you go inside, looking at him once more and telling him you’re sorry again and that he should leave. When you slam the door, he calls out for you to open it again, fifteen minutes later he leaves and you’re in the shower crying. You had just done to Mijoo what had been your biggest fear, but she would have never done that to you.

She was a good person and you were disgusting with no morals.

How the fuck had it all happened so fast? Meeting Chris again, loathing him, fake dating him, feeling emotions for him and now practically fucking him? Nothing had really changed, even before the breakup it had always been you crawling back to him and him feeling as if gravity was pulling you two back together just to tear you away again. ‘Cruel fate’ he called it, you call it nonsense to make him feel better.

Whatever it was, it needed to stop or finally be faced.

It’s just after 12pm the next day when you wake up, everything hurts and you try to piece together what little you remember before that thing with Chris. You groan into the palms of your hands and try to think of a solution, you couldn’t ignore or avoid him, at least not forever. Why did you ever agree to fake a relationship anyways? If only you could turn back time and tell your CEO and the entire JYP entourage to get fucked.

A buzzing under your pillow snaps you back to your senses, realising it’s your phone you slide your thumb across the screen to accept the call. 

“Hello?”  You ask in a hoarse tone.

“Check literally any news outlet.” A familiar voice says in a monotone voice.

“Iris, Should I be worried?”

Iris doesn’t reply and you decide to check Twitter, upon opening it you’re bombarded with notifications that all lead back to a photo of you and Chan making out. The picture has clearly been scanned to make the quality better, it’s grainy but even you can see how easy it is to tell who is in the photo. Dread fills your body at the thought of what management would say, this could compromise all of your hard work.

“I thought you were done with him,” Iris sighs, “God, Y/N... it took you years to get over him, and he has a real relationship.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You reply quietly, ignoring the sting of her words.

“I love you, okay? But I’m so worried you’ll end up hurt again.” She admits, you can hear her tapping her nails against wood, a nervous habit. “Just be careful, I’ll call you later.”

As the call ends you sigh with a smile, typical Iris trying to show she cares while remaining unfiltered. You quickly realise there's no point in hiding from any of this and get ready for what you’re sure will be an eventful day. 

When you arrive at the company building you’re quick to sneak past the secretary and into San’s office, he greets you with a suggestive look.

“You’re so lucky the apartment’s security spotted and escorted them out.” San remarks, tongue pressing against his cheek.

“I know, don’t worry Iris got to the lecture first.” You retort, pinching the bridge of your nose once you sit down on his uncomfortable sofa, damn hangovers.

San pulls open a drawer and passes you a bottle of aspirin, which falls to the floor thanks to your slightly altered (and loss of ) coordination. You mumble words of gratitude and dry swallow two.

“So how mad is everyone?” You ask meekly, not meeting his eyes.

“Well, no one really is. It got you more buzz and sales but there is a broken-hearted girl to think about.”

Shit, Mijoo.

You get up in a flash and take San’s unopened energy drink with you, as you exit his office you hear him yelling at you.

“Why does your apartment have shelves at the front door anyways?!”

It’s when you get outside and the fresh air hits that you realise you have no idea what to do. Woolim is a twenty minute walk at best, you have no idea if Mijoo will even be there but it’s worth a shot. On the way you stop to get two cans of iced coffee and hope she’s still feeling kind after what you pulled last night.

The Woolim building is finally in sight and you push the door open and are stunned to see Mijoo on the other side. Her eyes are glassy and swollen and she isn’t giving off her usual bright aura, but still she smiles at you.

“Hey, trying to hit me?” She jokes with a wry laugh.

“Mijoo...can we talk?” 

“Um…” She looks anywhere but your eyes. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

“Seungah, five minutes is all I need. Then if you want I’ll never talk again.” You plead, she sighs but accepts, turning back and leading you to the private back ‘garden’ which is just concrete and a bench.

“Thank you.” You say, bowing your head a little. She laughs and takes a coffee out of the plastic bag when you sit down.

“Formalities aren’t needed between us, what do you want?”

Her bluntness catches you off guard, up close you can see mascara has seeped around her eye bags and dried up. She definitely knew what had happened but wanted to hear it from you, which petrifies you. How are you supposed to casually say the truth and not get punched in the face?

“I know you saw the picture but you need to hear it from me,” You begin, licking your lips. “I kissed Chan, he didn’t return my feelings and he’s probably going to try to take half the blame.”

Mijoo’s facial expression doesn’t change and she takes a sip of coffee, folding her lips into a thin line after she swallows the bitter liquid. 

“I don’t think he ever got over you.” She admits in a downcast tone. “When we started dating he told me he’d always love you a little bit, I just didn’t think you'd come back for him.”

“I didn’t come back for him,” You clarify, “I had no intentions of...any of this. I’m really sorry and I won’t come between you two again. It’s strictly business from now on, you have my word.”

“Why are you so keen on keeping us together?” She says, stunned.

“I don’t want to be the reason anyone is hurt.” 

“What about you then? Won’t this hurt you?”

You don’t reply, instead returning the same kind smile she had given you. Of course it’ll hurt you, but you can’t bear the weight of hurting anyone the way you did, even Chris. For so long it was all you wanted, for him to feel the pain you did that night in his car.

A week passes by in a flash, between schedules and training you haven’t had any time to dwell on Chan which is nice for once. San and Iris make sure to keep you up to date on what he’s been up to since you shooed him away like a bad dog.

Luckily fake media reports of you two being spotted have been enough to keep the ‘break up’ rumours at bay for now. Eventually you will have to face him, but if Mijoo’s Instagram story is any indication, it’s a happy one of them and their daily coffee trips. Meanwhile all your days are spent in the dance studio, trying to perfect your end of year performance.

Your newest track took two weeks alone to record, it was yet again a song you hadn’t intended on releasing. The lyrics were about being drunk, horny and sad which are emotions you felt most days. The choreography was the most challenging part, primarily because you weren’t much of a dancer to begin with. 

“Perfect!” Your teacher, Hyolyn praises with a satisfied smile.

You collapse on the floor and try to catch your breath, taking a second to gulp down water. Although it’s  hard work, it was extremely rewarding. According to San, you’re predicted to win two awards and nominated for four which was insane considering last year you were #9 on ‘Top 10 least watched debuts’. 

“How close am I to acing this?”You ask, completely drained.

“I’d give it a week.” Hyolyn replies after taking a second to evaluate you.

Groaning, you lie down on the hardwood floors and shut your eyes. The performance was in nine days, giving you little to no time to rest. Iris also had you booked for three days of practicing your makeup for the show, which included intricate and trendy tattoo art all over your arms and littered over any other revealed areas, for hair you would be wearing a wig, lighter than your own hair but similar to how it looked in a recent magazine spread. 

It was all down to you to ace this performance, and you only had one shot.

“Y/N? Y/N L/N!” 

San’s voice snaps you back to your senses, he guides you up from the floor and gives you a once-over and decides you look fine. Then, without a word, drags you down through the busy city and into a quaint cafe, filled with greenery and flowers galore. You spot Wooyoung’s blonde hair behind the counter and smile knowingly, of course.

“Am I here to third wheel?” You joke, elbowing his ribs.

“Shut up, We’re here for you to experience a delectable latte topped with chocolate art and if you’re good I’ll buy you a bean bun.” 

You sit down on an empty chair without a word, smiling up at him. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for a fresh bean bun, especially if it’s free. San goes up to the counter, his laugh echoes around the small area when Wooyoung makes a little joke involving word play. Minutes later, a steamy cup of coffee is in front of you with a cute little bunny made of white liquid and you can’t help but look down in amazement.

“Good, right?” Wooyoung beams, full of well-deserved confidence.

“Amazing,” You gush, taking a sip reluctantly, not wanting to ruin the illustration. 

Wooyoung takes a bow and walks back to the counter, brewing up another order in no time, San watches intently resting his chin in the palm of his hand. What an idiot, you think, although you’re slightly envious no one looks at you that way. 

Several more cups and bean buns later, you leave the lovebirds to return home for some well needed rest. Today is the only actual real chance of resting up before the real work begins, even the thought makes your body ache. But all that fades away when you see a familiar face at your door, Chan.

“Chan?” You say bewildered, “Why are you here?”

“Can we talk?” He asks, meeting your eyes for a brief second before looking away again.

“Okay.”

Five minutes later he’s sitting across the coffee table, stirring a cup of instant coffee and not saying a word. What is there to say? You were both drunk exes longing to relive old times, Yes you would always love him but he wasn’t yours anymore, he hadn’t been for years.

You weren’t the same person, the cheap electric guitar you’d adored has spun into a customised Fender, his dark curls had been swapped for blonde locks that hung across his face. You had loved and lost him, found him and begun the cycle again.

“Why did you try to lie to Seungah?” 

“She’s your girlfriend, you clearly care about her and I didn’t want you to lose that because of a stupid mistake.” You say, even though it was no mistake on your behalf.

Chan laughs dryly in response, eyes becoming unreadable and dark.

“You didn’t want me to fuck you that night?” 

Before you can reply he's standing up, walking towards you and clearly loving that in your seated position he towers over you. He notices your thighs are shut as much as they can be and coos. 

“Is that all it takes, huh?” He says, mocking your tone from that night. “As much as you love pushing me around and belittling me, you love to be put in your place don’t you?”

A strained sound leaves your throat and you try to push it away, the feeling of wanting him to be in control, to be vulnerable for him. It’s a feeling you’ve only felt a handful of times and always with him. You knew he was just frustrated and feeling rejected, if anything did happen you’d wake up alone to a regretful voicemail.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret, I would call you dumb but that would turn you on.” You finally retort, standing up to fully enjoy the flush of humiliation come over his face.

“Know your place.”  

“Kiss me,” He pleads, soft eyes full of stars. “Just once more.”

You swallow thickly, once more is all he’s asking for. Hesitating for a second, you raise your arms and gently take his face into your hands, thumbing over his jaw the way he likes and press your lips against his. The kiss is firm and chaste, much unlike the last one that was filled with hunger and urgency, this...feels final. Neither of you pull away, Chan deepening the kiss more and settling on wrapping his arms around you over his oxygen levels. 

You feel tears starting to pool within your closed eyes and it burns, finally pulling away when it all becomes too much. His warm disposition is so apparent in his teary eyes and it hurts more than ever, you drop your hands from his face and he takes them into his own, a bittersweet feeling coming to the surface.

“Goodbye again, Y/N.” Chan says with a smile, letting go your hands and heading towards the door.

“Goodbye, Chris.” You reply in a faltering tone, turning away as he shuts the door behind him. 

You’re left sobbing on the linoleum floors of your apartment, ignoring various buzzes from your phone hours later when you finally calm down enough to sit on the couch and numbly stare at the flickering TV. Then it comes up on a pop music channel, your face and his with the headline: Bang Chan and Y/N announce break up. 

#skz scenarios #skz chan #skz imagines #skz x you #skz #skz x reader #bang chan angst #stray kids chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan blurbs #bang chan x reader #stray kids blurbs #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Can you save me from this nothing I've become?

Pairing: Kook!JJ x Pogue!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: Life Swap AU. JJ grew up as a sheltered boy in a golden cage in Figure Eight and doesn’t even have a clue how life in the Cut is like. That is until he meets you, the perfect example for life in an abusive household drowning in poverty. 

Warnings: A little bit of sadness, mentions of abuse, mostly fluffy tho

Available on: AO3

A/N: @outabanks​ asked me to write this for her so I tried. It’s a little different from anything else I’ve written so far and it was quite hard to find a tone for JJ now that he didn’t grow up in a physical abusive home and probably wouldn’t react with so much violence. I went with him feeling trapped, lonely and just sad inside due to him more suffering from emotional abuse. Also, switching POVs! Have fun!

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

“Yes, Charlotte, I make sure to pick out my best outfit.” JJ groaned at his stepmother and went to his own bathroom to take a shower.

She was really annoying sometimes but after his mother and father divorced, he had been quick to replace her to maintain the image, dragging his mother’s name through mud in the process.

Figure Eight was a place where you grew up comfortably and never had to worry about a thing, at least on the outside.

JJ had grown up as the typical rich kid, getting everything he wanted. Problem was, he had been showered with money, not love, meaning he was missing what was most important. Back when his mother was still here, she had been the only person to show him what life really meant but she hadn’t been around for too long. Actually, he never got to know why she had left.

When Charlotte had married his father, it got even worse. Money here, fancy clothes there. She had never been a mother to him, she also never even tried as she wasn’t interested in him and only the money his dad had.

Whatever, he didn’t care about her either, he just wished she would leave him in peace once in a while but whenever he planned to go outside and do something she always came running and told him how to dress so he would look the best.

Tomorrow was another charity event and she had been stressing about the right clothes for weeks and he wouldn’t have any of it.

JJ got out of the shower with a sigh, towel around his waist and hair still dripping a little on the floor beneath him. He knew he had a good life, technically but sometimes he wondered how it felt to be a normal kid, growing up downtown or the Cut. He had never been down there actually, only heard that people from the Cut were poor but in comparison to the people from Figure Eight, poor couldn’t be too bad, right?

The reason he had never been down there was his father. He might look like the perfect father on the outside but on the inside, he was rotting away, fueled by his addiction for money and a wealthy lifestyle. One wrong step and JJ would suffer, in either emotional and very rarely physical way.

He was trapped in a golden cage he couldn’t escape until he was old enough which would still take a few more years. He just had to hold on, pretend to like his life when they were in public and just be done with it.

“We’re off then, son. See you tomorrow!” his father yelled from downstairs as JJ got dressed in some loser clothes so he could enjoy his time home alone.

“Yeah, have fun,” he said nonchalantly, not really caring about them leaving to visit the Cameron’s to talk about some preparations for tomorrow.

When he heard the front door shut he let out a sigh of relief and lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. They wouldn’t be back until past midnight, that’s always how it went.

It was the perfect time to think about how lonely he actually was. His parents divorced, his mother not even calling or writing him, his dad only caring about money and his new wife. Friends? Sadly none. Kook Academy wasn’t the place where he wanted to be and he had a hard time blending in. It was a place where everyone was so narcissistic and wanted to show off all they had. Also really competitive people. Who had the bigger car, who had the more expensive outfit, things like that.

The only person he rarely talked to at events was Kiara, a wealthy girl from the neighborhood next to his own. He heard that she was hanging around with the Pogues in the Cut but he never asked her about it. They mostly just saw each other, nodded briefly and started drinking together. He listened to her rambling about saving turtles in a drunken state later on while he made flirty comments she always shut down very quickly. It was a simple way to pass the time while trying to get through the evening.

His father told him to befriend the Cameron’s but to be honest? No. Wheezie was just a little girl, Sarah was the princess around here and he had no desire to walk around with royalty and get judged by only that. Rafe was a dick, he had actually tried to befriend him when they were younger but that boy had massive issues.

So yep, loneliness it was. On the outside, his life was perfect but on the inside he was struggling. One day he would escape, go to the mainland and do his own thing. He wanted to get far away from Outer Banks and his father, all these riches he had. There was enough money on his own bank account to help him get started but JJ wanted to work with his own hands, get dirty, live the life he wanted.

Suddenly he heard a crash in the front yard and he shot up from his bed, opening the door to his balcony and looked outside, trying to see something in the darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to get used to the missing light before he scanned the garden. A vase was shattered to the left and to the right…

Shit!

Someone was face down in their pool and it looked like they weren’t moving.

JJ rushed downstairs and to the garden, quickly jumping in to get the person out. He put the body down next to the pool, slapping the cheek slightly. Luckily enough he had been quick enough and the person was waking up, spitting out a little bit of water.

“I don't think it’s the best time to take a swim,” he said while he sat there on his knees, looking over at the girl that couldn’t be older than he was.

She wasn’t answering, just looking at him for a moment before closing her eyes again, passing out once more.

    When you woke up, you had no idea where you were. The bed under you felt softer than your own and you had a huge headache. Also, you were wearing comfortable clothes for some reason. Still a dream? Maybe.

You slowly opened your eyes, afraid that feeling of warmth would be gone now but it didn’t vanish. As you were looking around you noticed a boy on the ground, wrapped in a blanket and you blinked. 

Looking down at your body told you that you were totally not wearing your own clothes. These were really fine and soft, it almost felt like they were giving you a warm hug.

It took awhile for you to connect the dots but then your face turned white. The boy on the ground had seen you naked.

“Perv!” you suddenly yelled and threw the pillow behind you at him which caused him to stir.

“What the fuck,” he mumbled and got up and for the first time, you got a good look at these blue eyes and the messy, blonde bed hair. “This is what I get for saving your ass?”

Saving your ass? You frowned and now that you thought about it, you had no idea what had happened last night after you ran away from home. You knew you had been drinking to try and stop the pain but then it all went black.

“What do you mean?” you asked and tilted your head a little to the side like a lost puppy.

“Apparently you were either really fond of having a swim or trying to drown yourself in my pool,” he said while he got up, stretching and showing off his body to you. Of course he was not wearing a shirt, why would he. It was too hot for that anyway. He was too hot. Shit, focus!

“I wasn’t drowning myself,” you said even though you wished that had worked.

Silence fell over you for a moment while he just stood there, looking at your miserable form before he rubbed the back of his neck and looked clearly uncomfortable.

“Look, I’ve seen the bruises…,” he started and you looked back at him, clenching your jaw. Of course he had seen the bruises, he had seen you naked and they were quite visible all over your body.

“It’s nothing. Where are my clothes? I want to leave.” You didn’t want to stay here and talk to a stranger that apparently saved you from drowning. Oh. That was probably why you were wearing different clothes, he had taken care of them so you wouldn’t get a cold. Well, not exactly the first thought you had but thank god you still had your virginity.

“Do you need help?” he asked softly and crouched in front the bed which caused you to frown. No one had ever asked you that. It took a long moment before you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You nodded and got out of bed which made him stand up again. He was taller than you were and you bit your bottom lip while looking around in his room some more. This was clearly not the Cut. This looked like a Figure Eight house. Oh god, had you wandered that far?

“Can I make you breakfast at least? My parents are still asleep,” he said and you chewed on your lip a little before you nodded. Your stomach was dying inside as you hadn't eaten in two days because your aunt prefered to let you starve while she spent all her money on alcohol and drugs. You wished your parents were still alive but that wasn’t an option.

“Alright, wait here, I’ll bring you some up.” With that he was already gone and you went back under the soft blanket. If you would stand up more your head was probably going to explode and you would fall due to it’s spinning non stop. Laying down was good. Sitting upright a little was good too.

You had never seen this boy before which wasn’t a surprise given that you had been to Figure Eight only one or two times with Kiara. The Pogues were the only reason to get out of bed in the morning but currently, they were all doing their own thing which was fine but also made you sad a little.

The blonde boy was up quicker than you thought and he put the tray down on your legs with a smile.

“I’m JJ, by the way,” he said as he grabbed the chair from his desk and rolled it over, taking one of the plates from the try to put some food on it.

You blinked at all the food in front of you and you were sure you hadn’t seen that many at once, at least not something you were allowed to eat. Bread buns, scrambled egg, different kinds of sausages and grapes. He must have noticed how skinny you were.

“I’m (y/n),” you simply said while staring at the food, not even sure if you could eat but when you looked at him eating and he smiled at you, you couldn’t stop yourself.

It was a feast for you. Did he always have breakfasts like that? God, what a lucky person.

“Nice to meet you, (y/n). Wanna tell me now why you were swimming in my pool at midnight?” he asked and grinned a little. He wanted to get details but he didn’t want to completely ruin the mood, something you could appreciate.

You didn’t know him and you weren’t easily trusting a person but he saved you, made you breakfast and you would probably never see him again, so you kinda owed him, right? Also he had already seen the bruises and given all the books he had in his room, he seemed to be a smart boy that had figured it all out on his own already.

“I was trying to get away from life,” you mumbled with your mouth full and he raised an eyebrow at that. “Got beat up, didn’t eat for two days, ran away to drink the pain away and then it went all black but it seems like I wanted to get a look at a life I’ll never have and then I somehow ended up in your pool. I wasn’t trying to drown myself, I promise.”

Well, the mood he had been trying to maintain was totally ruined by your words now. You spoke them so casually like they were no big deal but you saw how his eyes widened and he stopped eating while you still continued. Yes, your life was pure shit but it would be okay one day. One day you’d get out of your aunt’s death grip and get the life you deserved.

“I-,” he started but didn’t seem to be able to finish so you waved off. 

“It’s fine. It happens. Something you can’t understand, no offense.” He was living a good life full of privileges and riches, of course he wouldn’t understand what you went through and that was okay. You didn’t want his pity, he didn’t seem to care about people at the Cut anyway. 

“I might not understand your life but you obviously don’t understand my life either,” he chuckled and took some grapes to eat. You raised both eyebrows at him, what did he mean? Apparently he could read the face you were making and continued. “Life here isn’t all that great either. I may not suffer from a lot of physical abuse but emotional one. Being rich isn’t always good, ya know.”

“I’d kill for being rich,” you blurted out and it made him laugh. He had a beautiful laugh but it also sounded really sad for some reason.

“Yeah, that’s probably how a lot of people here became rich.” That made you laugh too, he was probably right. You knew a few Kooks that looked like they had killed for their wealth.

You both ate in silence and when you were done, he put the tray away to look at you with a look that you couldn’t quite place.

“Where are my clothes?” you asked to break the stare and he nodded.

“I’ll get them, one second,” he said and walked over into a room which was...his bathroom? God, he even had his own bathroom. What the fuck.

JJ came out with them again and they looked so much cleaner than before. “Did you wash them?” you asked because it didn’t look like it was just the pool water.

“Yeah, they looked like they needed it,” he said and put them over the bed. When you grabbed them you felt how soft they were now after the cleaning and you smiled a little to yourself. They also smelled really good.

You got out of the bed and pressed past him into the bathroom so you could get changed. When you came out of it again you felt old and new at the same time. Thankfully, the headache was slowly fading away.

“Alright, thanks for saving me, I’ll be off then,” you exclaimed as you had occupied him enough now. He already knew more about you than a stranger should and you had to get out of here before he tried to play your savior.

You had already a hand at the doorknob when he reached out to you, grabbing your arm to stop you from leaving. Of course he had to do that.

“I know this isn’t any of my business but if you ever need help, come here, okay? I’ll try my best,” he said and normally you would huff at such an offer as you had been disappointed so many times in your life but for some reason, he sounded so absolutely genuine that you nodded. You believed him but you also had no desire to get back here any time soon. Figure Eight wasn’t the place you wanted to be, it only reminded you of what could have been but wasn’t.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he let go of you.

    Two weeks had passed and he couldn’t get the girl out of his head. There had been something that made him want to save her even though she seemed to be the kind of girl that didn’t want saving. 

Something deep inside of him was screaming at him to find you and that’s exactly what he did right now. His father would kill him but he didn’t care anymore. It was like there was a strange bond that was pulling him closer to you and away from the life he didn’t want.

The Cut was different than he had expected. During his sheltered life, downtown had been the only area he had visited, it was almost like an invisible wall that his father had placed here, not allowing him to go any further. As a kid he had been curious about it but after a while of useless attempts to convince his father he had given up on getting to know the rest of the island.

He couldn’t say why he didn’t try again now that he was older. Maybe he really wasn’t interested anymore after all those years. Maybe it was his father’s voice that was echoing in his head the closer he got to that invisible wall.

Until he broke through it. He drove past that magical line that had kept him and suddenly he saw what was really going on. They weren’t just a little less fortunate than the people from Figure Eight. His dad had lied to him and he felt sick for a moment.

He drove past small shacks, some looking like they would get blown away by the next storm. They were just poor and lived in poverty. Well, maybe not all of them but the further he drove away from the downtown area the more sad and wild it looked around him. There was also a strange feeling of freedom to it, he couldn’t really describe it.

Figure Eight was all beautiful houses and big mansions, perfectly cut grass, cars and pools. Everything had to be perfect but this? Lots of people didn’t care about their grass, he saw some old cars and trucks, some people had a small boat but nothing compared to the yacht his father owned. It was so different and he hated himself for never coming here. When did he become such an ignorant person?

Something suddenly jumped out of the bushes to the right and he hit the breaks, barely stopping in front of the person who was standing right in front of his car, looking straight at him.

“What the fuck?!” the girl yelled and he would always recognize that voice, it had almost burned into his soul. She was so different from everything he knew. Looks like the string that was pulling him had reached its destination.

    Great, now some idiot tried to run you over while you were busy running away from Barry. This couldn’t get any worse. You were about to keep running when you saw who got out of the car. It was the blonde pretty boy with the sad eyes from Figure Eight that you kept dreaming about for the last two weeks. A wink of destiny? Either way, it looked like he was your escape.

JJ got out of the car and smiled at you, slowly coming over to you, probably wanting to make sure you were okay but he barely scraped you. 

“JJ?” you asked in disbelief and he chuckled a little. It was weird to see him here, out of place, so far away from home.

“If I wouldn’t know any better I’d say you tried to get him by a car this time,” he said and laughed when he saw you glare. You really didn’t have time for this bullshit. Yes, being dead would be better sometimes given your circumstances but right now you’d prefer to prevent that.

You threw a look behind you and then back at him. “In the car,” you hissed and shoved him back to his side of the car while you got in on the other side.

“Drive,” you said and looked out to the right side where you had been coming from but he looked at you confused.

Barry came out of the bushes and you turned around to JJ in a split second, pressing your lips against his, hoping to make Barry think that it was just a rich couple that came down here to make out. He wasn’t the brightest candle on the cake after all.

When you saw him leave out of the corner of your eye you sighed into the kiss but only slowly moved away. JJ’s lips felt good, pressed against yours like it was the only thing he had ever wanted.

Reality hit and you pulled back, swallowing slightly. “Sorry uhm...just needed to distract that guy,” you mumbled and licked your lips, still tasting him.

“What was that about?” he asked and seemed a little dumbfounded by the sudden kiss.

“I was running from our local drug dealer,” you explained like it was the most normal thing to do. Maybe you had stolen him some money but you only wanted food and you knew where he stored it so you might as well just borrow it. For a very long time.

“You could have just hidden on the backseat, you know,” he teased and wiggled his eyebrows which caused you to slap him slightly against the shoulder.

“It was a distraction kiss, nothing else. Don’t let it get to your head,” you said ang took a deep breath when you felt your body relax.

“What now? Any place I can drive you to?” he suddenly asked and you looked over at him, thinking for a moment. You’d be safe with John B and the others as you wanted to meet up later anyway. You nodded and gave him some quick directions.

“So, what are you doing here?” you asked and watched him drive. He had such a pretty face if those eyes wouldn’t be so sad. You wondered why he was like that, he had everything you could wish for and yet, he was still so sad.

“Actually, I was looking for you. I also had never been down to the Cut, my father always keeping me from it so I wanted to take a look.” His voice was so smooth and you had the urge to just press your lips against his once more.

What the fuck was going on in your head? God, that needed to stop, he was a Kook after all. No good came from them.

“Why were you looking for me?” It was beyond you why he would come here only to find you. You were just some girl he had saved from her own stupidity. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny that you hoped to see him again shortly after you had left his place back then. There had been something about him that was pulling you closer and those dreams you had weren’t for nothing. He was special in a way you couldn’t describe just yet.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I just had the feeling I had to,” he said and it confirmed your feelings. He also didn’t really know what he was doing here, just like you didn’t know why you wanted him here.

It was a strange connection that had formed within a couple of hours two weeks ago, a connection that didn’t break. Normally people meet other people, establish some kind of relationship between them. Acquaintances, friends, work colleagues, stuff like that. Sometimes you just meet a stranger, talk to them and then break the connection off.

That’s what you thought this would be but the connection was still there, it was deep in your bones and your mind.

Stupid Kook, about to turn your world around.

You arrived at the Chateau where John B was already coming over before JJ could turn the motor off. He obviously wasn’t used to such cars arriving at his place, that’s why you got out first.

“It’s me!” you yelled and JB visibly relaxed before taking another look at the car and the boy coming out of there.

“Who’s that?” he asked and frowned at you but you just waved off. 

“That’s JJ. He saved me, two times to be exact. He’s cool.” You waved JJ over and he followed you step to John B. You gave him a quick hug and then saw how JJ held out his hand.

You glared at John B and he groaned slightly before shaking JJ’s hand.

“I don’t know why you’d bring a Kook here,” he grumbled and you hit his arm slightly.

“I told you, he is cool. He’s pool boy.” You might have mentioned that accident to your friends without any names or mentioning that your blonde savior was a Kook. Oops.

“Pool boy?” a female voice said while coming out of the house and you waved at Kie.

“Kiara?” JJ suddenly said and looked over at her, watching how she stopped in her tracks. You looked between the two of them forth and back.

“JJ?” Yup, they totally knew each other.

“Donkey?” you threw in and laughed a little at your Shrek reference, causing the others to laugh too.

“You know each other?” John B said in choir and the both nodded.

“Yeah, he’s the guy that keeps me grounded at all the Kook events. We drink and make it through the night somehow. He’s cool,” Kiara explained and JJ nodded in agreement.

“See, told you,” you teased John B and he just rolled your eyes. He sometimes acted like a big brother when he wasn’t drowning in his own shit.

“Are you staying? I know what it feels like to be a Kook, so I might as well show you my escape”, Kiara said and JJ rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

You laughed a little because he seemed so out of place right now but you could tell he probably needs an escape from life once in a while.

“Okay, show me,” JJ said and you grinned at him. It was a reckless thing to do, taking a Kook in but technically, Kiara was one too and if she and JJ got along, he would also get along with Pope and John B. It might just take a while but it would be okay.

There was this feeling inside of you that was telling you to help him, to make his eyes look sad and to hear a genuine laugh from him.

#jj x reader #jj maybank #jj imagine #outer banks imagine #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #obx netflix #kook!jj #pogue!reader #prompt

[vintagedolan]

cross country (gbd)

description: when you get stuck in california during quarantine with a dwindling lease at the dolan’s house, grayson wants nothing more than for you to get to new jersey with him

word count: 4.5k

warnings/tags: fluff, this is literally um the softest thing i’ve written???, quarantine/COVID, grayson spoiling Y/N, you get the picture hehe

feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy, send me some feedback and I’ll give you my eternal love :)

You never wanted to lift another box in your whole life, that was for damn sure. There was sweat running down your forehead as you lifted the next one, carrying the cardboard all the way through the house into the living room, which was becoming a huge pile of everything that the twins had acquired over their years in LA. 

The plan was simple: the boys were going home to jersey to see their mom before the quarantine got too serious, and then they were coming right back because they needed to find a place in LA, seeing that their lease was ending. 

Well, needless to say, that plan had gone to absolute shit. And that meant you were thousands of miles away from Grayson, and had three days before you would be homeless. 

Lovely. 

The nice thing about it was that you didn’t have much time to mope - since the boys were still in jersey, all the packing was left up to you. And while you were efficient, it didn’t mean it wasn’t a lot of fucking work. 

You went back into Ethan’s room, getting another box of clothes. As you walked, your phone vibrated in the pocket on the side of your leggings. You knew who it was, but you waited until you got to the living room and sat the box down to answer it. 

A facetime from Grayson. That brightened your mood considerably. 

When you swiped over, you immediately relaxed a bit at the sight of his face. His hair was getting so long during quarantine, and it was pushed back with a headband he’d borrowed from his mom, no doubt. He was in a tshirt, which was different than the rest of the times he’d called you. Which was about ten times a day.

“Hey baby,” you smiled at him, catching your breath as you walked back to your shared room. As much as you wanted to sit down and relax and talk to your boyfriend, there wasn’t enough time for all that.  

“You look exhausted,” was the first thing he said. 

“Wow, thank you so much, love you too,” you teased. 

“You look beautiful, you know that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that-”

“I’m kidding Gray. And before you start worrying for the hundredth time today, I’m fine,” you reminded him as you pulled out a dresser drawer you shared, beginning to transfer the clothes into yet another box. He watched you work with sad eyes, and you knew what was coming before he said it.

“I feel like shit that you’re doing all this work.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

“Would you do it for me? If you were stuck across the country in my house-”

“Our house,” he corrected. You couldn’t tell if he was referring to sharing with you or with Ethan, or both, but you kept going regardless.

“Okay, stuck in our house, and I needed to pack it all up, would you do it for me?”

He hesitated, and you knew he didn’t have a good response to that.

“That’s different,” was his only comeback, and you laughed a bit.

“Bullshit. You’re just mad because I’m gonna have to wear all your clothes cause none of mine will fit over my new muscles,” you joked, flexing your scrawny arms. You knew you looked dumb, but it got the laugh out of Grayson that you were hoping for, and that’s all that mattered.

“Right, you act like you don’t just wear my clothes all the time anyways. I’m not even sure you have any clothes of your own,” he teased, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh really? I could have sworn these were mine.” You dug around the drawer, finding a particularly nice pair of lace panties, holding them up to the screen. He groaned, falling out of screen for a moment. It took a second for you to realize he’d fallen back on the bed. 

“You don’t play fair,” he said once he moved his phone back to his face. “I miss you so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.” 

You were pretty sure you had an idea. This was now week four without seeing him in person, and it was actually awful. You’d known it would suck, but you didn’t think it would hurt to be away from him. And you were doing everything you both could - facetime dates, phone calls, texting, he’d even written a letter to you. But there was just something about being in his arms, hearing his laugh without the distortion of a phone speaker, waking up next to him; it couldn’t be replaced. 

Which meant you needed to mention your plan. 

“I wanna come to jersey,” you started.

“You know I would kill to have you here baby, you know that.”

“Grayson, the lease is ending. I think that counts as a reason for emergency travel. I mean, I’m technically gonna be homeless,” you reminded him. “And I know I can stay with Shane, or with Jeffree.” They had been nice enough to offer. Hell, Jeffree was letting the boys store everything at his house, even the cars. “But I wanna be with you.” 

“I don’t want you on a plane. You could get sick.”

“I won’t fly. I’ll take the van. I mean, that’s why you built it, isn’t it?” 

“Y/N...”

“I know, it seems crazy. But if I split it up into three days, I could do it. I’d be careful at gas stations, pack up enough food to last me. You know I can drive for forever, I could probably pull 15 hours or so a day, that would get me back pretty quick, and I’d be safe.”

“Safe,” he breathed, shaking his head. “Y/N, I was sketched out sleeping in that thing with two other grown men with me. The thought of you sleeping in there, alone in some parking lot...” he trailed off. “No. It’s too risky.”

“Gray-”

“Baby I want you here more than anything. Not knowing when I’m gonna see you again is actually killing me, but I’m not putting you at risk over that.”

“Okay, well, let’s compromise then. What would make you feel safer about it?” 

“You not doing it,” he said bluntly.

“Be serious babe.”

“You sleeping alone out there. I know you’d be fine with the driving, but I’m not okay with you sleeping in the van by yourself.”

“Okay...” you paused for a minute, trying to think of a solution. “Okay, what if I drove at night, and then I slept during the day? Less people on the roads, and I think we’d both feel safer if I was sleeping during the daylight. Would that work?” 

“That’s better. I still don’t love it. I’m not trying to be difficult, I just, I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he mumbled, picking at the fabric on his blanket.

“I know that baby, to be honest the thought of sleeping in there alone scares me a little bit too. But I’m willing to do it if it means I get to see you.” 

Grayson was silent for a while. You knew he was fighting with himself, and that he probably felt selfish for even considering giving in. But you also knew, deep down, you were going to do it no matter how much he protested. So you were glad when he finally conceded with a simple “I love you”. 

Now, with the realization that you were going to see him in just a few days, your motivation was renewed ten fold, and you got to work.

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

night one

You would have thought it wouldn’t be hard to get to sleep after the day you’d had. 

You were wrong.

The furniture had been moved out - Jeffree had been nice enough to hire a few movers to come get the furniture and the cars. Now, the house lay empty besides your bags that would go with you in the van, and you couldn’t wait to get on the road. Correction; you couldn’t wait to get to Grayson. The thought of seeing him again gave you butterflies. 

Once everything was done and final, you drug a few of the cushions out of the bed in the van, bringing them into the air conditioning so you could try to snag a few hours of sleep. 

While you managed to get a bit of rest, it was mostly futile. The quicker you got on the road, the quicker you’d get to jersey.

So with that, you packed up the van with all the food and snacks you had, reassembled the bed, tossed your bag in and climbed in the drivers seat.

I’m leaving, see you so soon!!!!!! you sent to Grayson, not being able to contain your excitement. 

4pm is not a night drive... he responded quickly.

shut up im excited BE EXCITED

you know i’m excited. be careful, I’ll call you in a little while x

With that, you drove out of the driveway for the last time, with New Jersey in the GPS. 

And the drive wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Grayson called you around 7pm to check on you and keep you company. You ate the sandwich you’d made as the sun set, and you continued down the road. It was peaceful if you were honest, and the van drove so nicely - Grayson really had done a good job. 

Although he tried to stay up, Grayson’s snoring took over around 11pm (2am jersey time you reminded yourself), so you hung up and starting blasting some of your favorite tunes to keep you alert and awake. Not having any traffic was a bonus, and you were amazed with the progress you were making. By the time the sun came up, you were already in Colorado. You resorted to driving until around ten, which landed you about at the border of Nebraska after a whopping 18 hours. You pulled into a non-sketchy looking parking lot, relieved that you’d found one.

I’m stopping to sleep for a few hours. I love you!

You sent it and started rummaging around in your bag, finding your toothbrush, toothpaste and pajamas. You brushed your teeth outside using your water bottle, changing in the car and cuddling up in bed. The bedding smelled a bit like the boys, which was comforting. Just as you started the settle down, your phone rang, Grayson’s contact photo popping up. You swiped over to open it, happy to see his face. 

“Hey baby, I was just about to get some sleep actually,” you said. And now that you had laid down, you realized how tired you truly were.

“I know. I’ll mute my side so I don’t keep you up, but I’ll be here in case you need me,” he said casually.

“Grayson you don’t have to-”

“I want to. It’ll make me feel better, knowing someone is watching out for you while you’re asleep.” 

It was so sweet that you started to tear up, so you just buried your face in the pillow instead.

“I love you.”

“I love you too baby, get some sleep.”

And you did.

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

night two

You woke up around five, fully refreshed - other than feeling like you needed a shower. You stretched out before getting up and heading to brush your teeth. When you got back in the van you got changed into some of the clothes you brought, happy to have on something fresh.

“That’s my hoodie.” The male voice startled you and you squealed, covering yourself.

“Baby it’s just me! It’s me!” It took you a minute to realize that it was Grayson speaking to you from your phone, which also was pointed where he could see you.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You huffed, pulling the fabric over your head.

“Sorry, I was just enjoying the show,” he blushed, smirking at you a bit. You rolled your eyes, but giggled with him as you climbed into the drivers seat once again, pulling out the dinner you had packed, deciding to eat a bit before getting back on the road. 

“I can’t wait to see you,” Grayson sighed. You looked at your screen closely and realized he was in his workshop.

“I’ll be there so soon. Now, go build some stuff, I’m all safe and awake now. I love you,” you smiled, knowing he would never be the first to hang up. 

“Okay baby. Drive safe, call me if you get bored.” 

“I will, love you!” 

And so you took off, heading through Nebraska. The states seemed to be getting quicker now as you passed through Iowa, then Illinois, and even Indiana. Grayson called, and even Ethan kept you company for a few hours on the drive, making it go by fast. By the time you got to Ohio, the sun was high in the sky and you realized you actually weren’t that far from jersey. Only another seven hours, and if you kept driving, it would put you at their house around 7pm. You thought about the cold brew that you’d stashed in the fridge in case you’d struggled through the nights.

You could use it, and you could make it. In all honesty, you weren’t even that tired as the excitement started to mount. 

But you also knew that Grayson would rather you just sleep, and that he was going to call you again. So, you had to hatch a plan. 

You pulled into a nice looking parking lot, prepared to set it into motion.

You changed into your pajama shirt, taking your hair out of it’s bun so it looked like you were getting ready to go to bed. Taking a deep breath, you facetimed Gray.

“Is it bedtime?” was how he answered, making you laugh. He was in the kitchen at home, making lunch you were sure.

“Yeah, I made some good progress! I should be getting in around 8am or so tomorrow morning,” you explained, hoping he couldn’t see through you. 

“I can’t wait. I’m gonna pamper you so hard for all the work you did, that’s a promise.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“I can’t wait. But I’ve got sad news.”

He perked up at that, putting down the spatula he was using.

“My phone is kinda low on battery, so I don’t think we can facetime tonight. I don’t want it to be dead in the morning, and I can’t run the van,” you sighed, faking sadness. 

“Are you in a safe area?” 

“Yeah, I feel totally safe here. See, look.” You turned the phone around, showing him the lot you were in. 

He wasn’t happy about it you could tell, but he trusted you. And thinking about how excited he would be made you feel less bad about your white lie. 

“Well, okay. Just text me when you wake up okay? I love you.”

“Love you more!”

“Doubtful. Get some rest,” he smiled, hanging up. 

“Ha!” you exclaimed to yourself, smiling and fist pumping the air. Wow. You really were going crazy after being alone so long. You climbed in the driver’s seat again, pulling the cold brew out of the fridge and popping it open as you started to drive again. 

At first you were so excited that it felt like time was flying, but by the last few hours it was dragging by. The sun set, and the kiss of dusk was hanging over the trees as you got closer and closer. 

But when the GPS changed from hours to minutes, and the roads changed from interstates to back roads, you were fully awake once again. You’d actually managed to pull off almost 24 hours of straight driving. When you pulled into the driveway, there was a gate and armed security - the same ones that the boys had hired in LA.

“Hey guys, I’m early, I’m here to surprise Gray,” you explained. They were sweet like usual and happily let you through, closing the gate behind you. With some renewed energy, you stopped the van and brushed your teeth again - in all honesty, you felt disgusting and couldn’t wait for a shower, but the coffee breath was a definite no go. If you were going to kiss Grayson for the first time in a freakin month, you didn’t want to be worried about anything. 

Once you were back in the drivers seat, it was time for a little fun. 

You pulled your phone out, facetiming Grayson and driving super slow. He picked up quickly, concern on his face.

“Is something wrong?” was the first thing he asked.

“No, i’m okay. I started driving again cause I couldn’t sleep, but now I’m lost. My GPS took me onto some long ass gravel road, and now I’m surrounded by trees and I have no clue where I am,” you ranted, using every ounce of acting ability you had to not tip him off. 

“Slow down, hey it’s alright. Why don’t you just turn around and go back the way you came, and then we can figure it out.”

“I don’t know, I think theres a building or something up ahead of me, maybe a store? I could ask somebody for directions?”

“I’d rather you just go back. I don’t trust some random store at the end of some sus ass road. Just turn around baby,” he pleaded, getting a bit panicked. Luckily, you knew it wouldn’t last long because you were already in front of the house. You cut the lights on the van.

“Here, you tell me if it’s sus. What do you think?” You flipped the camera around, showing him the house. 

“I mean - wait. WAIT. WHAT? WHAT!? NO FUCKIN WAY,” he yelled, obviously freaking out. You laughed, hanging up the call and waiting for the inevitable. Sure enough, you’d barely gotten the driver door open when Grayson came barreling out of the front door. 

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you unbuckled your seatbelt and started to climb down. Grayson beat you to it, coming to the opening of the door and reaching up to pull you out of the car. You were laughing as he grabbed you, wrapping you up in his arms. 

“No fuckin way, no fuckin way that you’re actually here right now! What the fuck!” 

“Surprise!” 

“Did you drive all night? Or all day? I just... WHAT!?” He was truly speechless and it was the most adorable thing in the world. He leaned back slightly so he could look at you, eyes wide with amazement.

“Maybe,” you grinned, shrugging. 

“God I love you. C’mere.” His hands slid down to your hips, then around to your ass and you knew exactly what he wanted. You jumped and he caught you as your legs went around his waist, and then his lips were on yours.

It was like the best first kiss you could possibly imagine. You’d thought about kissing him constantly while you were apart, but you were realizing that it had done this no justice. His lips were soft and warm against yours, the taste of him familiar and wonderful. Your hair started to move in the wind and you realized that he was spinning the two of you around, his boots crunching on the gravel beneath you. You could feel the smile on his face as you kissed him, never wanting it to end.

“Ewwwww,” was the only thing that could have brought you out of it, and sure enough, it did. Ethan was on the porch, leaning against the pillars. Despite his words, he was grinning from ear to ear. 

“Hey E,” you smiled, laughing a bit at how you must look right now, waving at him while Grayson was still holding you up. 

“Go say hi, I’ll get your stuff,” Grayson smiled, kissing your temple and putting you down. You turned and jogged towards Ethan, who gave you the biggest bear hug, even spinning you around a little bit.

“Missed you squirt,” he teased, swaying back and forth a bit.

“Missed you too,” you grinned, squeezing him tightly.

“Thanks again for uh saving all our possessions and moving all our shit.”

“You’re very welcome. And you also have a shoe problem, just so you know,” you teased.

“I do not!” He exclaimed, putting you in a bit of a head lock and rustling your hair. You pushed against him but it was futile, and you were stuck until Grayson came back and saved you.

“C’mon, let’s go say hi to mom and get you to a nice bed,” he smiled, putting an arm around your shoulders and leading you inside. You’d only been to the house in Jersey a few times, and it was under renovation, so the finished product was a very welcome sight. It was all light walls and tables with dark finishes, cozy yet bright at the same time, even at night. 

Lisa came around the corner, lighting up when she noticed you were there.

“Y/N! Grayson told me you weren’t gonna be here until tomorrow!” She gave him a bit of a scolding look, which made you laugh.

“That’s on me Li, I got a little too impatient and decide to drive on through,” you explained, accepting the hug she gave you.

“Well you must be exhausted, you go on upstairs and get some rest, we can catch up tomorrow,” she assured you, giving  you another squeeze before letting you go.

You didn’t even try for the boys bedroom - you knew that Grayson had been sleeping in the laundry room. So you headed in that direction, Gray in tow with your duffle bag in hand. As you saw the coziness of the bed, every last bit of energy you had drained from you. The crash was coming, and it was coming soon.

“You ready to sleep?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I really need to shower, I feel disgusting,” you mumbled. Just twenty minutes, and you would be able to sleep. You could do that, for sure. 

“Okay, here I’ll get you a towel and stuff, you remember where it is?” 

“Yep, I’ll be there in a second.” 

You rummaged through your bag, finding your toiletries and some clothes. But when you saw Grayson’s stack of shirts, you couldn’t help but snag one. Everything you’d had at the house had lost it’s scent, and you couldn’t help but breathe it in for a second before heading to the bathroom.

When you got there, Grayson was laying out two towels, and already had his shirt off. You stared for a moment, taking it all in, but even with the view your eyelids were heavy. You were fading, fast, and you had the sudden realization that if you all tried to have reunion sex later, you would probably be so exhausted you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. And you really wanted to enjoy it. 

“Gray,” you said, walking over to him.

“Did you find everything you needed? I’m sure mom has some extra stuff if you need it.”

“No I’m good, I have everything. It’s just-” 

He looked up then, cocking an eyebrow. It took him a minute, but when it clicked you saw him smile softly, coming over to you.

“It’s not about that. I just wanna take care of you, that’s all. I figured you’d be too tired,” he explained.

“I’m sorry baby.”

He just kissed you, hands finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

“No apologies necessary. C’mon, let’s get you clean.” 

You both stripped down the rest of the way and he turned on the shower, which was huge. The tile was white and marble like, and the water pressure made you feel like you were in a spa as you brought your toiletries in. Grayson washed his hair quickly while you let the water run over you, and when he was done you felt his hands find your shoulders, rubbing at the knots he found with his thumbs. You relaxed back into his touch, closing your eyes and resting your back on his chest. 

“Let me get your hair,” he said, reaching behind him to get the shampoo. You didn’t have a care in the world as he worked the suds through your scalp, making sure to get every bit of it before he started to rinse it out. By the time he made it to washing your body you were practically melted, so lost in the relaxation that you weren’t even sure it was real.

“You’re humming,” Grayson teased, pressing a kiss to your shoulder after you were rinsed off.

“Am I?” You mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Let’s get you dry before you pass out on me.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he helped you out of the shower, wrapping you up in a towel and kissing your nose. “You should let me do this more often.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, his statement waking you up a bit as you started drying yourself off.

“Well, you are miss independent you know. Miss ‘I can pack up an entire house with nobody’s help’ and ‘I can drive across the country solo, no big deal.’ I like when you let me take care of you sometimes,” he mused, rubbing his towel over his body and hair quickly before pulling on his boxers.

“Does that mean I get a free ride to bed?” You teased, keeping it light hearted even though you were melting at his words.

“Not dripping wet you don’t,” he smiled, taking your towel and running it over your hair, making you giggle. You were sure it looked something like Albert Einstein when he pulled the fabric away, but he kissed you anyways, passing you a shirt, shorts and your undies. You put them all on quickly, your limbs heavy with fatigue.

“Alright, off to bed.” With that, he scooped you up bridal style, carrying you out the door, down the hall and into the laundry room. He sat you down gently on your feet for a moment, pulling the covers back and climbing in, immediately opening his arms for you. 

“I know you’re not tired,” you mumbled, crawling into bed and immediately resting your cheek on his chest. You put one leg over his, wrapping your arms around his bare chest as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“Doesn’t matter. Not a place in the world I would rather be. Now sleep so I can spoil you like I had planned to tomorrow.”

If you’d had any energy left you would have questioned him, but instead you lulled off to sleep in his arms, more content than you could remember being in a long, long time. 

#:) #im living for the new jersey boys to be honest #lynds writes #grayson imagines #this one was lowkey fun #send me some requests and let me know what you thought of this one!!!!! #grayson dolan #dolan twin imagines #dolan twins imagines

[harley-sunday]

A Good Man Goes to War [01]

Summary: Starts right after Civil War. Steve Rogers is done being Captain America and quite happy living a quiet life in a safe house somewhere in Canada. Until Thanos goes after the Infinity Stones. What happens when a good man goes to war? 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (f) but could be read as reader insert.

Warnings: Minor language.

Word count: 4.5k-ish

Entry for @browngirlmagic​‘s writing challenge.  My prompt was “Demons run when a good man goes to war.”

AN: By now you all know I need validation, hence the quick update. Like I said before, this is unlike anything I’ve ever written before, so please let me know what you think. It’s kind of scary to put this out there ♥

I don’t do taglists, but if you follow Harley Sunday x Steve Rogers you should see any update I post.

Masterlist

He sleeps for most of the first couple of days he’s there, as if his body and mind finally allow him to catch up on all those hours of sleep he’s missed over the years. When he is awake he always finds a fresh glass of water and a plate of sandwiches on his bedside table, which he is grateful for because even though he is still so tired, he is also quite hungry. As he eats, he listens for her from his bedroom, more often than not hearing her quietly humming along to whatever song is playing on the sound system while she busies herself downstairs. 

It is on day five that he finally wakes up feeling well rested, but when he sees himself in the mirror in the bathroom they share he has to do a double take because his beard has taken over half his face and he almost doesn’t recognize himself. Still, he keeps it, only trimming the edges. The shower is nice and hot and he comes out of it feeling ten times better. He puts on a pair of dark blue jeans and pairs it with a flannel button down shirt that seems appropriate in this setting.

He finds her in the kitchen, kneading some dough that he hopes will get turned into more of that fabulous homemade bread. “Hey,”

“Well, hello Sleeping Beauty,” she says from over her shoulder, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she smiles.

“Yeah,” he runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at the base of his neck, “sorry about that.”

She tuts, shaking her head, “Please. After what you’ve been through I didn’t expect you back in the land of the living for at least another day or two.” 

“So you know then?”

“It was in the file Nick sent over after he made the call,” she replies almost apologetically. Then, as though she wants to change the subject, “There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”

“You’re the best,” he says with a grin, realizing he actually means it. He wraps both his hand around the mug after he’s poured the coffee, leaning against the counter to her right, watching her as she kneads, and kneads, and kneads. She makes it looks effortless, but he’s sure he’d be able to mess it up if he ever gave it a try. His eyes travel across the kitchen and the living room and he finds more and more evidence of ultra modern technology he hadn’t seen when he first got here. He figures that even though it might look like a simple log cabin from the outside, it is probably decked out with the latest technology on the inside, which, no doubt, is a requirement for a safe house. 

“So, I assume you have some questions?” She gives the dough a final fold before she picks it up and carefully drops it into a bread basket. She washes her hands and dries them off on the towel hanging over her shoulder before she helps herself to a cup of coffee and gestures towards the living room, “Let’s sit down.”

He finds himself pulling out a chair at the dining table, sitting opposite of her, realizing then that yes, he actually does have some questions. Which is strange because he always thought it would be the other way around. But she mentioned a file from Nick earlier, and if one thing, those always tend to be very detailed. He allows himself to really look at her then, instead of those quick glances he kept stealing on the way from the airport. She has kind face, there’s no doubt about it, but there’s also something else there, something he recognizes as sadness and he wonders what her story is. That’s not for now though, he decides.

“Don’t be shy,” she challenges him from across the table, a mischievous grin playing around on her lips.

“Ok,” he starts, “This is your cabin, right?”

“Yes,”

“Right,” he replies. “Please don’t be offended, but-”

“You want to know if I’m going to be here all the time or if I’m actually going to leave you alone at some point?”

“Well,” he sighs then because she seems to have read his mind. “Yeah.” 

She laughs, “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” She looks around the room, “The cabin and I, we’re kind of a package deal.”

“That’s fine,” he’s quick to reassure her. “I’ve been on my own long enough, I quite like having someone around.”

“Good,” she says before she fishes a piece of paper from the pocket of her apron and slides it towards him. “Chores are another part of the deal I’m afraid-”

“Seems fair,” he quickly assures her. 

“It’s just,” she starts, smiling, “you could probably chop more firewood in an hour than I could in a day so it would just be a waste of resources if I didn’t let you do that.” Her finger taps the second line then, “I will make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but in return you’re in charge of the dishes and taking out the garbage.”

He smiles, “No problem.”

“The last one isn’t really essential,” she clears her throat, “but  uh, I’ve already killed so many of them that I’m now putting each and every one that is still here into your care.” 

“How?”

“I don’t know,” she sounds defeated, “I’m just not good at keeping things alive, ok?” She must realize what she’s just said then, because she buries her face in her hands, “Oh God, that came out wrong, because I’m sure I’ll be able to keep you alive.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mutters quitely.

She hasn’t heard because she shakes her head and continues, “It’s just plants I have a problem with.”

He puts one of his hands over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “It’ll be fine.” 

They settle into an easy rhythm after that, where he’s the one who wakes up early and makes sure to get the coffee going before she joins him downstairs about an hour later. Breakfast then, after which she’s in the kitchen to either make bread, pickle vegetables, or make jam from a variety of berries she finds somewhere deep in the forest, only stopping to make them lunch. He’s outside most of the mornings, chopping firewood, making sure the wood’s properly stacked alongside the cabin, and that there’s enough to last them through most of the winter. He usually tends to her vegetable garden after lunch, even though surprisingly enough she’s been able to keep most of her crops alive so far. 

They go into town about once a week, on Wednesdays, when there’s a farmer’s market, a trip that takes them most of the day and so they treat themselves to lunch at the Thirsty Moose bar, where he takes a special liking to their Philly Cheese Steak Poutine. She tells him she always treats herself to fresh flowers when she’s at the market and so every Wednesday night there’s a new arrangement adorning the dining table. He’s decided he likes it. 

The evenings are spent on the porch, catching the last rays of sunshine after dinner, quietly talking about anything and everything, but nothing too serious yet. They are getting to know each other more day by day and he quite likes that there’s still somewhat of a mystery about her. When it gets too cold they head inside, where she makes them both a hot chocolate that they finish on the couch. He almost always goes to bed first, while she stays up late, reading books about whatever topic holds her interest at that moment. He has seen her scribble little notes in the margins of the pages, and he doesn’t know why, but it makes him like her even more. 

She surprises him with a variety of cupcakes on his birthday, which happens to be exactly two weeks after he’s arrived here. There’s also a gift, and he finds himself a little speechless when he unwraps a beautiful handmade axe, which is amazingly balanced. She tells him he’s been using her lightweight axe, and that this seems to fit him much better. He agrees wholeheartedly. 

She’s put a birthday candle into the strawberry cupcake, telling him he has to make a wish, even though he argues he’s technically ninety-eight and might be too much of a grown up for that. She giggles then, tells him he looks pretty darn good for his age, before she counters that he’s been put on ice for 66 years and so she thinks they’re actually only celebrating his thirty-second birthday. He can’t really argue with that logic and so he blows out the candle in one go. 

She tries to get him to tell her his wish, but he warns her not to push him or he’ll give up on the plants and at least that gets her to back off a little. 

The wish he’s made on his birthday lasts exactly two months. 

And what a great two months they have been, he reminisces. Summers here are mild, she told him, and she wasn’t wrong. Still, being this far north meant they got plenty of sunshine and the forest offered them an abundance of edible plants and berries, which they collected on what quickly became their regular afternoon walks. He feels comfortable around her, things are easy between them, and so he finds himself opening up to her more and more. 

He tells her about his upbringing in Brooklyn, about Bucky, the war, and how lost he felt without his best friend, both the first and second time he thought he had lost him. He admits easily that it took him a long time to somewhat adjust to this modern society he woke up to after being defrosted, and that he’s still not sure he’ll ever really be a part of it. There’s a lump in his throat when he tells her about what happened to Bucky after he fell from the train, and how he ended up fighting his best friend several times before they were able to help him. 

He’s still angry when he talks about the Accords and what happened after, even though he’s quick to reassure her he’s happy that it made him end up here. More about Bucky then, how this time he got to fight alongside his best friend and how Bucky is now trying to heal with the help of T’Challa and his people in Wakanda. He tries to explain Wakanda to her, but knows he’ll never be able to do it justice and so he promises to take her there some day. 

She just lets him talk, only asking questions when something is unclear to her, and God, it feels good to finally tell someone the whole story, even though he’s sure she already knew most of it from the file Nick Fury sent over. Still, she listens and he talks, and he thinks that maybe his birthday wish is coming true. 

But then, somewhere at the end of summer, she calls out for him, “Steve?”

He hears it in her voice, even though he can’t quite explain what it is, only that it’s not good. He stacks the two pieces of firewood he’s holding and rushes inside, finding her in the kitchen, looking upset. 

She nods towards the living room, “There’s someone here to see you.” 

His heart’s in his throat then, because how did they find him? Does this mean he’s compromised? Should he just make a run for it? No, he thinks, he can’t just leave her here. He turns around, a sigh of relief escaping him when he sees the familiar redhead sitting on the couch.

“Hey, stranger,” she says with a smile.

“Natasha.” He wants to be happy to see her again, really he does, but he knows she’s not just here on a social call and so he asks, “Sam?”

“He’s outside,” she replies with a nod towards the front porch. 

“You can come in,” he says, knowing the comms unit she’s wearing will pick up his voice, and sure enough, Sam comes bursting through the door seconds later.

“Steve, man it is good to see you!” 

He returns the hug, because yes, it is good to see his friends again even though he’s sure what will follow next will make him wish they never showed up. He tells them to take a seat on the front porch, says he will join them in a minute.

Natasha glances over his shoulder with a knowing look, then throws him a wink before she gently pushes Sam outside.

He turns around, “I’m sorry, I had no idea-”

“I know,” she smiles. She holds up the phone he knows only Nick Fury has the number of, “The message came just as they pulled up. I would have told you earlier, but I didn’t-”

“Hey, no,” he takes a few quick steps towards her, hands on her arms. “I’ll go find out what they want ok?”

She nods, biting her lip because he’s sure she knows as well as he does it means he’ll have to leave soon. “I’ll,” her voice catches in her throat, “I’ll get you some coffee.” 

“Thank you.” He lets go of her, but then something makes him go back and kiss the top of her head, “It’ll be alright.”

“Yeah.” 

He joins Natasha and Sam outside then, listens to what they’ve been up to these past weeks, not surprised to learn they’ve gone rogue and are now doing missions on their own. He asks how they found him, but he doesn’t get a straight answer out of either of them, even though he knows they must have contacted Nick. He’s the only one who knows where he is. 

“Cap,” Sam starts once there are three steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. “We need you, man.” He looks at Natasha, but she just nods, and so he continues, “These missions, well, it’s not like they’re super dangerous, but there’s only so much we can do when it’s just the two of us.”

“We’re doing Nick Fury’s dirty work,” Natasha explains, “but it’s work that needs to be done.” And, because she knows him and knows what he’s about to ask next, “It’s not illegal per se, but yes, we are trespassing and taking things that technically don’t belong to us.”

He nods, leaning back in his chair.

“Look, Steve,” Natasha puts a hand on his arm, making him look at her, “we wouldn’t be here if it was absolutely necessary.” She explains then, how there are five missions in total, spanning a little over a year, that he’d be gone no more than six weeks at a time, that she and Sam will do all the preparations, that he just has to show up and help them complete the mission. 

“I don’t know.” He sighs, casting a glance over his shoulder, finding her in the kitchen, where she’s trying to knead some bread but he can tell her heart’s not in it. They’ll have to feed it to the birds, he thinks wryly. He looks back at Sam and Natasha, knows they need him too if not more, knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself if something happens to them because he’d rather stay here and ignore the outside world. “I’ll do it,” he says, “but not as Captain America.”

Natasha nods, “That seems fair.”

“So you’re really going rogue with us then?” Sams asks with a grin. “Tell me, man, what should we call you now that you’re not carrying the shield?” 

He thinks about that for a while, but then, because it seems fitting, “Nomad.”

He can tell she’s not happy about it, even though she never says anything. If anything she just becomes more distant, the chatty nights on the porch now spend indoors, with her reading, and reading, and reading, and him waiting until Natasha sends him the mission details on the secure phone she handed him after their visit. It hurts, but he gets why she feels this way, she was meant to keep him safe, after all. He’s tried to explain once, why he choose to go, but she just shook her head and he stopped talking. 

When they go into town together that Wednesday he lets her do the grocery shopping, while he meets up with the guy he’s been in contact with about the bike he has for sale. It’s a Harley Davidson WLA ‘Liberator’ and it reminds him of the bike he used to drive when he was in Europe. After taking it for a test drive and agreeing on the price he’s a little hesitant to show her his purchase, but she just shrugs and tells him it’s a nice looking bike. Small victories, he supposes. 

The message comes a week later, just as he’s done with the dishes for the day, giving him the coordinates to the pickup point where they’ll pick him up with the Quinjet the next morning. His GPS tells him it’s a three hour drive from here and so he’ll have to get up early, meaning he only has one night with her before he has to leave. He tells her about the mission, that this is their last night together for a while and to his surprise she asks if he wants to have a hot chocolate on the porch.

“I’d love to,” he replies, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It’s already getting dark outside and so he busies himself turning on the two gas lanterns on either end of the porch before lightning the candles on top of the table. 

She joins him not much later, handing him a big mug topped with a generous amount of whipped cream, “Here you go.” 

“Thank you,”

“Listen, I uh,” she sits down on one of the Adirondack chairs and motions for him to do the same. “I’m sorry, about well,” she raises her eyebrows, “this week, I suppose.”

“Honestly, don’t-”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I wasn’t being fair. You don’t have to answer to me about well, anything you do, really.”

“Except the plants,” he says, trying to let her know it’s ok. That he understands.

“Except the plants,” she echoes, smiling. 

“I left the instructions  on the fridge, ok?” 

She nods, “I will follow them to a T.” She looks at him then, “Just be careful, ok? The plants and I’d like to see you back here in one piece.”

“Will do,” 

“Promise me.” Her voice catches in her throat somewhere and she tries to smile but he can tell she’s fighting back tears.

He reaches for her from across the table, his hand on hers as he gives it a little squeeze, “I promise.”

He’s missed her, he realizes now that he’s finally on his way back to her. 

He’s been gone for almost four weeks, the mission somewhere in South America, where the weather was much more forgiving than what he’s dealing with now. The cold wind bites through his gloves and jacket, like little needles pricking in his skin. The signs along the road tell him he’s almost there and so he opens up the throttle, wanting nothing more than to see her again as soon as possible. 

She must have heard his bike coming up the road because she’s waiting for him on the porch, smiling when she sees him pulls up.

He parks the bike at an impossible angle, right in front of the steps leading up to the cabin, but he doesn’t care, because it only means he can get to her quicker. He takes his helmet off as he steps off the bike and hangs it on the handle bars, before he walks up to her and wraps her in his arms, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she says from somewhere against his chest, her arms having found their way around him. “I’ve missed you.” 

He lets go of her ever so slightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I’ve missed you too.” 

She looks up at him, “Are you ok?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I am now.”

“Come on,” she lets go of him and takes one of his hands in hers, “let’s get you inside.” She leads him to the kitchen, where she examens him carefully, her brows furrowed when she sees he’s got several cuts on his face.

“It’s nothing,” he assures her, but then her fingers ghost over the cut above his brow and he winces, because he took a pretty hard blow there just this morning, the skin still tender. 

She tuts, “Go take a shower. I’ll take care of that once you’re done.”

“It’ll be healed by tomorrow,” he counters. “The serum, remember?”

“Yeah, well, humor me.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest then, “Upstairs. Shower. Now.”

He does as he’s told, the warm water actually making him feel a bit more human. He puts on a pair of sweatpants she bought for him on one of their trips into town, claiming you can’t really relax in a pair of jeans when he told her he didn’t have any other pants. He grabs a t-shirt from out of his closet, not bothering to put it on because he knows she’ll want to see if there are any other cuts and bruises that need her attention.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters quietly when he makes his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. She lets her eyes travel across his chest before she looks up at him, “Are you even real or?”

He chuckles and shrugs, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs. 

Standing in front of him she hands him the first aid kit, her fingers once again examining his skin, her eyes widening in surprise when she sees most of the cuts are starting to heal already. “You really weren’t kidding,” she whispers.

His eyes find hers and he shakes his head, “Nope.” 

Something that looks like relief flashes across her eyes then, but she hides it by telling him to put his shirt on and handing him a cup of hot chocolate.

Natasha already warned him that the next mission would start soon, but he never thought he’d only get four days of rest before they’d ask him to head out again. The mission brief suggests a short trip, two weeks tops, but he knows from experience that’s way too optimistic. At least the pickup point is closer this time, only a two-hour drive from the cabin and they won’t pick him up until late tomorrow afternoon so at least he still gets to spend some time with her. And the plants that have been in her care the past four weeks.

“You know what?” He can’t help but smile when he examines her work, “I’m not mad about this.”

“No?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “you really did a great job.”

“So they’re fine?” 

“More than, I’d say.” He turns towards her, a little thrown of by the mischief in her eyes. “What?”

“Even that one?” She points to one of the succulents in the windowsill, and he can tell she’s trying to keep a straight face.

He looks closer and laughs then, “It got smaller.”

She giggles, “It got replaced.” She throws her hands up in defense then, “I don’t know what happened, one day he was fine and the next-” she makes a face, “-dead.” 

“Uhu,”

“Steve, I promise, I did everything you told me to do.” 

He throws an arm around her shoulder then, pulling her close, “You can’t keep buying new plants every time one dies.”

She scoffs, “I’ve been doing it for years.”

He was right about the second mission, they were gone a little over six weeks and by the time he gets back the forest is covered in a thin layer of snow and so he has to park his bike on the side of the house, next to where’s he stacked to firewood. He finds her on the porch, like the last time, and she throws her arms around him as he pulls her into a hug.

“I thought you were never coming back,” she says quietly.

“I know,” 

“Let’s go inside,” 

He takes her outstretched hand and follows her into the cabin, the warm glow of the fireplace welcoming him back. Like last time, she examines him closely, but he came out pretty unscatched and so she’s quick to tell him to go take a shower. She asks if he is hungry when he’s halfway up the stairs, and when he tells her he is, she sets out to make him a quick dinner of some leftover she finds in the fridge. 

She allows him to eat his dinner on the couch, which she’s never done before, but she must see how tired he is. This mission was a waiting game more than anything else, long days spent trying to gather as much intell as possible before moving in to secure what they came for. 

“I really missed you,” she says suddenly, and when he looks at her he finds her eyes a little glossed over. “I never felt lonely here before, but this time, I don’t know,” she tries to smile, and he can tell she’s trying not to make too much of a big deal out of it. 

He puts his plate down on the coffee table and motions for her to come closer, wrapping his arm around her once she’s snuggled up to him, “I really missed you too.”

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers fanfic #ayesha1kwritingchallenge #Harley Sunday x Steve Rogers #Captain America

[petriichors]

title:  two’s company, three’s a crowd (but we’ll make it work) ship: suho centric, sulay, suchen & beginnings of sulaychen word count: 4.5k words warning: mentions of near death experiences (drowning), unresolved polyamory dynamics. notes: written for round 4 of 91daes, cross posted on lj & ao3. 91daes is such a precious fic fest to me and i was really happy to see that there was a round 4~ the prompt i picked up was: domestic au + ot3, baking, magic and though i tried, it came off as more soulmate au + magic and ot3. i had a pretty good start with writing this but lost the feeling halfway through which meant that i scraped a few ideas here and there and reworked through most of it once more.

it seems that I can’t write good endings and I didn’t want to rush any resolution of issues since it wouldn’t seem very realistic. Also, I’m not familiar at all with electric shocks and so what I’ve written is probably really far off from actual facts to fit better with the narrative!

this fic is un-beta’d so all mistakes are mine, also I’m sorry for the weird switching in tense. shoutout to H for cheering me on even in the tougher times.

summary: Junmyeon figures that if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water.

“I went into the ocean without knowing how to swim, and went to you, not knowing how to love.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he falls in love.

It was the ocean that he had fallen in love with; it was the ocean that drew him in. In his defence, the first time he had gone into the waters unattended was when he was five. Old enough to know better than to break away from his parents and dash towards the ocean, young enough to not care. At age five, Junmyeon thought that he could do anything he wanted and walk away unscathed.

It’s comfortable in the beginning, with a hint of excitement as the waters reach ankle height. Waves laps gently at his exposed calves, as if asking him to ‘come closer, take another step in’. And he does, he takes that next step and the step after that, moving deeper and deeper into the deep mesmerizing blue of the ocean. The edges of his shorts get soaked with salt water but he pays it no mind, not when he was nowhere deep enough. All he knew was that the ocean was calling out to him and that he had to get closer, much closer. 

Later when he wakes up to the sun shining down on him and his mother sobbing over him (“oh, thank god, thank god!”), he would realize that he remembers nothing save for wading deeper and deeper into the deep dark blue. Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a too tight embrace by his mother, taking in sweet breaths of air into his burning lungs. His father tells him much later that he had called out to him only to be ignored and left panicking when the waves swallow up his only son. The one thing he had utmost control over in the world was the one thing that almost stole his only child away from him. 

 There’s a story that has been told to him over and over in his mother’s soft voice as she coaxes him into falling asleep. A tale about finding love and unlocking magic, the love story of how his parents met and how his family came to be. Junmyeon never really grasped the whole concept of it all, not at the tender age of six where everything seemed to fictional. 

He understood the magic which origins nobody could explain. He’s witnessed magic firsthand during bath time with his father: water streaming upwards, forming figures and shapes and tickling his sides before his father released his hold on it. He’s experienced it first hand in how his mother cushioned his falls with gusts of wind, he’s felt the weight of it when she had tried to force air back into his lungs after he had drowned. It’s easy to understand the magic since it was something he could see, something he could touch. 

Love though… it wasn’t something he could comprehend as easily. Junmyeon’s both seen and experienced love, of course. He’s seen the love his parents had for each other, he’s experienced the love they had for him and him them. Even in the books he’s read, in the cartoons he’s watched, he’s seen love all around him and yet… it was still something complex, something too abstract for him to fully understand. And if he ever got frustrated about his lack of understanding or voiced out his confusion about why he couldn’t do what his parents could with the air and water around them (“I don’t understand! I found love, eomma, I love you and appa, so why don’t I have magic too?”), his mother would assure him that he would find that one love that was meant for him eventually. “And until that day comes, you’ll find other forms of love along the way.” 

As he lies in bed at age six, Junmyeon wonders if love might be similar to the ocean. It was something beautiful and mysterious (and dangerous, always dangerous for those are careless. Ever ready to pull him down by the ankles and fill his lungs). And if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water. 

The reality was this: everyone’s borne with dormant magic within him or her and the key to unlocking it was someone; a special person destined for them, a match made in heaven, a soulmate. It’s a game of luck, really, whether or not they ever get to meet. The luckier ones had soulmates who were people familiar to them, a friend, a neighbor, a schoolmate. Those with average luck are the ones who had strangers as theirs, a random face in a crowd that they get drawn to. The statistically minority, that 2% of the population with no luck at all, never had the chance to ever meet their soulmates (some so far apart from each other that finding each other was close to none. some gone before the chance ever came about). 

At age sixteen, Junmyeon learns the history and technicalities behind the fairytale he grew up with (less a bedtime story now that reality bleed through) from a compulsory seminar held by his school. He learns about the social events that the government had sponsored in order to maximize the opportunity of soulmates meeting, about the registration process that comes after the meeting of his special someone. At age sixteen, Junmyeon wonders if he would have the opportunity in meeting his soulmate or if he would end up being a part of that 2% that never does. The lingering fear of never finding that one love, stemming from the tender age of six, loosens its tight hold on his airway as he clutches onto the seminar brochures and signs up for multiple mixers. 

After all, some things were best left to faith and some things were better taken into one’s own hands. 

When fate decides to intervene with his carefully laid out plans, he realizes how he was simply a pawn in this game of predestined matches, a piece of a puzzle being passed around until he found his place next to someone. Junmyeon realizes how powerless he really is when fate had decidedly brought him along as a witness of his date (a junior at school who had the prettiest lips, a strong love for food and a battalion of dad jokes) meeting his soulmate. 

Fate: 1, Junmyeon: 0. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetie.” 

“So why is everyone meeting their soulmate except me?” 

“You’ll find yours soon, I promise.” 

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he meets his soulmate at age twenty. Dying might seem like a stretch of facts but in his defence, tripping down a couple of stairs after colliding with someone might really have caused death. In his case though, he suspected that the only thing the fall had caused was a possible concussion. Junmyeon groans as he opens his eyes to a face hovering near his own, the stairwell lights shining down around him like a halo. 

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there I–” 

Junmyeon squints, “Are you an angel?” 

“I–” The angel laughs. “No, no, I’m not.” 

“You look like one,” he lets the non-angel help him up to his feet, wincing a little as he stands. 

“An angel wouldn’t have caused an accident like this,” With an apologetic smile, the other male takes a step back from Junmyeon. “Does it hurt anywhere…?” 

“Nah, I’m fine. I just hope I can say the same about my coffee though…” He trails off, eyes drawn to his plastic coffee cup lying on its side with its cover flung wide open. Where there was supposed to be a mess of dark liquid was nothing, instead the coffee stayed within its container, perpendicular to the floor. 

“Hello, fine,” the other male chuckles. “I’m Yixing.” 

“I–” Junmyeon looks back at him (the non-angel, his soulmate, Yixing). “I think you’re my soulmate.” 

The coffee spills out of its cup. 

They get registered on a Tueday. It’s the only day that Junmyeon ends his classes early enough to make it for an afternoon slot and it’s the one day Yixing could have off from his internship at the hospital. 

After a long talk (for which a business law class might had been skipped for) and three dates (were they dates or casual meetings? What counted as dates? “Hmm, I think if we had a nice time together and one person pays for the entirety of the day, it’s a date.” “So are we dating?” “Maybe! In that case, would you like to go on another date with me, Junmyeon?”), here they were: casually holding hands in front of the local district hall. The registration process itself doesn’t take long (simple filling up of forms and a thumbprint seal does it) and whatever papers they come out with holds lesser significance as compared to a marriage certificate but Junmyeon still gets nervous. 

“It’ll be okay,” Yixing reassures him, fingers laced between his. “I researched about it, it’s really easy!” 

Junmyeon nods, offering Yixing a smile. He can’t bring himself to tell the other boy that it wasn’t the process that he was nervous about because it was the partial cause of his nervousness. He doesn’t tell him that the bulk of his worry was because of Yixing. In all honesty, he doesn’t have to because Yixing already knows. Yixing’s done the research. 

Yixing doesn’t have elemental magic. In fact, Yixing doesn’t have any magic at all. 

And when the forms ask for proof of their bond, Yixing has nothing to show that Junmyeon is his soulmate. 

 There are cases of people who were borne without magic, people like Yixing, but they are rare enough to be considered a myth. In a world were magic is an indication of a shared bond, the lack of it in someone marks a problem. It leads to the idea that someone didn’t belong in the relationship, that someone was still searching for their other half. That someone was cheating on a person they had not met. 

In the eyes of the registry, a soulmate bond where one party had no magic was not recognized. 

In the eyes of the registry, what Yixing and him would not count. Junmyeon knows this, Yixing knows this, they had done the research. 

So when the forms asked about the nature of their magic, Yixing lies. 

His relationship with Yixing is easy. His relationship with Yixing is fun. 

It’s nothing as grand as what Junmyeon has seen in movies and books; it’s nothing as dramatic as the local drama series portray. It’s simple and light and free of tragedies. (Though his mother had jokingly asked if Yixing would like for her to play the role of an overbearing mother-in-law. Yixing had laughed before mentioning that he would be willing to take up the challenge if that meant that he could proof his affections for her son.) 

There’s no need for them to fall head over heels in love, and they didn’t, because love doesn’t work that way. Love is like the ocean, you would have to wade into it, take one step after another until you’re surrounded by nothing but the deep blue. 

So they do. They start off with a casual friendship, they start off with getting to know each other over time spent together. They meet up when time allows, they don’t when they get too busy. There’s no obligation in forcing themselves to go into something bigger, something more committed than they had. 

The thing about wading into the ocean is that you won’t know how far you are from the shore until you look back. Looking back now, Junmyeon finds it difficult to pinpoint when they eased from friendship into possible romance. He can’t tell when he had realized that he didn’t mind spending the rest of his life with Yixing. He can’t pinpoint when it had become more comfortable for the two of them to press kisses on each other’s cheeks than to exchange quiet goodbyes at the end of the day. It might be love, but it might not. All he knows is that it isn’t just friendship anymore. 

And if what they have right now is love, Junmyeon decides that people have been complicating the idea of love too much. 

 Though it doesn’t go to say that it has never crossed his mind that perhaps, his soulmate is still looking for someone that was his. Perhaps it’s him that there was a problem with, perhaps someone above had decided to make a joke out of his existence by giving him someone who he was never meant for. 

The thoughts that creep up on him the late nights where he goes a week without meeting Yixing due to the hectic schedules of a intern nurse and a business major student council head. The thoughts sneak up on him as he shows off little water tricks he had picked up from his father (“Dad’s gonna teach you have to impress him. Watch closely, Junmyeon-ah.”) with Yixing pressed against his side. 

When he mentions this to his soulmate, the other boy simply shakes his head. 

“You’re mine as much as I am yours.” 

 “Eomma… do you think that Yixing and I are right…?” 

“I think, if he makes you happy and if you make him happy, that’s as right as it can be.” 

Junmyeon almost dies the first time his soulmate meets him at age twenty-three, and he wonders if all these instances of near death served as punishment for the disregard he had about soulmates in his younger days. (He half wonders if this was punishment for having someone who wasn’t his.) 

This time, he doesn’t collide into someone and fall down the stairs. This time, the possibly of death isn’t an exaggeration. It starts with the accidental brushing of fingers along the corridor, which leaves a jolt through his fingers. He brushes it off as static electricity and continues down the corridor. It ends with his legs buckling from the pain that overwhelms him from shock of electricity that surges up his arm when a hand wraps itself around his wrist. The last thing Junmyeon remembers before passing out is the look of fear and concern on a stranger’s face. 

He wakes up to scratchy bed sheets and his father sitting by his bedside reading a magazine. A quick glance around reveals that yes, he’s still in the hospital and no, it’s not because he had extended his visit over Yixing’s lunch break. His arm is bandaged from wrist to shoulder and it aches. “Ow.” 

His father glances up from the glossy pages at his son’s groan. “Hey there, champ.” 

“Hey,” His voice is hoarse, throat dry from the lack of water. His father exchanges his magazine for the cup of water sitting on the bedside table and offers it to Junmyeon. 

“Slow down, slow down,” His father shakes his head, shifting his grip on the cup. “You’re going to choke yourself.” 

Pulling away from the now empty cup, he clears his throat. “What happened?” 

“You got a nasty electric shock. It’s not too serious but your arm’s got the worst of it. The doctor mentioned something about burns but they should heal in time.” 

“Ah,” That would explain the pain that had coursed through his arm and the bandages. “Where’s mom?” 

“Your mom’s outside, talking to someone.” 

“Yixing?” 

“No, it’s not Yixing. He’s probably doing his rounds right now.” 

His mother enters the room before he could ask whom it was that she was talking to and rushes across the room to fuss over him. (“Why didn’t you tell me he was awake?” “You were talking!” “Your father, I swear. How are you feeling, sweetie?”) Despite the ache in his arm, Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Dad said you were talking to someone. Was it the doctor?” 

“Oh! It wasn’t the doctor, no. Actually, there’s someone I think you should meet,” She pulls away from her son, turning to gesture for the stranger standing silently by his door to come closer. It was the face that he had seen before passing out. “Junmyeon-ah, this is Jongdae.” 

“Hello,” Junmyeon steals a glance at his father who shrugs in response to his unasked question: who and why?   

“Hello. I–uh, I’m sorry. About the electric shock. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“It’s okay,” He moves to shrug, which was a bad decision on his part when a twinge of pain shoots through his upper arm. “It was an accident.” 

“Ah, yeah. It was an accident, it’s just… this has never happened before.” 

Junmyeon nods, confusion evident in his expression. Clearly he was missing out on something that he was supposed to have understood, there had to be a larger reason than apology for his mother to have spent time away from him to talk to Jongdae. There had to be something bigger for her to have thought that he should meet the other boy. He turns to look at her. 

“Sweetie…” She takes a step forward, resting a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder. “What he’s trying to say is that you’re it. You’re his soulmate.” 

 “I’m not letting you go. It’s selfish, and greedy. But I’m not letting you go.” 

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.” 

“We’ll work this out, I promise.” 

“Of course! So… when do I get to meet him?” 

When Junmyeon first meets Jongdae upon being discharged, he spends the first ten minutes reassuring the younger male that yes, he was fine now. That the scars would fade off over time. That there was no need to apologize for the accident. That Jongdae could sit closer if he would like since the wooden table between them was a distance enough to prevent any other possible accidents with Jongdae’s electricity. The younger male merely nods, inching his chair forward a little, before resting his hands on his lap once more. 

Junmyeon spends the next thirty learning about more Jongdae. He learns that Jongdae is a year younger than him. He learns that Jongdae is a musical major and had been the lead for major school productions. He learns that Jongdae’s family consisted of mostly fire elementals, so it came as a surprise that his ended up being electricity. He learns that Jongdae has been searching for him for years, going to mixers and blind dates. He learns that Jongdae’s amused by how they had been brought together by sheer luck and his friend’s clumsiness (“Chanyeol thought it would be perfectly fine to surprise Minseok-hyung from behind but look where that got him. Frostbite sure is no joke.”) which was the reason behind Jongdae being at the hospital in the first place. 

The last thirty minutes goes to Junmyeon telling Jongdae about himself. About how he was in his final year as a business major and that he was looking at a couple of corporations to apply to. He tells Jongdae about his water-wind parents and how it didn’t come as a surprise that he ended up as a water elemental (much to the pride of his father) and tells him about how he learnt to control his control over water under the guidance of his father. He talks about how he met his soulmate, laughing about how the important meetings of his life always ended up being accidents. 

Things get a little shakey when Junmyeon talks about Yixing and the years they had together because as much as Yixing was his, he was Jongdae’s. He falters when Jongdae offers him an apology, this time for being an intruder into something that Junmyeon already that. He thanks the younger male but tells him that there was no need for apologies. They fall silent. 

Things like these were out of their control, matches made in heaven, a pre-destined partnership. What was meant to would come to be, and if that meant that the three of them were to end up with this complication, then here they would be. There was no use thinking about what if’s at this point of time, not when nothing would change. Perhaps if fate hadn’t play its part, Junmyeon would have never met Yixing and ended up only meeting Jongdae instead. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. 

Junmyeon had Yixing. Jongdae had him. This was what they had. 

When Junmyeon asks if Jongdae would like to meet Yixing, Jongdae accepts. 

Yixing meets them at the hospital cafeteria over his lunch break, the only time he could really spare over the week due to it being flu season. (“Sickness waits for no one,” he shrugs as he stabs a straw into his juice box. “If it did, I might be out of a job.”) 

Things go better than expected, not that Junmyeon has very good expectations of three way meetings between supposed conflicted relationships, thanks to the local drama scene. There’s no screaming, no passive-agressiveness, no throwing of water into each other’s faces. All in all, Junmyeon thinks it’s a win. Jongdae’s still quiet and nervous, hesitant with his answers as though afraid to offend anyone, while Yixing talks enough for the both of them cheerfully in between bites of his bulgogi set. 

He listens to the younger male diligently as Jongdae shares his story to Yixing, asking questions and nodding along. In exchange, Yixing tells Jongdae about his family back in Changsha, pouts a little when he mentions how seldom he gets to visit now that he’s a full fledged nurse. He talks about his work in the hospital and the people he’s met in his time here. He tells Jongdae about how he had tripped Junmyeon down the stairs on their first meeting. Tells Jongdae about Junmyeon’s parents, about Junmyeon’s embarrassing stories (“You should see his face on the rollercoaster, it’s the funniest thing ever.”) and about the really bad jokes Junmyeon has shared over the years. 

When the end of his lunch break draws near, Yixing ushers his boyfriend away. “I want to talk to Jongdae alone. Go to the bathroom or something.” 

“What?” 

“I want to talk to Jongdae. Alone. Without you. We have secrets to spill. Buy me some chips, please!” 

Grumbling, Junmyeon gives in to the Yixing’s request. “Alright, alright.” 

Waving his boyfriend away, the nurse lets out a chuckle before turning back to face the younger male. Jongdae fidgets, uncomfortable with the fact that it was just the two of them now. This was it, this was how he was going to be threatened and chased away. 

“Here! These should be helpful,” he pulls out a pair of latex gloves and presents them to Jongdae. At the younger male’s confusion, Yixing smiles. “You won’t shock us if you have these on, I promise. We’ll find something better later, these are all I have now.” 

Jongdae nods, staring at the pair of gloves that Yixing drops into his hands. “I– thank you.” 

“Also, if you have any questions about Junmyeon, don’t hestitate to ask me, alright? I’ll help you out. We’ll work it out.” 

“Thank you,” Jongdae hestitates once more, glancing up at the older male. “But why are you helping me? Wouldn’t it be easier for me to… leave…?” 

“Why would you leave?” 

“Because I’m intruding, I don’t–” 

“He’s yours as much as I’m his, Jongdae-ssi,” Yixing interrupts. “There’s nobody else I would be willing to share with him but the person for whom he was meant for. We’ll make this work.”

When Junmyeon returns with a pack of chips in hand, he’s greeted with the sight of Jongdae’s gloved hands in Yixing’s. Yixing shoots him a grin, passing Jongdae’s hand over to Junmyeon as he grabs hold of the chips. “I’ll see the both of you soon!”

They could make this work. 

They get registered on a Tuesday. It’s the only day Yixing could wrangle a lunch break to meet them at the local district hall. After three long talks across two weeks between the three of them, Junmyeon had given in to the insistence of Yixing wanting to be there for the registration despite him not needing to. There were better uses for his hour-long lunch break, Junmyeon argues, he could grab a proper meal and get some actual sleep but Yixing waves it off. (“I’ll be there, wait for me, okay?”) 

And so they do, they wait outside the distract office. Jongdae and him don’t hold hands, not because they can’t but because Jongdae doesn’t want to even though he has his leather gloves on. (“I can’t risk hurting you.” “You won’t, you’re wearing your gloves.” “I’m still not risking it.”) It’s a quiet wait in the late autumn afternoon once they had run out of topics to talk about before the final person of their trio arrived. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, it’s something that they’ve gotten used to after all the times they’ve settled into the lack of conversation whenever they were left alone for extended periods of time without having Yixing or Junmyeon’s parents around. 

The sound of running marks the arrival of Yixing who waved cheerfully at the pair as he made his way towards them. “Sorry, sorry! I missed the bus down. Did you wait?” 

“Of course, we did!” Jongdae chuckles when Yixing reaches out to him, lacing their fingers together. 

“You told us to, remember?” Junmyeon adds, shaking his head in amusement when Yixing’s hand had wrapped around his wrist.

“Go! I’ll be here when you’re done,” Yixing pulls the both of them towards the building, offering them two thumbs up when they turned back to glance at him. “Now, it’s my turn to wait.”

It’s tough being in a relationship with a person, let alone two. Despite being the one who was the link in their relationship, Junmyeon was more often than not the first one to flounder when it came to establishing dynamics. The whole is more than the sum of its parts and this was was more than trying to fit someone new into something that Yixing and him had shared for years. 

It didn’t help that Jongdae wasn’t able to get over the guilt of having hurt Junmyeon once before. It didn’t help that Jongdae had decided to keep his distance when they had first met as a trio out of fear that he would hurt either of them during their time together. It didn’t help that he refused to touch either of them even after they had managed to close the distance between them.

What helped was the balance that Yixing had brought back to the disbalance that was created when Jongdae came into the picture. What helped was the patience that Yixing had when it came to dealing with both Junmyeon’s frustrations and Jongdae’s worries. What helped was Yixing’s suggestion of getting Jongdae a pair of leather gloves instead of the disposable latex ones so that he could have the opportunity to reach out for them whenever he wanted to. What helped was the fact that Yixing had more than enough love to share amongst the three of them. 

They weren’t perfect in any sense of the word, no. But perhaps, one day, they would get there.

#suchen #sulay #exowriternet #exo fic #exo fanfiction #suho #lay #chen #fic fic baby #exo #my writing #this is the longest thing i've ever written omg