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mandoclan · 3 years

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SWEET HOME KENTUCKY // Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x F!Reader

A/N: 14.8k. Yes, this is a spinoff of Sweet Home Alabama. I love that movie and I love Whiskey, so here you go! This is Jack Daniels x Female!Reader, but there’s no Y/N mention (unless I missed one).

Warnings: Character Death (mentioned in passing), Fluff, Angst, Divorce, Physical Abuse (a punch and a tight grip), Drinking, Drunkenness, (basically, if you’ve seen the movie, I’ve deviated but no more than normal).

She still dreamed about that night. The one where Jack took her out to the meadow behind his mama’s house and told her he wanted to marry her one day. To which she asked, “Why would you want to marry me for anyhow?” and he replied, “So I can kiss you anytime I want.” Her first kiss. Her first love. And they were only twelve at the time.

It didn’t come as a shock to her when Jack had asked her to marry him right out of high school. She was his first love, after all, and Jack swore he’d loved her since before he ever kissed her in that meadow. But then he never showed up to their reception because he was still drunk from his “bachelor party” the night before, he was always gone on missions and attempted to stop her from doing the same even when they worked for the same intelligence agency, and she eventually got shot in the head in a mission gone wrong, resulting in medical having to use Alpha-gel on her to bring her back.

That fatal injury had broken her and it had broken Jack too. He hadn’t been able to protect his own wife when she was his partner, and that killed him inside. After that, he became almost overbearing in his protectiveness and you’d eventually asked Champagne for a transfer after a whole year of turmoil in your home, explosive fights, and missions spent arguing. Champ loved you and Jack like his own kids and wanted you and your husband to fix this, but he did as you asked and you’d transferred to New York without telling Jack with the instructions that if he were to ask that Champ would tell him that you were safe and in another Statesman office.

That’s where you found yourself now, leading the New York office after the last agent had retired. You’d built up your reputation from scratch, leading missions and directing agents in the Northeast region of the United States. You kept in touch with Champ barely, but it had been seven years since you left Kentucky. You refused to even think about Jack unless you were sending another copy of the divorce papers or unless you had that damn dream about the meadow again.

You woke to the sound of your office door opening, and you lifted your head from the desk you occupied on the top floor.

“How come you let me sleep?” You grumbled to your assistant when he stepped into the room with a mug of coffee and a mission report from one of your top operatives.

“You needed it, boss, but it was only for a few minutes. Long enough for me to grab your coffee and fetch the report from downstairs.” He shrugged. “Y’know, that accent of yours gets a whole lot thicker when you’re dreaming.”

That boy had the audacity to smirk before you narrowed your eyes at him.

“And what exactly did I say?” You demanded.

“That I’m gonna get a raise when you realize how awesome I am.”

“We’ll see how good your coffee skills are, then.” You laughed, finally smiling at him through your exhaustion. In all reality, you liked this kid. He’d just been assigned to you and hadn’t earned his agent name yet, but you had a feeling he would do just fine and you already had plans to promote him come next quarter.

“Enjoy.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “I’ll see you tomorrow for that meeting in the conference room, alright?”

The kid agreed and you nodded at him before making your way to the elevators.

Your apartment on the lower levels of the Statesman New York building was modest, but well-lived in. You’d wanted to make it seem as much like home as possible. This time, however, your apartment wasn’t as empty as usual. The entire entryway and living room were filled with rose petals and rose bouquets in glasses of water.

“Goddamn that man,” you swore, stepping around the petals and heading to the panel you had on the wall where an orange light was blinking, signifying you had a waiting message. A button was pressed and suddenly your boyfriend’s voice filled the room.

“There’s a rose for every moment I thought of you last night. God, you must be exhausted. Sweetie, listen, I’ll see you tomorrow at our meeting. You’ll do great. I love you. Bye.” The message ended and you rolled your eyes before heading over to the largest of the bouquets.

You loved your boyfriend, Agent Rum, but this was too much. You hated huge, sappy gestures like this and he knew it, but you supposed it was a bit sweet. Very few other ladies you knew had such attentive men at their sides and Jack had never done anything remotely like this. A sharp breath was inhaled in an attempt to nix that thought from your mind before you headed to your front door and made your way to the ladies’ dorms. You left an embarrassingly big bouquet in front of each door and sighed in satisfaction once you’d swept up and removed most of the flowers in your apartment.

_________________________________________________________________

The meeting you’d scheduled came sooner than you’d liked, this being a collaboration between the Texas office and your own New York one. Rum walked in and kissed your forehead before the meeting could even start and you smiled at him. He could always brighten your day in an instant.

“Thanks for the flowers, babe.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand in yours. He grinned, asking if you really liked them, and kissed you before sitting in his spot along with a few of your other agents. You both slipped on your glasses and started the meeting, knowing that you could talk properly once the collaboration was agreed upon.

It felt like hours went by before all positions were assigned and the intel was decided upon. You groaned once you were able to remove the glasses needed to see everyone in their remote locations, rubbing your temples. Hands were felt on your shoulders, and you knew it was Rum. Your glasses blinked a light on the side and you sighed, placing them back on your face.

The blinking was due to a message from Agent AppleJack, one of your own agents whom you’d taken a shine to and often spent weekends going about the city with. She was a nice girl from Maine who had an affinity for seafood you couldn’t quite get behind, but you’d consider her one of the closest friends you had in this city.

“Please tell me he has a flaw somehow.” She had typed out. You rolled your eyes before moving your eyes on the on-screen keyboard to type a reply.

“He asked me to go to California for Christmas.”

“He’s gonna ask you a lot more than that,” was her reply.

“You think so?” You were suddenly nervous. You’d only been dating Rum for six months and your divorce still wasn’t finalized.

“Sweetie, let’s go for a walk.” Rum took you from your conversation, and you nodded, slipping the glasses back off your face. “You’re so stressed, but you did so well today.”

You both made your way to the elevator, hand in hand, and eventually you meandered around Central Park just talking about your jobs and how your last missions went. You rarely went on them anymore, but you made sure that Rum had as many as he liked to keep him happy.

“So have you made a decision?” He finally asked, bright eyes boring into yours.

“About what?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“California.”

“Babe, California? That’s four months from now. We don’t even have to decide right now because we can literally jump on any jet we have and go within 6 hours if we want.”

“I was thinking maybe 200 guests, tops.” Rum continued in his words, but you stopped him with a pull to his hand.

“For Christmas?” You asked, still very confused. “Rum, are you on some kind of medication I don’t know about? Should I take you off of field duty for a bit? Did you get shot or something?”

All of a sudden, Rum was kneeling in front of you in the middle of a pathway in Central Park, and everything finally made sense. He held a diamond ring in his hand, the light hitting it just right and you gasped.

“Brandy, and I should probably know your real name by now, will you marry me?”

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not sure we can just go back to work and forget all about this. It’s only been six months.” You floundered, not even sure what to say, but he looked so hopeful and you really did love him.

“Brandy, I love you. I didn’t come by this decision lightly, and I really hope you’ll say yes. I want to build a life with you.” Rum stood, looking you right in your eyes. “So, I’ll ask again. Brandy, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice and felt the ring slip on your finger. It felt strange, another ring being there, but you were suddenly overcome with joy that your life was finally falling into place and you had a man who loved you and wanted to build a life with you. That’s all you could ask for. So you kissed him.

He grinned once you’d let yourselves out of his arms and released him from your kiss, hand reaching for his agency-issue watch.

“I’ve got to tell my family.” He gushed, “Wait until you see the look on the guy’s faces!”

“Babe, do you mind if we keep this to ourselves for a while? With this collaboration mission with Texas happening and everything else, I’d rather just keep this quiet for a bit.”

“You don’t want to tell your family?” Rum asked, a bit confused. You cursed yourself in your mind because he didn’t know. The only person close to being a family to you was Champ, and you hadn’t really talked to him in ages. Close to seven years, actually, which was downright awful. The guilt gnawed at you.

“Sunshine, I don’t really, um, have a family.” You stated calmly, fingers soothing the back of his hand as he pulled a face.

“But—” he started.

“I have a mentor who I looked up to as a father, but I haven’t seen him in about seven years. I think I should tell him in person.”

“Okay, whatever you want, sweetie. I’m happy as long as you’re happy.” Rum smiled, and you sighed in relief.

“He’ll love you, eventually.” You reassured him.

_________________________________________________________________

First thing the next morning, you caught a plane down to Kentucky and found yourself driving along the battered country roads to the little farmhouse where you and Jack used to live. Your watch buzzed with an incoming call, but you didn’t answer, knowing it was AppleJack. You’d fill her in later.

You parked the car next to the oak tree that still held your swing. A dog came rushing down the steps, howling at you, but you didn’t mind. It was your dog, after all. A tall man in heavy work boots busted out the door, hollering at the dog and telling you that “he don’t really bite.”

The man looked at you without really seeing you, seeing only a woman in worn out cowboy boots and aviators covering much of her face. Her hair was different, so she didn’t really expect him to recognize her.

“What can I do for you?” The man drawled in his southern accent. You shuddered, not forgetting the way that voice sounded when you were in bed together at all times of day or night.

“Well, for starters, you can get your stubborn ass down here and give me a divorce.” You snapped, pulling the sunglasses off your face. Jack’s eyes widened once your words registered. “C’mon, Jack, I mean it. The joke’s over. We need to finish this so I can get back to my office and take care of my job.”

“You’re shittin’ me, right?” Jack spluttered.

You finally got a good look at him. He had shaving cream on the side of his face as if he hadn’t got a chance to finish before your hound was howling, but he’d kept his mustache. You hated to say that he looked good, but it was the truth. The years had been kind to him.

“You know, I’ve never actually understood that expression, but no, I’m not “shitting” you.” You groaned, pulling a packet of papers out of the glovebox of your rented truck and spreading them out in the bed. “Look, it’s even got these idiot proof tabs so you can’t mess this up. I’ve got one copy for you and I both and one for my lawyer. So c’mon.”

When you looked up at him again, he didn’t say anything but he certainly looked like he had quite a few things to say.

“Well?” You demanded, irritated that he wasn’t coming down off the porch to sign the papers like you’d asked him to.

“You show up here after seven years without so much as a ‘Hey there, Jack, remember me? Your wife?’ Or a “Hi, honey, lookin’ good! How’s the family?’” He had the audacity to laugh, finally stepping closer to the edge of the porch.

“You expect me to tell you that you look good? Bless your heart. Sweetheart, we’ve been separated for seven years. I’ve had it with your bullshit.”

“They like that attitude wherever it is you’ve been?”

“Cut the crap, Jack. You knew where I was. Champ told me you accessed my records.” You spat, moving closer to the porch. “And don’t you dare tell me you’ve spent all this time missing me.”

“Oh I missed you alright, but I’ve been going to the range more and practicing so my aim’s gotten a lot better.” He drawled, leaning against the railing.

“Is that a threat, Jack? I’ve got a lawyer who charges me an arm and a leg. He charged me every time you sent these damn papers back without your signature on the dotted lines.” You lifted the papers as you spoke, but he scoffed at you.

“Well, I’m glad to see you got the message.” He smirked, going to say something else but you were both cut off by the dog howling again due to your hostile tones.

“Shut up, Coal!” You shouted, but Jack shouted a different name. “What happened to my dog, Jack?”

“He died. You weren’t here.” He grumbled, turning to go back into the ranch house. You stood there in shock for a second before realizing what he was doing.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving!” He shouted, back turned to you, “You done it, so you should recognize the process. I need to finish shaving my damn beard.”

“Jack, can we please just keep this civilized? For God’s sake, we’re both adults and agents. Please just sign the papers so I can go back home.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. This was a mistake, you thought. He wasn’t going to sign the papers.

“What do you know from home?” Jack spit, finally turning around to face you, fire in his eyes. “Hell, I bet Champ doesn’t even know you’re here, does he? That old man took you under his wing and trained you himself and you have the audacity to avoid him like he’s some annoyance?”

“That’s my business, Jack, so you stay out of it.”

“Honey, he’s the only family you got.”

“Don’t you ‘honey’ me, honey!” If looks could kill, he’d have died about ten times by now with the murderous look you were giving him.

“Get your ass back in that truck, drive over and see him, and maybe we’ll talk after.” Jack demanded, pointing his finger at your vehicle. He was headed back inside before you could even think, and you started shouting at him as you followed him up the porch.

“Jack, you idiotic, stubborn, no good agent! The only reason you won’t sign these papers is because I want you to!” You yelled, hands on the doorknob of the windowed door he’d just slammed in your face and locked.

“Wrong!” He shouted, trying to pull the blinds on the door that he could never get figured out. “The only reason I ain’t signin’ is because you’ve turned into some hoity-toity, wine-drinking, Yankee bitch and I’d like nothing better right now than to piss you off!”

He finally maneuvered the blinds mostly over the door as you dashed to the back of the house, but he locked that too before you had a chance to get there in time. He could hear your frustrated shout from outside and he chuckled in disbelief before heading to his bathroom to get rid of the rest of his beard.

“Divorce, my ass.” He grumbled. Jack came out two minutes later, wiping his face with a towel to find you lounging on his bed. He froze.

“Hey genius,” you smirked, anger still evident in your eyes. “Next time you wanna lock somebody out, make sure they don’t know where the spare key is.” You waved the offending object in the air, and Whiskey made a mad dash for it but you closed your fist before he could snatch it.

“Knew I should’ve changed those damn locks. It’d be nice if my wife had told me where the spare key was!” He growled.

“I’m not your wife anymore, Jack.” You said softly, “I’m just the first girl that climbed in the back of your truck. But you’re right, I have changed. I don’t even know the girl you married anymore.”

“Then let me remind you.” Jack sneered before grabbing his cell phone and heading back into his bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, Jack popped his head out of the bathroom.

“You bring any clothes with stripes on ‘em?” He asked, and you looked at him in confusion.

Red and blue lights flashed through the windows suddenly and your eyes widened.

“You called the sheriff?!” You gasped, jumping off the bed you used to share with the man looking at you with a satisfied grin on his face. “You know that old bastard hates me!”

“For good reason!” Jack shouted, still in the bathroom.

You made to run for the back door, but it opened to reveal a man you knew.

“Well, hell’s bells!” The man grinned, “If it isn’t our favorite Agent Brandy!”

“Tequila?”

“Hot damn girl, did we miss you! The agency wasn’t the same without you!” Tequila laughed, picking you up and giving you the biggest hug you’d gotten in a long time.

“I can’t believe you’re the sheriff!” You pulled on his badge for a second and knocked his cowboy hat off kilter to mess with him.

“Yep, I get to frisk pretty things like you all day and get paid for it.” Tequila put his hands around your waist and you slapped his chest.

“Aaron, can you try and be at least a little more professional? We got us a crime suspect here.” Jack emerged from the bathroom and you were struck with the fact that you hadn’t known Tequila’s real name until that moment. You quickly snapped back into it, though.

“Now, Brandy, you can’t just go breaking into your ex’s house whenever you feel like it, no matter how much they might deserve it.” Tequila—Aaron, you had to remember that—said.

“I didn’t break in. I used a key. My key, if you must know.” You snorted. Clearly, “Aaron” didn’t know that y’all were still married.

“Well, it still ain’t your house, Brandy. I’m gonna have to escort you out.” Aaron made to take your wrist in his hand, but you pulled away and grabbed the divorce papers you still had with you. You waved them as you heard Jack tell Aaron to use the cuffs on you.

“If you can get that asshole to sign these papers, I’ll let you run me out of town.” You smirked and Aaron laughed at your antics.

“Now that’s none of your concern, Aaron, you hear me?” Jack started, but Aaron was already taking the papers from you to look over.

“Well, what do you know. A bill of divorcement?” He asked. You nodded, and Aaron turned to Jack. “Hell, Jack, I thought you took care of this.”

“I thought I did!” Jack protested.

“Obviously not! Well, if y’all are still married, it’s her house too. This here ain’t nothin’ but a domestic dispute.” Aaron handed the papers back to you, and you smiled at him.

“He didn’t hit you, did he? If he took a swing at you, I’ll take him in right now.” Aaron told you quietly, out of earshot of your husband. You shook your head, because no, that man had never harmed you in ways that were physical. He’d only wounded your heart.

“No, he never hit me.” You replied quietly. Aaron nodded.

“Well, seems y’all got some catching up to do, so I’m gonna leave y’all to it. There’s nobody for miles, so Jack here can make ya scream all he likes.” Aaron winked at Jack, and you shouted in indignation. “G’night, lovebirds!”

“Aaron, I saved your life at least four times back in your Statesman years! You owe me!” Jack shouted, rushing to follow the sheriff’s retreating figure. He wanted you gone from his house in handcuffs if that’s what it took to get you to leave him alone about those divorce papers that he didn’t want to sign.

“Why can’t you just sign the damn papers, Jack?” You yelled after him, and he fixed you with the nastiest stare you’d seen in a long time.

“Listen, Jack. There’s nothing I can do. Your wife’s done nothing wrong, so I can’t just haul her in for nothing. Y’hear me?” Aaron blocked the doorway with his large frame as he lifted his hands in mock surrender.

“I suppose shoplifting steaks at the grocery store’s okay.” Jack spat.

“I took ‘em back and you know it!” You screeched back.

“You remember that vandalism out at the stockyard? Totally her!”

“Like I could tip a cow by myself at sixteen.” You growled, and Jack groaned. He couldn’t hit you with anything from your Statesman years either because that was all “classified information” you didn’t have to answer to. But Jack got an idea.

“Hey Aaron, isn’t there some outstanding warrant for whoever dumped your old man’s tractor in the fish pond?” Jack smirked triumphantly, making eye contact with your horrified expression. And then the cuffs were on your wrists and you were making your merry way to the county jail in the back of his cruiser.

“Now you know I didn’t have a choice, sweetheart.” Aaron smiled ruefully once y’all reached the station. He’d ended up hauling you off in cuffs just like Jack wanted and you were seething.

“This all could have been avoided if he’d just signed those damn papers.” You grumbled. “Can I make a call?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. You’ll get a couple minutes once I book ya.”

You rolled your eyes, taking the photos Aaron needed to do for “legal purposes.”

“You know that’s gonna get wiped once I make my call, right?” Aaron had the audacity to laugh, knowing exactly who you were going to call.

“I know. Tell big daddy I miss him.” Aaron pointed towards the phone.

It rang for a few seconds before a secretary's voice filtered on, saying the usual crap the Statesman company was supposed to yodel on about.

“Hi, I’ve got a word for you, lady.” You spit out, “Lemon drops suck.” You heard the operator say something about holding on for a moment and then a familiar voice was asking who you were.

“Champ! It’s Brandy,” you shouted, “Listen, I need a favor.”

“Name it, darling. You know I’d do anything for you and that wonderful husband of yours.” He drawled on for a moment and you smacked the phone receiver into the box.

“I need you to pick me up.”

“Well, where are ya? I’ll send a car or whatever it is you need.”

“That’s the thing. I’m in town. But, I need you to come get me from the jail.” You said after a moment. A groan came through the receiver and you winced.

“Alright, darling, I’ll be right there. I’m assuming it’s the usual one, then?”

“Yeah.”

Fifteen minutes later, the man himself was strolling through the door.

“I’m here for my girl, Tequila.” Champ rolled his eyes at you once he saw you waving. He had you out and your record erased within five minutes, and then you were back in his familiar old truck that smelled like whiskey and gunpowder. He accepted a muttered thank you while you drove off towards the Statesman offices.

“So what put you in jail this time?” Champ finally asked.

“Jack and his big, fat mouth.” You grumbled. “It was just a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Kinda like that wedding I officiated, huh, darling?” You refused to make eye contact.

“I would hardly call that a wedding.”

“The boy was nervous.” Champ chuckled.

“He was still drunk from the night before!”

“Can you blame him?”

“Yes, I can! We’re supposed to be professional agents and he goes and gets piss drunk the night before we’re supposed to get married. I went to the reception by myself with his puke on the side of my dress while he slept it off at the hotel. And you’re still siding with him!”

“I ain’t siding with nobody, so get rid of that idea. Y’all two are my best agents and I need you both.” Champ stated firmly. “The boy’s changed is all.”

“Can we just not talk about Jack? I know he’s like the son you never had, but you also called me your daughter and all that, so can you just ask me what’s new with me or something instead?”

“Sure. Shoot.” Champ looked disinterested, and you had the feeling that he’d kept up with you better than you’d kept up with him. Curse the archives for always spilling your secrets before you ever could.

“I met somebody. And he’s quite a catch.” You started, and Champ raised an eyebrow beneath his larger than life cowboy hat. “And I’m happy. Really.”

The rest of the drive was held in silence, neither of you feeling like talking much. He pulled into the Statesman gates and led you inside, scanning his ID card on an empty apartment in the back of the warehouses where agents could sleep during the longer missions.

“Sleep well, sweetheart. We can talk about all this in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and you hauled your bag inside. “I’ll take you to get your truck in the morning, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.”

_________________________________________________________________

In the morning, you were on the phone with your lawyer, walking around the Statesman compound and attempting to avoid the various tour groups that were unaware of the real reason this distillery existed.

“How long does a contested divorce take?” You asked, exasperated that you had to do this now of all times because your no-good husband wouldn’t sign the divorce papers. “18 months? Mr. Collier, I don’t even have 18 days, really!”

The man told you that was how it had to be, you informed him that this arrangement wouldn’t work, and he was informing you of a different option when you heard someone wolf whistle at you, throwing out some jab.

“Ain’t seen the likes of you around this place much!” The man shouted from his horse.

“Mr. Collier, that’s just not going to work for me.” You groaned, trying to block out the man catcalling you from his horse. Clearly this was some junior agent. “Mr. Collier, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“Listen here, bubba, why don’t you kiss my ass!” You shouted up at the guy, but screamed in happiness once you realized who it was. “Oh my god, Moonshine?!”

“Let’s go inside then, missy, because I don’t do that kind of thing out here in front of the guests.” Moonshine smirked at you, jumping down from his horse.

“I guess your mama raised you right, then.” You laughed, hugging him. You’d missed Moonshine, who’d been one of your first friends in the agency aside from Jack, of course. “I better back off of you before your little lady tries to come beat me up.”

Moonshine looked sheepish.

“There is a little lady, isn’t there?”

“I can hardly afford me and my unhealthy addiction to firearms and whiskey, let alone some high-maintenance babe.” Moonshine laughed.

“What about Cara what’s-her-name? From the class outside of ours? Y’all had real chemistry on some of the missions I supervised.”

“She transferred out to the Alaska branch, and uh, I wasn’t her type.” Moonshine scratched the back of his neck and you hummed, understanding the situation.

“That answers a few of my questions. Guess we all have our secrets, don’t we, Moonshine.” You grinned, your suspicions about him batting for the opposite team nearly confirmed.

“Yeah, we sure do.” Moonshine climbed back up on his horse, tipping his hat on the way. “I gotta get back to work now, missy, but are you gonna be in town for awhile? Me and a few of the guys are going down to our normal watering hole later tonight if you’re up for it.”

“I hope I won’t be here long. I have to go see Champ, but I think I’ll see you boys tonight.”

“Well, I better scram if you’re seeing the boss man.”

“Very funny. I’ll see you later, Moonshine.” You waved the man off and made your way inside, scanning your own ID card on the entry doors and taking the elevator up to Champ’s office.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t my favorite agent.” Champ drawled from his seat at the head of the conference table.

“Hey boss man, care to give me a ride to town so I can get my truck?” You asked, leaning up against the door jam and waving your keys. He laughed, standing up and grabbing his own keys from his desk.

“C’mon then, little lady. I did make you a promise. You can tell me all about why you’re here on the way over.”

_________________________________________________________________

Once you’d picked up your truck from the jail’s parking lot, you made your way to the bank. You hadn’t accounted for Jack taking as long as he was to sign the divorce papers, so you needed some cash for necessities.

Of course, the bank didn’t have an ATM. You cursed yourself for forgetting as you stepped inside. The bank guard’s eyes widened once he laid eyes on you, telling whoever it was in the teller’s booth that he was going to take a break outside. You winced once you remembered that this was the same man whose farm you and Jack and a few of your old friends had gone rolling pumpkins in year after year. He probably hated you.

You approached the teller, but didn’t recognize her. She clearly recognized you, though.

“Well, if it ain’t the queen of the New York Statesman office.” She grinned. You narrowed your eyes, attempting to figure out who she was when the lightbulb clicked.

“Jenny? Oh my god. I haven’t seen you since you and Tequila got hitched! You look amazing!”

“Thanks, sweetie! So do you. What can I do you for?”

“I need to make a withdrawal from my—“

“Joint account?” Jenny smiled like she knew something you didn’t, which knowing her, she probably did.

“My what?”

“Your joint account. With Jack? From what I hear, y’all are still married.”

“Why yes, yes we are.” You grinned, a plan already formulating in your mind.

_________________________________________________________________

It was after five when Jack got home, but you’d already got to work. You had on one of his favorite dresses that you’d found in a trunk somewhere, one of your homemade aprons, and a wide smile once he walked in the door.

“Hi, honey! Lookin’ good. How’s the family?” You grinned up at him, serving food onto two plates in the dining room.

“Cut the shit. Where’s my stuff?” Jack growled, chucking his hat on the couch along with his whip and lasso.

You smiled where he couldn’t see it, glad to see he’d noticed what you’d done to the place. There were new appliances in the kitchen, a new couch and loveseat, a flatscreen tv, a new rug, and Jack assumed you’d also done something to the bedroom. None of the things he’d had laying around since you left were where he could see it, and the sight agitated him.

“Now what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t pick up after my husband? Dinner’s ready in five.”

“The kind that don’t live here.” Jack groaned, hands raking over his face. “Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time—where is the house key?”

“I had the sweetest talk today with Tequila’s daddy.” You started as you ignored him.

“Nice to see you got your accent back.”

“Oh, I stumbled on a few things today.” You said, noticing Jack had gone to the kitchen, likely in search of a beer.

“Holy shit!” He shouted, and you stifled your laughter. “What happened to the stove?! And where are them little magnets I got from my travels, huh?” He opened the fridge and groaned.

“What the hell is this? Chick food?” He gestured to the fridge that you’d restocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, and new groceries that weren’t stale takeout containers.

“Light beer. Less calories, honey.” You smiled brightly, missing Jack’s murderous expression. He grabbed a can anyway and popped the top off.

“I tried to pick out a new bed today, but the mattress store only had old models. I’ll have to order something from New York.”

“Whatever floats your boat, honey.” Jack muttered, taking a deep swig of the beer you’d bought. He’d have to find his stash of whiskey and hope you hadn’t gotten rid of it.

“Oh, but darlin’, I thought you said we should think of it as our money.” You saw him freeze where he stood, and continued your crusade. “Just a guess, but I’m thinking the words ‘joint checking’ are flashing through your mind right now.”

“How much did you take?” He whirled around, effectively forcing you into the kitchen.

“All of it.” You replied simply, enjoying his facial expression.

“Son of a bitch!” He cursed, chucking the now empty beer can into the trash can and rubbing his face with his hands.

“You wanted a wife, you got a wife, honey,” you spat, “and what were you doing with all that cash? Why don’t you invest it? We work for a perfectly good company with shares for sale, don’t you know anything?”

“I know if you don’t get out of my house right now—”

“Sign the papers and I’ll give it all back.”

“Fine—fine!” He shouted, “gimme the pen.”

You rummaged in your packet for the pen and laid out the papers on the dinner table. You made to give him the pen, but thought better of it.

“Hold on. What are you doing with all that cash saved up? And since when did you tell Champ not to put you on anymore active missions? You aren’t doing anything illegal, are you Jack?”

“So what if I am? I don’t ask you about your boyfriend, you keep your nose out of my life.” He spat out, not making eye contact with you. You deflated.

“Who told you?” You asked quietly.

“Honey, just ‘cause I talk slow don’t mean I’m stupid.” He said in a much quieter tone. He almost sounded hurt.

“Look, Jack—” you trailed off.

“For god’s sake, nobody finds their soulmate at twelve years old.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jack almost smiled. Your eye caught something on the mantle and you looked up to see a horseshoe and a photo of your parent’s old farm.

“I can’t believe you kept that all these years,” you murmured, eyes trailing over the familiar old farm. It had burned down four years after that photo was taken, taking your parents’ lives with it. Jack looked at you before looking at the clock on the wall.

“Oh, hey sweetie, you know what? I just remembered I got myself a hot date.” Jack grinned maliciously, unbuttoning his collared shirt as he spoke. Your eyes moved from the picture to the skin being revealed and suddenly were at a loss for words. “You don’t mind if I have my lawyer take a look at these, do you?” He tossed the papers back on the table and left the room.

“What?!” You gasped.

“Hell, I’m just a dumb intelligence agent with no regards for the law. There’s words in there I don’t even know. You might be takin’ me to the cleaners for all I know.”

“The cleaners? You? You ain’t been there since our wedding, if you even washed your suit for that,” you scoffed. “Can’t you just sign the damn papers?”

“Nah,” he grinned from the doorway to his bedroom, “but thanks for stoppin’ bye. It’s been a real treat.” And then the door was slammed and you screamed into a newly-purchased throw pillow.

You’d realized after about ten minutes that Jack wasn’t coming back into the living room. In fact, his dramatic ass had jumped out the window and you heard his truck starting up outside.

Tequila had made an offer, though, and you planned to take up the social obligation. Besides, if Jack was as predictable as he’d always been, his “hot date” was probably at his mama’s bar where everyone in that little town went to unwind.

Your phone rang once you were outside the noisy bar near Jack’s truck, and you answered at once knowing it was your fiancé.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You smiled into the phone and Rum’s happy voice spilled out.

“Are you sitting down?” Rum asked.

“Why? Bad news? Did the mission blow up or something?” You panicked. You knew putting this in Rum’s hands would only backfire if something happened.

“No, no! Nothing like that. I was just going to tell you that I read the mission reports and everything went exactly to plan just like you said it would. You might be up for another promotion, babe.” Rum reassured you.

“Oh my god, really? Oh, I needed that almost as much as I need to see you.”

“What is that noise?” Rum finally asked, and you assumed he could hear the loud music and shouts coming from inside the bar.

“The sound of my past.” You grimaced.

“Have fun. I love you.” Your fiancé finished, and you returned the sentiments before hanging up the phone and waltzing into the bar. You were immediately greeted by a screech and an older woman who was still spry was pulling you into a tight hug and yelling over the music.

“Batten down the hatches, boys! Trouble done just walked back into my life disguised as my favorite daughter-in-law!” Helen grinned at you. “Honey, gimme a hug, it’s been too long.”

You laughed while you hugged her and stepped back to show her your ring.

“Soon to be ex-daughter-in-law.” You stated proudly.

“Ooh, who’s the lucky guy?” She asked, inspecting the diamond on your finger.

“His name’s Blake and he works with me.” You winked, and she nodded in understanding. She knew about a little of the work you and her son did, but she mostly stayed out of it, claiming that the stress would bring her to an early grave.

“Well, he’s got my vote if he picked out a ring as pretty as that. It’s good to see you, baby girl.” Helen gave you a pat on the shoulder and told her bartender to give you whatever you wanted. You asked for a whiskey on the rocks and nearly laughed at the irony of the situation.

Once your drink was in hand, you scanned the room, looking for your husband. You spotted him in the corner with some young blonde thing and rolled your eyes. A quick march found you standing right behind Jack and you flipped the edge of his cowboy hat.

“Mind if I join you?” You asked sweetly, leaning up against the pool table beside him.

“Actually we do.” Jack said, raising an eyebrow. He was challenging you, but you ignored him in order to set your sights on his date.

“You must be Jack’s hot date.” You grinned at the girl and she put a hand out to shake yours.

“I’m Carly.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Jack’s snotty, Yankee-bitch wife whom he refuses to divorce even though I’m engaged to another man.” You shook her hand, and the girl gasped once she saw your ring.

“Hot dog, Jack, look at the size of that thing!” She gushed. You nearly rolled your eyes at how dumb she was acting just in an attempt to impress your husband.

“Honey? Why don’t you get us a couple of drinks, yeah?” Jack turned to Carly and handed her a few bills. The girl smiled, popped her gum, and proceeded to ask you what you were having. You rolled your eyes then. “Not ‘me and her’ us, ‘you and I’ us.”

The girl agreed and scurried off, and then you turned to Jack.

“Why do you make me be mean to you? Is that what you want? To be humiliated in front of all your friends?” You snapped, frustrated that he was taking this so lightly. He shook his head and downed the rest of his own glass of whiskey.

“C’mon, Brandy, they were your friends too.” You heard Jack mutter, nodding towards a few agents who’d just walked over with their drinks. You recognized a few guys who’d been in the class behind you along with Moonshine. He nodded at you and ordered a beer before heading over to say hello.

“Alright, Brandy, you sit down while I teach your husband here how to lose at pool.” Moonshine grinned, pulling a bar stool over to you.

“Now Moonshine, I’m not really a watch and see kinda girl, am I Jack?” His expression was priceless as he took up the challenge.

At least six drinks later, you were definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol and you landed somewhere near Moonshine as he lined up his shot.

“Come on, now, Moony, you got it. Don’t blow this one, okay baby?” You drunkenly giggled and Moonshine laughed at your inebriated state.

“You can take the girl out of the honky-tonk, but you can’t take the honky-tonk out of the girl.” He missed the shot, but you didn’t care anymore, more focused on the conversation Jack was not-so-quietly having with Cognac? Coors? You couldn’t remember his codename, but it didn’t matter. Jack was talking about you.

“So, Whiskey, are you gonna divorce this girl or what?” The agent asked. Jack shook his head.

“She’s waited seven years. A couple more days won’t kill her. Unfortunately.”

“Like it’s gonna make a difference.” You snorted, nearly falling into his arms but stabilizing yourself at the last second.

“You never know,” the agent started, “you might be interested to know that Whiskey here has been—”

“Hey, hey, Cognac, let her think what she wants. She made her mind up about me a long time ago.” Jack cut him off, making you wonder just what it was that he didn’t want you knowing about.

You quickly forgot that thought, though, when Moonshine started yelling and telling Cognac he owed him fifty dollars. Cognac groaned, forking over the cash.

You didn’t really know what happened next, but you got into a shouting match with one of the other agents and eventually asked Helen for another round of drinks, but she quickly cut you off. Then you were shouting again as Jack dragged you out of the bar by your arm, yelling at you, saying that you couldn’t just insult everyone in the bar because you’d made it out of Kentucky but they were happy where they were.

“What makes you think you can treat them like somethin’ you stepped in, huh?!” Jack demanded as he put you right up next to his truck.

“You asked for it!” You yelled in his face, trying to get your keys out of your pocket. Jack quickly grabbed them.

“You show up here, you steal my money, you rearrange my house, and then you insult our friends, actin’ like you’re better than them.” Jack spat. He was angry and you knew it, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

“I am better than them! And you stole my keys!” You whined, wanting to be anywhere but here with your husband who was telling you that you were wrong. He was right, but you wouldn’t admit it.

“That’s all that matters to you, huh?” He asked in disbelief.

You tried to say his name, but he cut you off.

“God, ever since you left, this has been a nightmare. The money, the fancy office, the city, you’re pathetic!” He raked a hand through his mustache and you got lost in the action right before spitting out a comeback.

“Oh, like you’re goin’ places!” You groaned, a splitting headache appearing out of nowhere. “I certainly am once I get my keys back.”

“No, you don’t. No. You want to kill yourself driving, you do it somewhere else. But not here, not on my watch.” Jack said, putting your keys into his own pocket.

“At least I’m doing something with my life. So what if you and I aren’t partners anymore, you can still go on missions. You don’t have to worry about me anymore!”

“Get in the truck, Y/N.” Jack opened the door and guided you inside, defeated. His date was waiting by the door and you noticed them having a quiet conversation before he handed her your keys and made his way back to the truck.

You fell asleep before Jack even got on the two lane highway that led to the Statesman offices where he knew you’d been staying. Champ didn’t say anything when Whiskey carried you inside your temporary apartment, snoring away, but he wished things would work out between the two of you. His hopes were dashed as soon as Whiskey asked for a pen to sign the papers you’d brought with you.

When you woke up, still hungover from the night before, the divorce papers were stuck on top of the pillow beside you. You wished you could say you were happy about it, but you couldn’t deny that a pit was in the bottom of your stomach.

Once you rolled out of bed and had some coffee, the papers were sealed into an envelope and you drove to the post office to mail it out. You’d talk to Jack afterwards and apologize for your behavior.

When you got to the familiar farmhouse, you found Jack’s dog Midnight lounging at the base of the porch. You scratched his ears, and he whined happily at the attention he was receiving. The dog got up and raced up to Jack when he came out of the house with a crate.

“What’s she doing here, huh, boy?” He asked the dog before turning to face you, “Thought you’d have high-tailed it out of here by now.”

“I put the money back in your account.” You said quietly, searching his face for any emotion whatsoever.

“Thanks. Saves me from bouncing a lot of checks.” He smiled at you, a genuine smile, and it caught you off guard. “I like what you did, though, to the house. Should help it sell quicker.”

“You’re moving?” You were surprised. This was the house you and Jack had gotten and fixed up together in the early stages of your marriage and it held a lot of good memories along with quite a few bad ones.

“Well, I’ve been spending a lot of my time a bit south of the distillery, so . . .” he shrugged.

“Oh.”

“Look, hon, I signed your papers.” Jack sighed, finally hauling the crate into the back of his truck.

“Jack, I never meant to hurt you, or anybody else for that matter. And I just came out here to say thank you.” You finally said.

“You might want to move your toes.” Jack nodded towards where your feet were in reference to his truck tires. “Wouldn’t wanna run ‘em over since you need them for field work.”

“You can’t just leave!”

“Sure I can.” He chuckled, hopping into the cab. “You want to come?”

“Where you goin’?”

“I want to show you something.” Jack said solemnly, and you wished you could go. Something made you stop, though.

“I can’t.” You finally answered, defeated.

“Can’t or won’t?” Jack asked you, already knowing the answer but asking anyway.

“Both.”

“The girl I knew used to be fearless.” Jack leaned against the steering wheel to get a good look at you. You looked so much like the woman he’d once known so intimately, and yet so different. A lot had scarred you both and he recognized that.

“The girl you knew didn’t have a life.” You smiled weakly, fighting back tears.

“Well, I guess you better get back to living it then. C’mon, Midnight.” Jack got his dog in the cab with him and drove off, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

_________________________________________________________________

You didn’t know what possessed you to stay in town now that the papers had been signed and mailed out, but you found yourself in the town square that evening for the weekly square dance night.

“Hello.” You murmured sheepishly once you’d spotted Tequila and his wife, Jenny, and Moonshine, and a few of the agents from last night at the bar. “I just wanted to apologize to y’all. Last night was so uncalled for, and I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“Brandy, forget it.” Tequila told you, a smile gracing his face. “You know we don’t stay mad for long.” The group nodded, and you smiled in relief.

Jenny pulled you to the side and handed you a glass of sweet tea.

“You know, he went up there.” She said, sort of secretively.

“Who?” You were confused about what she was talking about. But then she looked at you oddly and you suddenly knew. “Jack? When?”

“About a year after you left. He doesn’t know I know, but Aaron “big mouth” Tequila over there can’t keep a secret to save his life nowadays.”

“Jack was in New York?” You asked, completely surprised. You’d never seen him. He’d certainly never come to see you and say hello. Jenny nodded.

“He told Tequila he’d never seen anything like it. He realized straight off that he’d need more than an apology to win you back. He needed to conquer the world first. He’s been tryin’ ever since.” Jenny told you, downing her own tea.

“That’s why he kept sending the papers back.” You murmured, and Jenny nodded at you again.

“It’s funny how things don’t work out.” She sighed.

“It’s funny how they do.” You smiled warmly at her, knowing she was happy with her life and how it was turning out.

“Hey, look who I found wandering around the edge of the party.” Moonshine cheered, shoving Jack in the center of the group you were with. He had the nerve to look a bit sheepish, knowing you were there, but you were the one who blushed. After that, it was a whirlwind of everyone catching up on the times and you found yourself smiling at Jack.

The band finally started playing a slow song, and Tequila got up to ask you to dance, leaving his wife to drag Jack into the square. The both of you danced for awhile before Tequila stole his wife back, which left you and Jack standing face to face. Jack held out a hand to you to offer a dance, but you hesitated.

“Maybe we could just talk?” You asked him quietly. He shook his head and walked off, a sigh escaping your lips once you realized you were alone.

The night wore on with you on the sidelines, drinking sweet tea, and finally you made your way down the street towards your truck. Something stopped you, though, and you made your way into the coon dog cemetery on the edge of town. Maybe Coal was in there. You didn’t realize Jack had been watching you and finally ended up following you, and maybe you wouldn’t have been so honest in your talk with your old dog if you’d known.

You knelt beside the dog’s grave, his collar and your old license plate stuck to the stone placed above him.

“Hey there, buddy. Sorry it took me so long. I would’ve come sooner if I’d known you were sick.” You sniffed, fingers running along the etching of his name in the stone. “Actually, that’s probably not true. I’ve been pretty selfish lately. Dogs don’t know anything about that, do they, though?”

“You were always a big old pillow after missions. Like when everything went pear-shaped after I got shot, you never left my side. And then I just left you. Oh gosh. I bet you sat there on that big old porch, wondering what you done wrong.” You sobbed, wiping the tears away.

“I told him it was my fault.” Jack’s voice broke you out of your concentration and you whipped around to see him kneeling behind you.

“Quit bein’ so nice.” You sniffed, a small smile breaking through your tears. Jack offered you a hand to help you up and you accepted it. He led you to a bench right near Coal’s grave and kept holding your hand.

“It’s the truth.” Jack stated.

“How come everything has to be so complicated,” you asked tearfully. Jack smiled softly at you.

“What?” He asked finally.

“Truth, life, this,” you gestured between the two of you and towards the hand he was still holding in his grip. Jack didn’t answer that, not that you expected him to.

“He was one hell of a good dog, wasn’t he? You looked like you were having fun out there tonight before I got there and ruined it.” Jack mumbled. You brushed a thumb over your intertwined hands softly.

“I’m happy in New York, Jack.” You laughed wetly, “But then I come down here and this fits too.”

“Since when does it have to be one or the other, darlin’? You can have roots and wings, you know.” Jack told you. You nodded.

“Maybe I could just fly south for the winter.” You joked miserably.

Jack finally pointed out towards the woods and nudged your shoulder, “Look.”

“What?” You asked.

“There, see ‘em?” You followed his pointing finger until you realized that he was pointing at fireflies illuminating sections of the woods with their blinking behinds.

“Only you,” you laughed fondly, looking up at him. You couldn’t deny it, Jack was still just as handsome as the day you married him even if the years had gone by.

“You know, I still go out there sometimes. To the meadow, I mean. I hear the crickets and I go and sit in the field and stare up at the stars like we used to. It’s like a religion.” Jack revealed, turning to look down at you to gauge your response.

“I had a dream about it the other night, our first kiss when we were twelve. Remember that?”

“You ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten shot and died on that mission?” Jack asked bluntly. You were surprised and whispered his name.

“Just, let me get this out before I can’t.” Jack started, “I thought us working together on missions would be an adventure. I loved seeing you be this beautiful badass and I loved being the one who got to love you. And it took me awhile to realize that being tied down to me would be your only adventure.”

“I guess that thug knew what he was doing then, aiming at me. I was so ashamed, Jack, ‘cause I felt so relieved once I woke up and remembered everything. And all of a sudden, I just . . . Needed a different life. Y’know? I had to get away.” You were almost frantic in your story, the painful memories resurfacing of how you just ran away from your husband with no explanation. Gosh, the number you did on him.

“You done real well for yourself. I’m proud of you, sugar.” Jack told you sincerely, fingers brushing your hair away from your wet cheeks. “I’m just sorry I never danced with you at our weddin’. I’m sure this next one’s gonna go better for ya.”

You looked up and suddenly your lips were on his and it felt like you were breathing real air for the first time since you left his home and abandoned him. It felt good, his lips brushing yours in just the right ways, but you couldn’t do this.

“Jack, I can’t do this.” You whimpered through your tears. He nodded.

“I know. Go home, Brandy.”

And just like he’d appeared, Jack disappeared in the dark, leaving you alone with your conflicted emotions.

_________________________________________________________________

The next morning found Jack entering the Statesman offices as a man on a mission. But he found an unfamiliar man with flowers in hand, pacing in the lobby.

“Y’alright there?” He asked. The man whipped his head up and sighed.

“I’m here to surprise my fiancée. The secretary won’t let me in because I don’t have a Kentucky Statesman badge, only a New York one.”

Jack quickly realized the situation, knowing immediately that the man was there to see you without needing to be introduced. He also knew that you were probably in Champ’s office, talking smack about missions like you used to do.

“Well, I’m headed upstairs to see a friend of mine, but you’re welcome to join.” Jack motioned to the elevator, and your fiancé quickly nodded and followed him inside the cab. Jack rolled his eyes at the guy’s eagerness.

“So, fiancée huh? Which one of our lucky agents is it?” Jack drawled, knowing full well who this man meant.

“Agent Brandy.” The man answered, “and you are?”

“I’m Agent Whiskey. Who might you be?” Jack smirked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Agent Rum.” Rum laughed sheepishly. He was quite a bit smaller than Jack and had to look upwards to make eye contact.

“Ah, so you’re the man Brandy was talking about.” Jack couldn’t help but meddle a little in his ex-wife’s affairs.

“You know Brandy?” Rum asked, surprised.

“Course I know her. I know all about her.” Jack grinned down at the man, “I know her name, her whole life story, everything. She was my partner.”

“She never mentioned you.” Rum stammered. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same girl?”

Jack described you, and Rum nodded, but that description would match a few agents and Rum wasn’t sure Jack really knew who you were. Joke’s on him.

Moonshine got in the elevator and froze once he saw Jack with your fiancé. He’d looked Rum up as soon as you’d mentioned him, and the look Jack had on his face was downright scary to someone who knew him. It was like a lion playing with its prey.

“Uh, uh, hey Whiskey.” Moonshine stuttered.

“Morning,” Jack smiled. “Brandy here?”

Moonshine nodded.

“Yeah, yeah she’s here. She’s with big daddy.”

“Wonderful. I’m just escorting her fiancé here up to meet him.” Jack nodded towards Rum who waved a hand. Jack couldn’t figure out how this man got to be an agent, all timid and shy next to Southern guys. He seemed like a schmuck.

“Oh, that’s great.” Moonshine nodded emphatically.

“I’m sorry, you are?” Rum asked, in reference to Moonshine.

“Name’s Moonshine. I’m Brandy’s, uh—” her turned to look at Jack to figure out what to say.

“Her other partner.” Jack finished. Rum smiled at the two.

“Wow! Two partners while she was here. That’s something.”

Jack rolled his eyes behind the man’s back.

“So what do you like about our Brandy?” Jack finally asked him, directing the both of them to exit the elevator. Champ’s office was just down the way, but Jack wasn’t ready to leave this man with you yet.

Rum spouted off a lot of things that Jack knew you weren’t like whenever y’all were married and he quickly realized that the woman you were with this new guy wasn’t anything like the woman he married. The woman he’d seen in the last few days. This was a woman who had completely changed herself to fit New York, and that just made Jack’s stomach churn.

Finally, he pulled Rum over to Champ’s door and he threw open the doors. You were sat inside, alone, staring at a few photos on the wall before you looked up and made eye contact with your ex-husband. You stood quickly, walking over to the two men standing before you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking at Jack.

“Well, I came to deliver your fiancé.” Jack stared at you real hard.

“I, uh, think she was talking to me.” Rum cut in, handing you the bouquet of flowers he’d been holding.

“Jack . . .” You trailed off.

“Must be exhaustin’.” Jack started.

“What?” you asked softly. Rum echoed the question beside you, finally realizing that you and Jack were talking to each other in a way that wasn’t normal to him.

“Livin’ a lie.” Jack finished, hand shoving his hat further on his head. You shook.

“What’s he talking about?” Rum asked you, and you looked back at Jack, pleading for him to be kind.

“You and I are in love with two different people.” Jack said with a shake of his head as he left the room.

“Who is he really? He said he was your partner.” Rum asked you, staring after Jack’s retreating figure.

“He’s my husband.” You answered.

“Your what?” Rum was dumbfounded.

“I mean my ex-husband.” You gasped, correcting yourself.

“You married your partner?!” Rum was running his hands through his hair, trying to wrap his mind around the situation and realizing just how little he knew about you. Had you up and married another man while you were down here? Were you married before? You interrupted his thoughts with a quiet answer.

“No, I came down here to finalize my divorce.” You sighed.

“Hey darlin’,” Champ burst into the room, “just saw your precious hubby and took his resignation.” He froze once he saw who was with you. “Oh! You must be my baby girl’s new someone!”

You groaned internally.

Rum threw up his hands and made some new noise you’d never heard before then promptly left the room. You scurried after him, trying to get his attention.

“Blake! Wait!”

“I just—” Andrew started as he pressed the button on the outside of the elevator.

“Let me try and explain, you don’t understand!” You tried to wedge your way between him and the door, but he easily slid past you. You slammed your arm against the side of the sliding doors to keep them from closing. “This isn’t who I am anymore!”

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what else you’ve lied about, but I do know one thing. There’s a helicopter parked outside in the field, and I am on it.” Rum’s face was stony as the doors closed.

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, trying to grasp the situation. A sigh escaped your lips before you made your way back to Champ’s office to slump down in a chair.

Champ was sitting at his desk, Statesman glasses perched on his nose and a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He looked up right as you made eye contact and gave you his signature “I told you so” look. You groaned.

“I know you’re thinkin’ I spoiled things real good this time.” You grumbled, chucking your hat on the table.

“Now, sweetheart, don’t go accusin’ me of thinking. I ain’t done anything of the sort.” Champ snorted. “Anyway, I don’t think you spoiled what you think you did. You got a good head on your shoulders kid, and I love you.”

You talked for awhile, catching up on life and missions and things you hadn’t spoken of in years when a knock sounded on the open door of Champ’s office. Champ nodded whoever it was inside, but you didn’t even look up until Champ looked at you with a knowing smile.

“Hey, you two. Look who I found wandering around by the weapons labs.” Moonshine nudged someone forward and you finally looked up. Agent Rum, your fiancé, was in front of you with the sorriest look you’d ever seen on his face.

“I thought you’d be halfway to New York by now.” You said slowly, not sure why he was still here. Your little interlude an hour before sounded like a breakup if you’d ever heard one. You stood up and moved to stand beside Champ, knowing he’d back you up if needed.

“So did I.” Rum smiled sheepishly, nodding toward Champ.

“Oh, this is Agent Champagne, but we call him Champ. He’s basically been my daddy since I started here.” Champ reached up squeezed your hand in reassurance and you moved closer to Rum. “And this is Moonshine. He’s been my best friend for a long time, well, as long as I’ve been good to him. He’s always been a better man. This is where I started, where I grew up, and my home.”

“Well,” Rum started, “it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Agent Rum, Brandy’s fiancé. That is, if she’ll still have me.” You looked at him in surprise. “ Look, I don’t really care what just happened back there. So you have a past. I mean, who doesn’t? We’re all trying to escape something in this life. What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future.”

“Good Lord, he’s saying all sorts of sweet things.” Moonshine muttered and you laughed at him.

“Well?” Rum asked. You nodded with a small smile.

“Crap, guess I need to plan my vacation days to go to New York then.” Champ grumbled at his desk.

“What vacation days, old man?” You sassed Champ. You turned back to Rum, “Babe, what if we had the wedding here? I have so much history here, I’d like to end it all here and start fresh with you.”

Rum smiled and agreed and Champ started hollering about how he couldn’t believe you were going to do this to him again, how he’d have to officiate yet another wedding, and how many times does his only daughter get married? Apparently the answer was twice.

_________________________________________________________________

A month went by before you knew it, full of missions and planning and setting up temporary groups while you’d be on your honeymoon. In between all you had to do in the Statesman offices, you were also wedding planning. Luckily, you had Champ and his wife to help with all that along with AppleJack and your assistant.

Mr. Collier, your lawyer, had been calling nearly every day, but you’d assured him that you had everything handled and that he could clear the divorce without you. You’d been calling Jack a lot too. You wanted to talk to him about what Champ meant when he said Jack had retired, and why no one seemed to want to talk about what he was doing. But he never answered his cell and your old home phone seemed to be disconnected.

It still didn’t feel real that you’d be getting married on Saturday afternoon as you stepped off your Statesman jet at the airfield in Kentucky on Thursday with Agent AppleJack and your assistant—now newly minted Agent Smirnoff.

“You guys remember that mark from a year ago on that mission I was on for about three months, right? The Spanish one?” AppleJack was telling you. You nodded, remembering who she was talking about. He’d been rugged and good looking, and you’d told her as much when you handed her the mission. “Well, he proposed to me, and I think I loved him despite his obvious attraction to black market trading.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?” Smirnoff asked.

“Because I hesitated long enough to realize my head and my heart were saying two different things. And he was on the other side of the legal fence.” AppleJack scoffed.

You guided the two of them towards your waiting truck and chucked your bags in the bed of it. Theirs followed as they argued.

“Well, it’s a big decision.” You added in.

“It’s supposed to be the easiest one you ever make.” Smirnoff said. You’d always thought he was a romantic, and now you were sure of it.

“Hey, y’all, I want to stop somewhere before we head to the office. Okay?” You turned to look at the two of them, and they shrugged before agreeing. It wasn’t like y’all had much to do today anyway. Champ had already assured you that the cellar was decorated and pretty for you and Rum to tie the knot, and that he’d already arranged everything for your honeymoon too.

You drove the forty-five minutes it took to get to your parents’ old farmhouse where you used to live before it had burned down, taking both your parents with it when you were nineteen. You hadn’t been there since a few days after the fire when you’d set up headstones for your parents on the property, but you wanted to tell them what was going on.

The driveway was long, but you were surprised to see how well kept it was. Then the house came into view along with Jack’s pickup truck and a familiar black dog lounging on the steps. You slammed on the brakes and parked right off the driveway, jumping out of the vehicle.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, looking at the place. It looked nearly identical to the house that burnt down, but there was a new barn in the back of the house and fence posts as far as you could see down the drive that kept going. Your dad had never cleared that far into the woods, but it looked good. It looked like a really successful ranch had been started right where so much devastation had taken place.

“Brandy, do we know the people who live here?” AppleJack asked, finally catching up to your quick walk towards the house. “What is this place?”

A man walked out of the house and froze once he saw you, and you hardly heard both AppleJack and Smirnoff arguing about if he was single.

“Jack,” you breathed. He stepped down off the porch and came over to you, greeting you with a sad smile. “I tried to call you a couple of times.”

“Listen,” he started, completely ignoring your previous statement, “since you’re here, you and your friends should look around. Say hello to the horses in the barn or something. It’s nice out today.” He tipped his hat towards your two companions and called his dog, making his way back into the house before you could say anything else.

You shook your head, trying to clear your eyes of the tears that had somehow started filling them. As you looked around the ranch, you saw all the little things that Jack had done, as well as the big, that made this place feel so much like home. It was almost exactly the way it had been when you lived there so long ago, and you were reminded of the photo Jack had on your old mantel. You’d asked him why he kept it, but he hadn’t answered then. And the times when the guys you used to work with were trying to tell you that Jack was successful now, but Jack had cut them off. Now you knew why. He’d built this place for you.

_________________________________________________________________

When you got to the Kentucky office, Champ was waiting for you downstairs.

“Hey, little darling, there was a man here for you. He straight up asked about your whole name and everything. Did you have a guest coming for the wedding we didn’t know about who’d know your civilian name?” He asked. Your brow furrowed as you shook your head. “Alright, well we sent him on his way, anyhow. I’m sure it’s fine.”

You introduced him to your two companions and Champ grinned, happy to meet two people you trusted with your life. You asked him if Rum was here yet, to which Champ nodded and guided you all inside. “Got here about two hours before you, sweetheart.”

Once you were inside, it seemed like a whirlwind of things happened as you readied yourself to get married for a second time. The next 36 hours were hell, waiting for everything to be finalized so you could get hitched.

It was Saturday morning and Champ had stationed two low ranking agents to man the guests as they filtered into the cellar where you’d be holding the wedding. So far, only agents were to be in attendance and a few plus ones, but you’d wanted to keep it small. So when a balding man appeared and introduced himself as Mr. Collier, telling the two agents that he wasn’t on the list, they promptly told him that he couldn’t come inside as he wasn’t invited. The man insisted he had urgent business with a Ms. Daniels, but the agents weren’t having it and escorted him out of the cellar.

Meanwhile, at your old house, the one you had shared with Jack, your ex-husband was adding the last few crates and boxes of his and your things to his truck. He groaned once he saw his mama leaning up against her car in the driveway since he hadn’t seen her pull up.

“Hey, sweetheart, there’s a wedding goin’ on.” She said softly, helping him throw a gym bag into the backseat of his truck.

“Yeah, I heard mention of it a time or two.” Jack shrugged, “I sure hope this weather cooperates. It’s supposed to be a big storm.” He didn’t want to give into his mama and tell her how he really felt about all this.

The truth was, Jack was devastated. He’d spent so much time trying to get his wife back, and now she was marrying a man he knew she didn’t love as much as she loved him, and it hurt. It felt like something had died inside his chest, and he supposed something did. His heart.

“You know, Jack, you’re my only son and I love you, but sometimes you are too much like your daddy.” Helen sighed.

“She made her decision, Mama.” Jack set the last box in the bed of the truck and covered them up with tarps to keep ‘em dry.

“For somebody who’s been holdin’ onto somethin’ so hard, you’re pretty quick to let it go.” Helen eyed him.

“You know I can’t control her anymore than I can control the weather. I gotta go. I wanna get these inside before the rain ruins whatever I’ve got left.” Jack tipped his hat at his mama and climbed inside the cab. Helen shook her head in disappointment.

Champ stood in the corner of the apartment you’d been occupying in the Statesman office that weekend, watching you adjust your dress and cowboy boots. He smirked once he realized you’d be getting married, Southern style with the boots and a dress that he swore he’d seen in one of those fancy Southern Living magazines his wife was always reading. Or was it Southern Weddings? He didn’t know, but you looked beautiful. Even more so than the first time he’d officiated your wedding to Jack.

You kept fidgeting, causing Champ to speak up.

“It’s just nerves. You’re doing the right thing.” He attempted to reassure you.

“Am I?” You asked, unsure.

“When I married my wife, Lord, I was a goner for that woman. I couldn’t put one foot down in front of the other, despite being an agent with perfect balance, mind you. I remember standin’ there thinking, ‘Oh preacher, better hurry up before this woman changes her mind.’ And look where it got me. Sometimes she drives me so crazy that I could shoot her, but—”

“But you still love her.” You cut him off.

“God knows I do, and only she knows why.” Champ laughed, his eyes teary as he looked you over.

“Champ, I think I—”

“He can give you a life in this company, honey. You’ve always wanted this. And he adores you.” Champ said firmly, not letting you get back on the confusion train.

“He does, doesn’t he?” You sighed, “Well, even if he is a Yankee, at least he’s sober. Let’s go, Champ. I’m ready to get this over with.”

Champ led you down to the cellars, and then down the aisle. He didn’t get you two very far, though, when a man’s shouts were heard yelling “Ms. Daniels! Ms. Daniels!”

You whipped around, confused about why someone would be calling you by your married name. “Mr. Collier?” You asked in surprise. The two agents supposed to be manning the door had grabbed him by now, but you were quick to dismiss them.

Rum called your name, but you held up a hand to stop him from speaking. You didn’t know why Mr. Collier was here, but it had to be important if he was trying this hard to get in contact with you. The man took a moment to catch his breath.

“You are one hard woman to get in contact with.” Mr. Collier wheezed as he bent over to breathe.

“Mr. Collier, he signed the papers.” You said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“He did. You didn’t.” You finally noticed the papers he was holding and sucked in a breath.

“What? You mean I’m still married?” You asked, unsure how you felt about this new information. You thought for sure you’d signed the papers when you’d sent them off the day after Jack had signed them. Apparently, you hadn’t. Mr. Collier pointed at the line above Jack’s name, and sure enough, it was blank.

“Well, not if you don’t want to be.” Mr. Collier replied gently as he handed over the papers.

“For goodness sake, Brandy, I thought you took care of this?” Rum groaned as he made his way to stand in the aisle beside you.

“It’s an honest mistake, Blake.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“Well, then, can we fix it? We’ve got agents who need to be on missions soon and we have a honeymoon to get to.” Rum snorted. Your brows furrowed as you watched this normally kind man getting frustrated over a mistake you hadn’t even realized you made.

“Does anybody have a non-deadly pen?” You asked, knowing no one would have one on them unless it had ten functions to kill someone and not one of them being the purpose of a real pen with ink that would actually stay on the paper. You’d made the mistake before of signing something with ink that removed itself within two hours and you didn’t want to make that mistake again.

No one around you had one, not even Champ, until a woman behind you cleared her throat. You turned around to face your mother in law, Jack’s mom.

“These things don’t just happen, y’know.” Helen said with a knowing smile as she held out a fountain pen. You took it and uncapped it, placing it on the paper but not moving to sign it.

“You can’t ride two horse with one ass, sweetheart.” Champ said from beside you. You looked up at him and with a watery smile, you told him you couldn’t sign the papers.

“Blake,” you started, taking his hands in yours, “You don’t want to marry me.”

“I don’t?” He asked, eyes almost looking dangerous.

“No, you don’t. Not really. You see, the truth is—” You hesitated before continuing. “I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back. And I don’t even know what else to say besides ‘I’m sorry.’ I can’t marry you, and you shouldn’t want to marry me.”

“So this is what it feels like.” Blake muttered, eyes definitely glittering with anger now. “You can’t just do this to me. That’s it? You’re just going to leave me for the man you haven’t even wanted to be married to for seven years? God, Brandy, what the hell!” He shouted.

You took a step back, attempting to make space and remove your hands from his, but he held your hands tightly. You gulped, knowing Blake wasn’t done.

“In my entire career, and I have a good one, I have never met someone so deceitful and manipulative! I should’ve known, considering our occupations, but this is so disgusting what you’ve done.” Blake spat.

“I’m just trying to be honest.” You whispered.

“You are such a little bitch.” Blake roughly dropped your hands and Champ immediately stepped in, crowding the shorter agent.

“Now, look here, Agent Rum. She said her piece and there’s no need for name-callin’, you hear me?” Champ growled.

“Oh go back to your office and get shit-faced.” Blake spat at Champ’s feet. You saw red.

“Nobody talks to my daddy like that.” You growled, throwing one of your best punches. Agent Rum was soon on the ground and you chucked your engagement ring at his head. It hit his cheek and bounced off somewhere, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Praise the Lord, my baby’s back.” Champ cheered, pulling you away from your ex-fiancé.

“Hey y’all!” You shouted as you stood up on an empty chair in the venue, “If you’re friends of the bride, stick around! I’m gonna go find me a groom!”

And then you were off, grabbing your keys from Moonshine and hopping in your truck, wedding dress getting stuck in the door. You didn’t care, though. You knew exactly where Jack would be and you planned to go get your man back.

You roared into the meadow, truck chassis bumping around on the uneven ground. The door was flung open and you were racing across the field, dress bunched in your hands. Rain had started falling, and Jack was sitting in the bed of his truck getting sopping wet. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hands, but he hadn’t quite noticed you yet.

“Hey, cowboy!” You shouted above the rain and he whipped around to face you, eyes wide beneath the brim of his hat. Rain dripped off the edges and you almost laughed at how bedraggled he looked, but refrained. “You owe me a dance.”

“Nice dress. Where’s your husband?” Jack finally said as he capped the whiskey bottle and set it down beside him in the truck bed.

“I’m lookin’ at him.” You said, and Jack froze. “Apparently, you and I are still hitched.”

“Is that right?” He asked slowly as he got off the tailgate. He made his way over to stand in front of you, rain still pouring over the both of you to the point where you could only really see him anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me you came to New York?” You asked desperately, needing to know if he still wanted you, if he still loved you.

“I needed to make somethin’ of myself.”

“About done?” You asked in disbelief. This man was already enough for you, how could he not see it?

“What is it about you Southern girls? You can’t make the right decisions ‘til you tried all the wrong ones?” Jack scoffed. He was sure this was some elaborate joke, that your fiancé would hop out of your pickup truck and laugh at him any minute now.

“At least I fight for what I want!”

“Oh, what do you want, honey? Hell, I don’t even think you know.” Jack shook his head.

“You’re the first boy I ever kissed, Jack, and I want you to be the last.” You said as you stepped closer to him, dress dragging in the grass and dirt. You didn’t even care, not if it meant you could get your husband back.

“Maybe you and I had our chance.” Jack muttered, hoping you couldn’t hear him, but you did.

“Fine! Have it your way, stubborn ass!” You yelled.

“Whatcha wanna be married to me for anyhow?” Jack asked, repeating what you’d asked him all those years ago when you were twelve. You grinned, catching up to his game.

“So I can kiss you anytime I want.”

And then you were in his arms and he was kissing you, his hat dumping water on the both of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were already soaked. You’d gotten your man back, and you sighed into his mouth. You didn’t want to move again, the feeling of his kiss bringing life back into your lungs and giving you space to breathe for the first time in a long time. He just felt right. Hands wandered up his back and you knocked off his hat in an effort to get even closer to him. He groaned when fingers locked into his now soaked hair, tongue slipping into your mouth when you whined.

You only broke away when you heard someone yelling at the both of you, lights shining right onto your interlocking figures.

“What the hell are you two trying to do? Get yourselves killed?” Tequila yelled. You laughed, breaking away from Jack just long enough to shout back.

“What seems to be the trouble, officer?”

“I’m here to bring you in again, little lady!” Tequila called back, hands on his hips and looking downright hilarious.

“What did she do this time?” Jack shouted. He walked you both closer to Tequila and the man had the audacity to grin at the two of you.

“Well, the way I hear it, seems she run out on a perfectly good cake!”

You laughed and smooched Jack on the cheek before reaching down to grab his hat from the ground.

“Get in my truck, cowboy!” You grinned, “Seems we finally get our reception!”

You raced your husband to your truck, hopping in and laughing at the way you both shivered from the cool air you’d had blasting. Jack swore and turned on the heat as you got yourselves out of the meadow and started following the red and blue flashing lights of Tequila’s patrol car.

You reached a hand over to hold Jack’s and he lifted your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to the knuckles.

“I love you.” He murmured and you returned the sentiments, happy for the first time in a long time.

Tequila led you to the bar Helen owned, and you laughed once you realized where the guys had decided to hold your reception. It was only fitting that the place where you’d originally hosted your first reception was now the place of your second, and with the same man no less.

Tequila made his way indoors first and introduced you, yelling out a “Ladies and gentleman, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Daniels!”

You rushed inside, nearly tripping over your boots and dress, but Jack steadied you, dipping you for a deep kiss just inside the door.

Catcalls filled the air as Jack lifted you back up, a boyish grin gracing his lips.

“I do believe I owe this lady a dance,” Jack nodded at his Mama by the jukebox and she smiled at the two of you.

“You sure do!” Moonshine shouted.

“Hey Helen,” you turned to Jack’s mama, “make it a slow one.”

She saluted you, and then hit a button, playing Tennessee Whiskey. Jack snorted at the song choice as he held your waist in the middle of the space they’d cleared for a dance floor, but you didn’t mind. You’d always joked that the song was about him with his Statesman name, and he hated it. You loved him, though.

You had your husband back and you weren’t ever going to give him up again. You swayed to the song for a moment before leaning up to kiss him. Finally, you were home.

#jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x female reader #agent whiskey x female reader #jack daniels #agent whiskey #statesman #sweet home alabama #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #jack ‘whiskey’ daniels #mandoclan #mandoclan writes

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scxrlettwxtches · 3 years

Text

urgent romance intervention | kim seungmin

genre: slight angst, fluff, humor

warnings: none!

prompt: everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends--oh wait--

word count: ~3.2k

a/n: first of all, im so sorry for literally dropping off the face of the earth after opening requests. i’ve been in a deep writing slump and i just managed to somewhat pull myself out of it with this fic. >.< to the lovely anon who sent this, im so so sorry if this isnt as good as you wanted it! i’ve just been having a very hard time writing. i hope this isn’t too far off from what you expected! as always, im so so grateful to everyone who has supported this blog, it means so much to me! love you all! <3

“We are not dating!”

This was absolutely ridiculous. Of all the crazy things you had imagined yourself doing once you got to college, you never thought you'd be having to deny dating allegations (from some pretty close friends, no less). What made this situation even more bizarre, was the fact that the topic of these allegations, your supposed “boyfriend,” was none other than your best friend, Kim Seungmin.

“There's no need to be so private, Y/N. We aren't prudes here,” Jisung looked far too smug sitting across from you as you worked on your project together at a random campus cafe with your other group member, Minho.

You couldn't help but scoff at his words, writing in your notebook with a little more ferocity than usual. A little was an understatement, actually; your pencil was practically cutting into three pages at this point, “I'm not being private, I'm being honest. I'm not dating Seungmin.”

“Are you sure?” Jisung continued to press for details, leaning forward with wide eyes.

“I think I'd be aware if I was dating my best friend,” you rolled your eyes, taking another big bite of your croissant, holding it with your left hand as you continued to take notes with your right.

Minho coughed and muttered the words similar to, “You'd be surprised,” under his breath, but you were too sick of this conversation to care.

You had a total of five minutes of pleasant peace and quiet when Jisung spoke up once more, “I think you two are cute, for what it’s worth,” he said, nibbling at his cheesecake.

“I very much appreciate it, but I’d appreciate it much more if you actually worked on our project,” you smiled pleasantly, gripping your mechanical pencil so hard you were sure it would snap. Jisung huffed, blowing the hair out of his face when your phone buzzed on the table.

“Oh, it’s your boyfriend,” Minho interjected with a smug smile.

You scowled. You definitely didn’t get enough sleep to be in the mood to deal with this, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone.

“Are you sure? I bet you it’s him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s in class right now, and you know Seungmin hates to text--” your voice died right in your throat as you stared at the notification. What the hell was going on? Since when did Seungmin ever text anyone during his classes? But phones don’t lie, and the alert was definitely about the two unread messages from your best friend.

seungmo

wanna get dinner tonight?

i got a reservation at the hotel restaurant you like

how in the world did you get that?! i try to get it for special occasions and i always have to book like three months in advance

seungmo

just some connections

wanna go?

hell yeah. see ya soon :)

“So, who’s the lucky texter?” Jisung put his elbows on the table, smiling at you with a devious smirk.

You gave both him and Minho a wary glare as you slipped your phone back into your bag, flipping around your textbook again and continuing to work on the project as you muttered, “Seungmin.”

“Ah, see? I knew he cared about you more than school,” Minho sighed dreamily, which honestly made you want to hurl, “That’s true love, isn’t it, Sungie?”

Jisung nodded fervently and you finally snapped, throwing your pen down, “Why the fuck does everyone think we’re dating?! We’re not!”

“Oh yeah? So what did he text you about?” Jisung asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You pursed your lips, snapping once more, “Just about--” you faltered slightly, processing Seungmin’s messages as your expression morphed from indignant to almost confused.

“About what, Y/N?” Jisung tried again, a smile already quirking his lips upward as he studied your expression. Damn him. Damn Minho. Damn this whole fucking thing.

“About going out for dinner,” you answered under your breath, resting your chin on your arms as you muttered defensively, “It’s not even that big of a deal. We eat dinner together all the time.”

Minho snorted, “Of course. I bet he even said he made reservations at some fancy ass restaurant,” When the only answer to his accusation was silence, he couldn’t help but scoff, “For someone as bright as you, you’re pretty oblivious about flirting, aren’t you?”

“Watch it,” There was an undertone of a growl as you bared your teeth at him, “I’m the only reason you’re all getting A’s on this project. Don’t test me.”

Jisung shrugged, “If it means finally getting you laid, I’m willing to take an L,” he said simply, twirling his pen as your cheeks grew flush, and with an angry huff, taking your notebook and smacking his arm with it.

“My sexual life is none of your business,” you snapped, steam practically shooting out of your head as you glared at the two boys. How you three ended up being friends was always going to be something you’d never understand.

“It was none of our business because there was nothing to talk about. Things are different now, sweetie,” Minho snickered, giggling with Jisung like a pair of gossipy school girls as he whispered to you , “Trust me, I got this information first hand. Did you know Seungmin actually has a monster--”

“That’s it. You’re doing this project on your own.”

“W-wait--Y/N!”

“Of course you can skip overtime today! It’s not like you’re ever obligated to stay,” your boss at the local bookstore said happily as you hesitantly asked her if it would be alright if you didn’t close up for the day.

Still, despite her reassurances, you bit your lip, “A-are you sure? I could tell my friend to just go with someone else,” you trailed off just as the woman took your hands in hers, shaking her head fervently.

“No, no, no, don’t do that. Of course, you can leave at six. Hell, I wouldn’t even mind if you left at five since you already do so much for me,” she chuckled, smiling at you, “Where are you going? Party? Club?”

“No,” you said with a sheepish smile to compliment her wolfish grin. You both knew that alcohol was definitely not your thing “Just a fancy dinner at a fancy place, apparently.”

"Oh! With a boyfriend?" She asked as the two of you walk around sorting the newly arrived books into different categories.

Your face burned with embarrassment, "No, it's just Seungmin," you muttered in response, carrying a stack of books over to a large pile of nonfiction novels.

"So, a boyfriend," she said simply, not even bothering to look at you.

Unlike with Minho and Jisung, you couldn't blow up at her or snap. Not just because she was your boss, but because Mrs. Kim was probably the sweetest woman alive, and you could never bear saying anything remotely rude towards her.

"Seungmin isn't my boyfriend, Mrs. Kim," you replied politely as you checked a book for rips or printing errors before putting it into the newly growing pile.

"He's not? But he's always looking after you, dear!" Mrs. Kim looked almost offended by your denial, which was exactly what you were trying to avoid.

You shuffled uncomfortably, "Well, we've been best friends for years, and his mom would kill him if he didn't take care of me,” you quickly fumbled for an excuse and smiled like you were being forced to take a yearbook photo or pose with the sun hitting your eyes.

"I've never seen a best friend spend his whole paycheck getting their friend a limited edition of a book series they were dying to get," Mrs. Kim pointed out rather dryly. Where was this sass coming from? Was this really the same woman that fed you homemade pastries on your first day of work? It certainly didn't feel like it.

"He only bought it because I was practically nagging him for months,” your excuses became more relaxed as you let them spill off your lips more. After all, they've lived in your head for the last seven years. It was just like dusting off an old notebook.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Mrs. Kim threw her hands up in utter exasperation as she barked, "Hyunjin!"

The poor boy almost dropped the pile of books he was carrying as his head whipped up to look at Mrs. Kim with a panicked expression. He never really got over the trauma of spilling tea all over Mrs. Kim's favorite book even though she forgave him after a day of sulking.

"Yes?" he squeaked, his eyes wide as he was probably preparing himself to die at the hands of your boss. It would be almost funny how afraid Hyunjin was of a sixty year old woman if you weren't just as terrified of her when she barked your name.

"Who's Y/N dating?" she asked.

Hyunjin's panicked expression all but vanished as he realized that he wasn't the one in trouble, and he answered matter-of-factly as he glanced over at you, "Seungmin. Why?"

You sputtered in indignation. First Jisung, then Minho, and now Hyunjin, too?

"We're not dating!" You exclaimed for what was probably the twentieth time in the last two hours alone.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "Please, you're not fooling anybody here."

You gawked at Hyunjin, unsure whether you wanted to sock him in the face or rat him out to Changbin for replacing the rapper's shampoo with pink dye, "What in the world gave you the idea that we're together?"

"Y/N, you two literally hold hands unironically," Hyunjin pointed out.

"Friends do that all the time!"

"He ditches us in an instant whenever you call him to hang out."

"That's because you guys see each other every day, and I only get to see him on the weekends."

"He was literally draped around you during movie night last weekend."

"Maybe he's just touchy."

Hyunjin glanced at you with a skeptical eyebrow, immediately calling out your bullshit, "You didn't seriously call Kim Seungmin a touchy person, did you?"

You looked away scowling, because Hyunjin always had an uncanny knack for seeing through people's masks. Especially with you; you knew he always suspected your hidden feelings for your best friend, even when the rest of his friends were happily oblivious.

Mrs. Kim raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you so against the idea of dating him? Because let me tell you, as a girl that hooked up with boys left and right during my prime time-"

"Oh my god, Mrs. Kim, I really didn't need to hear that," you groaned in mortification, covering your flushed face with a book.

"He's one of the good ones," Mrs. Kim finished before glancing at you with a bemused smile, "If it's not because you don't want him, then what's the problem, dear?"

You felt cornered. It wasn't fair. Hyunjin and Mrs. Kim were looking at you like they knew everything when they didn't. They didn’t know how much you’ve pined over this man, how much carefully crafted effort and time you’ve spent trying desperately to get over him.

"I don't want to think that I'm special and then have to wake up to the cruel realization that I'm not," you said flatly, although from the shift in Hyunjin's expression, he could hear the pained inflection hidden in your voice.

He opened his mouth to say something probably reassuring when Mrs. Kim interrupted, “So it's fear. What are you afraid is going to happen?”

This was definitely the wrong time to be having a conversation like this, during working hours when you were supposed to probably be helping customers. But there was no one in the store and no one outside about to come in either, so you couldn't help but be a little revealing.

“We don't go to the same school anymore,” you explained uncomfortably, “If he hasn't already, he'll probably meet someone kinder, gentler, softer than I could ever be. I don't even have the advantage of time on my side now.”

“Okay, first off,” Hyunjin interrupted, glancing at Mrs. Kim and then back at you, “Seungmin has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. He's totally hung up on you, just like he was back in high school."

"You don't know that," you muttered, fumbling with your fingers.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "Don't tell me what I know and don't know. I literally see him checking his messages for your replies at least twice every ten minutes."

“Stop it,” you snapped, looking at him, eyes blazing, “Stop making this sound obvious. You don’t have any right to act like a fucking love expert when all everyone does is fawn over you--”

“Okay, both of you need to cool off. We’re still in a bookstore here,” Mrs. Kim glared at Hyunjin who immediately lost his high horse attitude and ducked away to keep working.

"Darling," Mrs. Kim took your hands in hers, the anger on her face softening into an expression akin to sympathy, "I don't know what you've gone through to think that you're not worthy, but take it from the words of an old woman. If a boy is waiting for you to get off of work with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, chances are that he thinks of you as more than a friend."

You blinked at her in confusion before following her line of sight, and your heart did a weird backflip as you saw none other than Kim Seungmin, standing outside of the bookstore with a sheepish smile and bouquet of roses in his hands.

This was definitely the strangest day of your life, you thought as you sat directly across from Seungmin, absently admiring the rose petals. It was one thing for Seungmin to take you out for dinner (he always liked spending his big fat paycheck from interning at that fancy tech company), but the flowers threw you off.

Weren’t roses meant for dates? Was this a date? You looked around at the lavish restaurant, the candlelit atmosphere and the plethora of couples eating around you.

No, definitely not a date.

"Are you alright?" Seungmin asked with the gentle smile he only showed you. Funny, was it Hyunjin corrupting your mind, or did Seungmin's eyes sparkle when you looked at him?

You nodded, carefully putting down the flowers on the ground underneath your chair to make sure no one accidentally steps on them, "Yeah, I just had a weird day."

"Weird how?" Seungmin reached for your hand that was resting on the table, causing your stomach to do a somersault. Damn those stupid boys who just don't know when to keep their mouths shut! You just can't stop overthinking things anymore!

Wait. Now that you think about it, no thanks to those little shits, Seungmin has been abnormally affectionate the last few times you've hung out, holding your hand, letting you rest your head on his shoulder when you got tired, even full on cuddling with you when Jisung hosted a group movie night at his apartment. You'd reasoned it all in your head that he was probably just going through his more clingy phases, but now thinking back, Seungmin never liked to cuddle, even in his most clingy moments. And yet, he'd wordlessly pulled you to his chest that movie night as if he'd wanted you to cuddle with him all his life, even when his friends were around.

“Y/N?” He prompted gently, his eyes now filled with a hint of concern as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

The rational part of you wanted to just forget this whole thing. The boys say dumb shit all the time; how can this be any different? It would be so simple, so easy for you to just do as you’ve always done when it came to your feelings and run away.

But your heart, your lonely heart that has known nothing but secret glances and unrequited love was aching to take a chance. Minho, Jisung, and Hyunjin were idiots, but they weren’t cruel. They wouldn’t give you this false hope for nothing.

And for the first time, your heart won over, and you decided to be honest.

“Well, the boys keep saying that we’re dating,” you chuckled sheepishly, trying not to focus on Seungmin’s hand wrapped around yours.

To your surprise, Seungmin’s eyes grow wide as saucers as he all but squeaked, “They what now?”

You blinked, trying to be too taken aback by his reactions, “Minho and Jisung just yabbering on about us, and Hyunjin didn’t bat an eye when my boss asked him who I was dating,” you glanced at him, throwing caution to the wind as you asked hesitantly, “You don’t happen to know about this, right?”

Seungmin might as well have held up a giant flashing sign that said he absolutely knew about it. His ears grew bright red, redder than you’ve ever seen them turn, and he stammered for a moment, trying to find his words, “I-I--um--I told them not to use that plan.”

The carefully crafted excuse to get both of you out of this awkward situation that you held on the tip of your tongue immediately disintegrated, “W-what plan?” you stuttered out in disbelief.

Seungmin looked almost crushed as he pulled his hand out of yours, putting his head in his hands as he rested his arms on the table, “This stupid plan they made for me to ask you out,” he muttered, and if your hearing was ever so slightly worse, you would’ve missed those words completely.

“Why would you need a plan to ask me out?” you asked, and your heart could almost leap out of your chest at this point. It felt horrid waiting, waiting for the confession or the rejection. You’d almost regretted opening this can of worms when Seungmin suddenly looked up at you, his expression distraught.

“Why?” he repeated, smiling bitterly, “Was I really so out of your league that you didn’t notice how in love with you I’ve been this entire time?”

Your mind went blank and it felt as if someone had yanked the ground out from under you. This whole image of unrequited affection, this whole idea that you were never good enough for Seungmin to even look your way, it was all a farce, a con that was now being torn apart by his simple question.

“S-seungminnie,” your voice refused to work the way you wanted it to, and you stumbled over your words, “I didn’t know--I’m so sorry--I had no idea…”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Seungmin immediately sounded concerned as he watched you fall apart in front of him, “You didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to be sorry for--”

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you!” You blurted out, looking into his warm, brown eyes as the shame bubbled out of your chest and you lowered your head, “I thought...I thought you would find someone better than me at your new university, at your new job.”

Seungmin sighed, and he reached over, resting to fingers under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him as he smiled, “There’s no one else I want except you,” he whispered, and you could’ve sworn your heart combusted right there.

And when Seungmin took you to the Christmas lights after dinner, the bouquet of roses still in your arms as he pressed his soft lips against yours, you couldn’t wait to go up to your friends the next day and proudly declare that yes, you were absolutely dating Kim Seungmin.

(and maybe give them a Starburst for making it happen.)

a/n: im sorry im rereading this and it’s trash plsdontkillme

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

in line.

Aaron Hotchner x Male Reader

request from anon: Thank you for sharing your writing on here! A blurb idea, because I hardly see any male readers, is that maybe Hotch has figured out he’s attracted to men too and has a boyfriend? Someone Hotch can go home to and be taken care of by them, someone Jack trusts? Because hotch spends all his time caring for the team, his s/o really spoils him with affection and TLC. I’m really soft for that idea, and the team being real pleased he’s found someone who appreciates him again. Hope you’re doing well! a/n: i wanted to give this a little more attention than a blurb, so it turned into a Whole Thing™ words: 2790 warnings: swearing, some drinking, derek being charming, and emily prentiss: patron saint of The Gays™

i don't have a specific male!reader taglist yet, so i added all yall on my gn!reader list, so nobody would miss this! lemme know if you wanna stay on the male!reader list or not - you’ll never hurt my feelings :)

masterlist | requests closed!

Aaron came home to all the lights off save one, illuminating a little scene before him - dinner (still hot) on the coffee table, a glass of wine, and you, holding the remote ready to start a movie.

He smiled, set his briefcase down, and slipped his shoes off.

“Jack’s at Jess’s,” you said, before he could ask. “I thought it would be a nice surprise to spend the evening, just you and me.”

He crossed to the couch and sat down, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “It’s a great surprise, thank you.” You grabbed his tie and tried to pull him down on the couch, but he pried your fingers off and laughed. “Let me change and I’ll come sit with you, alright?”

You picked up your glass of wine and tipped it his direction. “I’ll be here.”

It was true. When he returned and dropped down next to you, you were waiting for him. When he was firmly settled with dinner, you started the movie.

After a while, you asked, “Did the case go okay?”

He nodded. “We got ‘im. I had to stay and make sure the DA had a strong enough case, otherwise I would have been home yesterday.”

You leaned into him, and he wrapped an arm around you. “I don’t mind. Jack and I went out for a bike ride yesterday and didn’t miss you at all, not even a little.”

Aaron laughed. “Good.”

+++

“Damn it.”

Aaron forgot his lunch. He could see it in his mind’s eye, sitting there next to his travel mug of coffee on the kitchen island. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he had just resigned himself to a takeout lunch when his phone rang.

“Hotchner.”

“Babe, you left your lunch here,” the light amusement in your tone dissolved his sour mood, and he smiled despite himself.

“I noticed.”

He could hear you shuffling around in the background as you spoke. “I’ll swing by and leave it downstairs after I drop Jack at school. No more than an hour, okay?”

Aaron smiled and sat in his chair, leaning back. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You laughed. “Absolutely nothing. I’m just a sucker for charity cases.” There was a shuffle, and you heard Jack laugh. You were probably at the table, poking the kid in the ribs until he almost got sick with laughter. Before Aaron could respond again, you said, “Alright, love you, bye!” and hung up.

Aaron rolled his eyes and got to work.

True to your word, no more than an hour later found you at the front of the Quantico Federal Building, Aaron’s lunch and coffee in your hand. You’d never seen the inside, but you knew you were on the visitors list.

Fuck it.

You checked in, got your visitor’s badge, and made your way to the sixth floor with only a little bit of spatial confusion. You knew which bullpen was theirs immediately - you had yet to meet the team, but you’d seen pictures and heard enough stories to keep track of names and faces.

You quickly stepped through the glass doors, doing everything in your power to avoid directing too much attention to yourself. But alas, Aaron worked with profilers, and they all noticed you despite your best efforts.

JJ’s head shot up. “Is that -”

“Hotch’s travel mug? Yeah.” Derek squinted at you as you took the stairs two at a time up to your boyfriend’s door.

You knocked, and a crisp “Come in” sounded from inside.

Aaron couldn’t hide his surprise when you poked your head through the door, stepping in and closing it behind you. He stood, circling the desk and leaning against it.

Boundaries were important to him at work, you knew, so you refrained from untoward affection, stepping back to a respectable distance after you set his things next to the file on his desk.

“How’d you get past security?” He asked, and you knew it was a joke.

“I guess they’re letting just about anyone in, these days.”

Aaron nodded, in facetious consternation. “Looks like it.” He broke after a moment, offering you a small smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

You shrugged. “Wasn’t too hard.”

He glanced out the blinds. The entire team averted their eyes, bumping into each other in their haste to look busy.

You followed his gaze. “It’s okay, Aaron. Don’t feel pressured to introduce me to any of them - I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” There was a little swoop in your stomach.

Did I overstep?

He sighed. “I know. You didn’t. It feels a little...ridiculous to be hiding anything from them after all this time.” He reached out, and you took his hand, still a couple of steps away. His eyes stayed on your linked hands as they swung a little between you. “I don’t mean to hide you from them.”

You squeezed his hand with a warm, small smile. “I know.” And you did. It was big for him - explicitly and obviously coming out to his team was bound to be terrifying, and to add a new person on top of that?

I don’t envy him.

Meanwhile, down in the bullpen, everyone was taking turns reporting back on what was going on behind the blinds.

“They’re holding hands, and not in a handshake way,” Emily said, covering her face with a folder as she looked up.

JJ chanced a look. “He’s been a lot less uptight recently.”

“He’s also not coming in as early. His arrival time is, on average, about thirty-seven minutes later than five months ago.”

Emily looked at Spencer like he’d grown another head. “You keep track of when we come in?”

Spencer didn’t look up from his book. “Of course.”

“I’m glad he has someone,” JJ noted lightly. “It’s good for him.”

Back up in the office, you took a step toward Aaron. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, my love.”

He huffed a laugh and ran his thumbs over your knuckles. “Come to Dave’s the next time we all get together.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows felt like they were going to meet your hairline they shot up so fast.

“Yeah. They’d love to meet you.”

Your brow furrowed, confused. “How do you know?”

He shrugged. “They’re very predictable.”

+++

Needless to say, Aaron was right. They politely, pointedly, and casually posed questions about Hotch’s lunchtime visitor until he wasn’t able to avoid them anymore. Thus, he invited you to Dave’s the next time the team had a night off.

You were excited, but admittedly a little nervous. You were all headed to the car, Jack (very carefully) carrying the brownies you’d made that afternoon.

He was chatting away, telling you stories you’d already heard, about JJ and Emily and Derek and Spencer and Dave and Henry and etc. etc. etc.

You loved that kid.

When Aaron pulled up to the house, Jack jumped out of the car and walked through the front door like he owned the place. It made you laugh.

Aaron looked over, a fond smile on his face. “What?”

“Jack. He just -” you made a vague gesture with your hand - he just goes and goes, and Aaron laughed.

After a moment, you two sobered. He reached for your hand, and you laced your fingers with his.

“They’re going to love you. You know that.”

You snorted. “I certainly don’t.”

Aaron kissed the back of your hand and covered it, so two of his hands were holding one of yours. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

He patted your hand twice by way of an answer, releasing you and opening his door. You followed suit, waiting for him on the sidewalk.

When you actually looked, you realized how truly massive Dave’s house was. Aaron had told you he was well-off, with his book royalties and other savings, but the beautiful and tasteful mansion before you spoke to a bank account that had eight figures, rather than six.

Aaron stepped forward and offered you his hand. You took it. He led you up the flagstone path and through the front door, opening it without preamble.

The foyer was beautiful, opening to a staircase, the living room, and some kind of den or parlor off to the side. Aaron led you to the kitchen, where a statuesque woman with dark brown hair was mixing a drink. Emily.

She turned when she heard you enter, and a wide smile broke out across her face. “Hi!”

You dropped Aaron’s hand and offered it to her. She shook it readily, and you found yourself mirroring her smile. “Hi. Emily, right?”

She nodded, and spared a glance at Hotch. “Hotch, you know it’s polite to introduce guests.”

He huffed in good humor and gestured pedantically as he spoke. “Emily, this is my boyfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Agent Emily Prentiss.”

You were very impressed by his lack of hesitation over the word boyfriend, as it had been a topic of discussion in the past.

“It’s so juvenile. I feel like I’m in high school.” Aaron chuckled, staring up at the ceiling with his hands laced behind his head.

You rolled over onto his chest. “I can’t be your partner - you’ve already been a lawyer and I would hate to confuse people. You’re the one with a juris doctorate, not me.” You rested your chin on his pec, giving just a little more weight than was necessary.

He dropped one of his arms, and you scooted up to fit nearly under it. “Is it at all weird to have a boyfriend in one’s forties?”

You shrugged. “I think it’s whimsical.”

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” He laughed. “Whimsical in the extreme.”

Emily’s voice was warm and genuine when she told you, “It’s a pleasure to meet the person who keeps him,” she jabbed her index finger at Hotch, “in line.”

You laughed, the anxiety melting little by little. “Bold of you to assume anyone can keep him in line.”

She snorted. “Don’t I know it.”

Hotch crossed his arms over his chest. “Guys, I’m right here.”

“And?” You and Emily answered simultaneously.

He shook his head with a smile. “C’mon. If you want to continue making fun of me, there’s plenty of ammunition out back.”

You offered your arm to Emily, and she took it daintily. “Such a gentleman.” She looked over her shoulder as she started walking you to the back patio. “How’d you snag this one?”

“Apparently, he has a thing for charity cases,” Aaron deadpanned.

A few pairs of eyes flickered to you when you stepped out, and Emily’s hand squeezed you reassuringly. You already loved her.

Hotch came up to your side and grabbed your hand as Emily stepped away, stopped by two men who had to be Derek and Spencer (who needed a mediator for some inane, hair-splitting dispute they were having).

A couple who you assumed were JJ and Will smiled at you as you approached.

“JJ, Will, this is Y/N.” Hotch said, a little more confidence in his voice than before.

“I’m the boyfriend,” you supplied, and JJ laughed.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” She leaned close to you, and you dipped your head to listen. “We’ve been asking about you since you stopped by a couple of weeks ago.”

You raised your chin in a knowing fashion as you leaned back, once again including Hotch and Will in the conversation. “Ah, I see. So there’s lore?”

“Definitely.” She pursed her lips in mock solemnity.

You matched her facetious tone. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

JJ broke then, smiling at you once more. “I never make that mistake.” Just then, a little blond boy ran up to her, attaching himself to her leg. She automatically put a hand on his head and gestured to you. “Henry, can you say hello to Mr. Y/N? He’s a really special friend of Hotch’s - like Miss Savannah is to Derek.”

“Hi.”

You crouched to Henry’s level, offering your fist. A look of satisfaction crossed his face as you bumped fists, your hands exploding out of it (with sound effects). “It’s so nice to meet you, man. Were you playing soccer over there?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Jack’s really good but he lets me get goals.”

“Wow.” You raised your eyebrows. “That’s really nice of him, and I bet you learn a lot, too.”

Jack called Henry from across the yard, and he offered you one last adorable grin before sprinting off. You rose, checking in with Hotch as you did so. JJ and Will were distracted watching Henry for the moment, so they missed the awe that crossed Aaron’s face for just a moment.

Your eyebrows pulled. What?

He shook his head. Nothing. But there was something there. Something fond and altogether content.

You heard Emily come up behind you before you saw her, so you turned as she approached with Derek, Dave, and Spencer.

You offered your hand first to Derek, and shot a smile to Spencer. Hotch had warned you before you left the house that Spencer didn’t shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, man. Derek Morgan.” Morgan’s grip was firm and warm. “Emily was just telling me I owe you a thanks for reminding Hotch he has a sense of humor.” Derek’s smile ate up his whole face as he beamed at you. It very nearly stole your breath - he was stunning, and smart. The way he phrased his introduction made it unnecessary to re-introduce yourself, and you were sure that soothed whatever remained of Hotch’s anxiety.

Hotch’s deadpan was decidedly dry. “Funny.”

That’s a good sign.

Spencer was quiet, but there was a little smile playing at his lips. He looked just over your shoulder, and seemed to communicate with someone behind you for a moment. It was only the barest changes in expression, but you’d been around Aaron long enough to know a silent conversation when you saw one, no matter how subtle. The outcome of the conversation looked good, as Spencer stifled another smile and looked over at Hotch.

You then offered your hand to Dave, who took it in both of his. “It is so good to finally meet you.” He shot a sly smile at Hotch. “I was beginning to wonder if you were a figment of my imagination a couple weeks ago.”

“I promise I am very real,” you said with a laugh. “It’s so great to meet all of you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All bad I hope,” JJ chirped from over your shoulder as she approached.

You nodded. “The worst.”

Aaron kissed your temple as the rest laughed, and you could feel the small smile resting on his lips. He sure was smiling a lot tonight, and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you had a lot to do with it.

A woman you could only assume was Penelope bounced up and swooped under Derek’s arm. “What did I miss?”

Hotch laughed (he laughed!) and introduced you. “Y/N, this is our tech analyst Penelope Garcia. Garcia, this is Y/N.”

Instead of a handshake, she just got out from under Derek’s arm and gave you a hug. You relaxed right into her.

She let you go after a second, but kept her hands on your upper arms. “I am so glad you’re here. I’ve been hoping someone would come along and snag our fearless leader before too long.” She winked, and it warmed you.

The rest of the evening flowed smoothly, eventually moving to the living room, and then to goodnights. Everyone wished you a warm goodbye, and Dave kissed you on both cheeks before letting you go. Jack was apparently spending the night at the Jareau-LaMontagne household, so you and Aaron were alone on the drive back.

You relaxed into the seat as he sped along the highway, his hand locked in yours across the center console. “That was really fun.” You looked over at him, finding less tension in him than you’d ever seen before. “Your team is incredible.”

“I know it. They’re the best at what they do.”

You kissed the back of Aaron’s hand. “I’ve heard it helps to have a great boss, or so Penelope tells me.”

He huffed a little laugh through his nose. “She is the authority on such things, as I understand it.”

The car was quiet for a few minutes.

“I - “ Hotch cleared his throat, but his gaze never wavered from the road. “I can’t tell you how much tonight meant to me.”

You squeezed his hand. “It was nothing.” You were lying, and he knew it, but at the end of the day, you’d do anything for him.

He smiled, broad and genuine, and you decided then that Aaron’s joy was your favorite sight in the whole world.

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crownedbyluke · 3 years

Text

Long Road Ahead (Chapter 16)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 2,527

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four}{Chapter Five} {Chapter Six} {Chapter Seven} {Chapter Eight} {Chapter Nine} {Chapter Ten} {Chapter Eleven} {Chapter Twelve} {Chapter Thirteen} {Chapter Fourteen} {Chapter Fifteen}

“Dad?” I asked, utterly shocked at the mess that was unfolding before my very eyes.

“What? No acknowledging me?” the familiar voice asked.

I looked just slightly to the left of my father, the familiar face of my brother Wesley came into view. He clearly hadn’t shaved in at least a month with his scraggly half shadow of a beard. It had been at least two years since I had seen him and now, seeing him again, made me want to scream.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Ashton had his hand on the small of my back, trying his best to comfort me. It felt like everyone in the house was watching me, like I was living my life out on a television screen.

“You remember your betrothed,” my dad said, gesturing to the man standing behind Wes.

My heart stopped. A commitment that I had never agreed to and yet, here was my father bringing it back to haunt me. Aiden Harper. He had certainly gotten taller since we were in middle school. The likelihood of him being less of a giant idiot though was probably very small.

“Aiden,” I whispered, still in shock.

“Who the hell is he Estelle?” Luke asked, voice full of anger.

I met his eyes, finding the storm of hurt and rage swirling in them. It took everything in my body to not just run over to him. There were more eyes on us than I wanted for a conversation like that.

“Oh, I suspect she didn’t inform you. This is the man she is intended to marry in two years time,” my dad said.

Luke clenched his fist. I felt the anger radiating off of him from the stairs. Before anyone got into a fight, I stepped down from the stairs and stood between the two.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Well darling daughter, you seem to think that I can’t stop you from seeing this man child over there, so I’ve come to prove you wrong,” he said with a smile.

It was the same smile I had seen my entire life. One of manipulation and dishonesty.

“How?” I continued.

“You see, your friends here, well, they sometimes do great work at covering up their partying or their general misuse of their fame, but myself and my contacts are more clever than their publicist. I have a multitude of photos and videos of them misbehaving that would surely ruin any chance they had at making another album,” he said, the smile widening.

“You’re lying,” Ashton said from behind me.

“Oh son, you wish I was don’t you? Doubt you’d like that threesome video from your Vegas trip a year ago to get out,” my dad said, gritting his teeth.

I felt the whole room tense. This was serious and it was happening right in front of my face. There were stories of how my dad would manipulate people into what he wanted, but I had never seen it happen. Some of them felt more fabricated than reality would allow. Yet, it was reality and he was doing everything he could to stop me.

“What do you want?” I asked, biting back tears.

It was no longer a question of what I had to do. I’d do it to protect them. Ashton reached for me again, but I moved away. It was my battle now.

“You’ll be coming home with me right now. You can move into your new house in August and you’ll stay in your tiny little apartment until then. You will no longer speak to these children or be seen with them in the media. Oh and you’ll be seen with Aiden getting engaged next week,” he said.

My eyes went wide. Engaged? It meant giving away my entire life to a person who would most likely cheat on me the first chance he got.

“Elle, you don’t-”

“Fine. If I do this, you leave them alone?” I asked, cutting off Calum.

“Yes.”

“You will never threaten them or harm them?” I pressed.

“I promise,” my dad said.

“Fine. I’ll get my stuff,” I said, turning around and marching up the stairs.

The tears fell down my face as I reached the landing. I was defeated, hurt, and exhausted. All I cared about was protecting them from him. There were footsteps following after me as I opened the door to my room.

“Don’t do this,” Luke said, a waiver in his voice.

I looked up, seeing the tears in his own eyes that matched mine.

“If I don’t, you lose your dream,” I said, grabbing the clothes from the closet.

“We can fight this, make it through this,” he argued.

“No we can’t Luke! If he has that kind of stuff on Ashton, what do you think he has on you or Cal? I won’t let you guys be collateral damage!” I said.

“Little dove-”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

I stopped, balling my fists into the pair of shorts in my hands. That nickname meant so much to me. Luke called me it for the first time after he heard me sing and then he kept using it whenever he was saying something nice or being sweet. It was just our thing. He wrapped his arms around me, taking the shorts out of my hands. His short breaths gave away the fact that he was crying too. We were so close to that happiness I wanted and it was all going away.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

He pulled away, pressing his lips against mine shortly before resting his forehead on mine.

“Don’t walk out the door,” he begged.

“I have to or else everything you worked so hard for gets ripped from you by that man and I won’t be able to live with myself if that happens,” I said.

My hands rested on his cheeks, gently running my finger against the stubble growing. This was it. My lips touched his one last time before I went back to grabbing my things.

“Bugs, you don’t have to do this on your own,” Ashton said from the doorway.

“Yes I do. You’ll do amazing on the next album,” I said, wiping at my tears.

“What am I gonna do without you?” he whimpered.

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out.”

He hugged me tightly, putting every last ounce of love into it.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, holding on so I didn’t have to let go.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

After my things were tucked into the suitcase, I gave my last round of hugs. The sound of us all walking down the stairs felt wrong. Everything was wrong. I stopped just short of the door, turning and meeting everyone’s watery eyes.

“I am so incredibly sorry for this,” I said, the weight of the apology heavy on my heart.

“Save it dear. They can watch the wedding online,” my dad said, pulling on my arm to get me moving.

“Don’t touch her!” Luke yelled.

Everyone stopped again. Things felt like they were going in slow motion.

“You might be her father, but you will never be her dad. No dad would put his children through this,” he said, voice laced with venom.

My father smiled at him, letting my arm go. Wesley took my suitcase and nudged Aiden to lead me out of the house. Luke stood there, waiting, but all my father did was smile. Aiden closed the car door after I got in, making me watch Luke stand there as we drove away. Every piece of my heart shattered as I watched him fall to his knees in tears. Timing was a bitch.

TWO MONTHS LATER

LUKE’S POV

“Luke! Come on dude!” Calum yelled from outside my room.

I had yet to leave my bed and it was already 5 PM. He came by every day to check on me and almost every day, he found me still in bed.

“Go away!” I yelled back.

Getting out of bed never felt right or even remotely okay. Since Estelle left, nothing felt right anymore. Everyday was just a different way of going through the motions, barely existing.

“You gotta get out of bed today,” Calum said, bursting through the door.

“Why? We don’t have anything to do,” I said, tucking my face into my pillows.

“Maybe, but you haven’t left the house in two months and it’s time you did,” he said, opening the curtains.

The bright sunshine of L.A. hurt my eyes. Petunia licked my face as she saw the sun. The look Calum gave me felt like one from my mom when I was younger.

“If I get up, will you leave me alone for the rest of the week?” I asked, slowly sitting up.

“Sure,” he said.

I knew he was lying from the smile on his face. My feet dragged as I went to the bathroom. Another routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and brushing my hair gone. When I came back out, Calum was holding up new clothes.

“Why?”

“We are going out so put on something that isn’t sweatpants,” he said.

I groaned, taking the jeans and button up from him.

“You realize I’m not bringing anyone home right?”

“Yes Luke. Just shut up and get dressed.”

Legs went through the jeans and arms went through the shirt. It was a facade as to the pain that I felt every single day I woke up and remembered I couldn’t be with my person. Calum messed with my hair and patted my back, ushering me out of the house.

“Be a good girl piggy!” I yelled before Calum closed the door.

My phone dinged.

Mentioned: @Luke5SOS when is there gonna be new music?

The muscles in my face relaxed. No tweets from her...again.

ESTELLE’S POV

The setting sun was blinding through the windows of the cafe. Everyone was going about their evenings, enjoying their coffees or teas. A familiar face tucked underneath a hoodie and a baseball hat walked in, the sun behind him making him glow like an angel.

“One black coffee please,” he said softly.

Stress from the week of teaching melted away as I listened to him. My iced vanilla latte swirled as I stirred it carefully. The chair squeaked against the tile as he sat down. I met the hazel eyes staring at me.

“Hey bugs,” he whispered, taking a sip of coffee.

“Hi there stranger,” I said, a smile slowly coming out.

“How’s life?” he asked.

“Shitty. I miss you guys,” I said.

Our hands touched, the slightest bit of relief washed over me. It felt nice to be able to see him again. The weeks we weren’t able to do this seemed to drag on longer than most. It wasn’t easy to forget about the friends I was no longer allowed to see. The moments I had made me feel more guilty than anything else. He turned his palm over, gently squeezing my hand.

“We miss you too, bugs,” he said.

I wanted so badly to ask about Luke, but knew it would hurt more than I was prepared for. Ashton squeezed again.

“He’s doing his best,” he said.

Tears welled up in my eyes. If Luke was okay then surely, I should be too.

“How are the kids?” he continued, pulling away.

“Good. They’re still excited about school and spritely,” I said with a shrug.

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Holding up. I have to be seen with Aiden once a week so I keep my distance as long as possible until our scheduled outings. He goes around sleeping with women in the off time and pretends to be the perfect fiancé in the meantime. Guess that’s life now.”

“I wish it wasn’t that way,” he said, slightly angry.

“Ash, you know I don’t have that much of a choice,” I argued.

“I know, but I hate it. I hate that you can’t come over or see us or come to shows. I hate that we have to tell everyone that we aren’t friends anymore. You’re my best friend and I have to hide you.”

“I should go,” I whispered, suddenly no longer feeling up for talking.

“Bugs, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I should go. I’ve got grading and lesson plans,” I said, cutting him off.

Without looking, I walked out of the cafe. The pain took over once I closed my car door as it always did after seeing Ashton. The relics of the past hurt more and more and when I attempted to go back to normal or confront them, I ended up crying in my car. The amount of times I had driven past Luke’s place just to see if a light was on was ridiculous at this point. My phone screen lit up with a text, my background of me and Luke bringing on more tears.

Aida: Miss you. Drinks on Friday?

I ignored it, opting for driving home instead. The drive went by like it always did. My house was empty and lonely. Another thing that was meant to be something else. The exhaustion of the day wore on me as I collapsed into the couch cushions, sleep slowly taking over.

The pounding on my front door woke me from the nap I was taking. I groggily got up from the couch and made my way to it, peeking through the window.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” I asked, finding a very drunk Luke and Calum.

“Estelle!” Luke cheered, a giant smile on his face.

“Again, what are you doing here?” I repeated.

“I might have given your address to the Uber driver on accident,” Calum admitted.

“Get in here,” I groaned.

They shuffled inside behind me. I checked the door to see if any of the press had followed them. Calum fell onto the couch, giggling as he did so. Luke kept staring at me.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he mumbled.

“Shush,” I said, helping him into the guest bedroom.

He giggled as I tucked him in. I put a glass of water on the side table for him in case he woke up. As I went to turn off the light, he grabbed my hand.

“I missed you little dove,” he whispered.

His eyes were sincere and it broke every piece of my heart. Luke fell asleep shortly after speaking, his face becoming relaxed and serene. It reminded me of the first time he ever stayed the night at my place. He had slept so soundly that night that he was asleep until one in the afternoon. My heart ached as I looked at him.

“He still loves you Elle,” Calum said from the doorway.

I walked towards the door, shutting off the light as I exited and closing the door behind me.

“I love him too. Now please go rest in the upstairs guest room,” I said with a sigh.

Calum stumbled his way up the stairs before closing the door. My head fell into my hands, frustration building. The morning couldn’t come fast enough.

A.N: It’s been ages and I feel horrible for leaving this on such a cliffhanger for so long, but I want to finish this story. It’s almost done. It’s mainly all written and it’s time Estelle and Luke get their story told. So here we go.

tag loves: @tommossoccer @bbycal @cakesunflower

#d writes #my writing #5sos #5sos fic #5sos fan fic #5sos au #5sos fluff #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings angst #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fluff #5 seconds of summer angst

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marrys-dream-world · 3 years

Text

lovers alone wear sunlight (chapter seven)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

Read on AO3

Notes: I’m so not gonna finish this fic before july. Day 19: Chat-like. @ladrienjune

Ladybug became more subdued after that night.

There hasn’t been anything new going on, she had insisted, and no, it wasn’t about her fight with Chat Noir. But her eyes were downcast more often than not and the bags under her eyes were so dark they looked like bruises, so Adrien couldn’t just let it go. He wondered, briefly, if it had been the weather dragging her down as the rainy and gloomy season had descended upon them. Ladybug hadn’t liked the cold since she got her miraculous, he knew, and had always made sure to have a cup of her favorite hot cocoa ready when they met up for patrol.

Then again, everyone around him had been in a foul mood, these days. His father seemed… frustrated. Adrien liked to think it was because of the silent treatment he had been receiving from his son, but he was not in the mindset for unrealistic fantasies. He probably missed Nathalie or Adrien’s mother or simply having anyone he remotely liked in the house. School, although a bit better than his house, had become tense, the whole class somehow aware that he and Marinette were going through a break in their “relationship”.

Even worse, Marinette wouldn’t look at him on the face.

“She needs time, dude.” Nino had said, a comforting hand on his shoulder as Marinette bails as soon as the bell rings. “It’s not about you.”

(Alya, following after Marinette, throws him a conflicted look before disappearing into the hall. Adrien spends the night awake thinking about what it could mean.)

“Listen to your friend, kid.” Plagg tried to comfort him, for once not demanding cheese as soon as they were alone. “Pigtails probably doesn’t know what to say.”

Ladybug, always willing to talk about his problems, was surprisingly unhelpful.

“I don’t really know Marinette that well, Adrien, I’m sorry.” She said, avoiding his gaze. “But… Nino is right. I think she needs space right now.”

Some nights he itched to activate his miraculous and leap into the city nights until he found the balcony on top of Tom & Sabine’s. He never did.

It’s because you’re a coward. A girl’s voice whispered in his mind. Half the time he swore it was Marinette, but the other half he was sure it was Ladybug.

I know. He answered, staring at the ceiling.

So Adrien went to his favorite mechanism to cope through his problems: pretend they don’t exist at all. Fortunately, his melancholic girlfriend provided a great distraction.

The usual distractions were useless. She barely tried at all in video games and her eyes didn’t even spark at the set of special drawing pens (recommended by Nathaniel) that he got her. Their conversations seemed to fall apart without getting anywhere and she just wanted to cuddle quietly, staring sightlessly into the horizon. One day, he got the courage to ask her if he did anything wrong.

Her sigh paralyzed him.

“I’m sorry, handsome, it’s not you at all. I just… had an awkward situation with a friend and I can’t stop overthinking it.” She said, pausing to hug him and bury her face into his neck. “It’s not his fault. Nor mine, really, but… I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do.”

She cried quietly in his arms. His heart squeezed with guilt about how much it reminded him of Marinette and that night on her balcony.

His next plan to cheer her up was, perhaps, a little risky. But she did say she liked his jokes, right?

It was a movie night. Adrien had finally gotten permission to choose a movie after that Ladybug dubbed The Coraline Incident. Fortunately, she had been so shocked he hadn’t watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame (“That’s the Disney movie set in France. Next you’ll tell me you haven’t watched Ratatouille- no, stop that, you’re making fun of me. Say syke right now, Adrien”) yet that she didn’t even argue. It was nice to see some of that fire light up in her eyes again, even if for a small moment.

“Here.” He said, handing her their bowl of popcorn with a quantity of butter that was certainly not pre-approved by his nutritionist.

“Thanks.” Ladybug answered absentmindedly as she set up the movie on his tv. Seeing her so at ease with his things made his heart swell up.

“There is nothing better than a movie and popcorn together.” He said casually and she nodded. “They are butter together.”

It sounded better in my head. He thought, and wasn’t that the story of his life?

Ladybug stared at him for a moment, remote dropping from her limp hand. He was about to apologize before she burst into laughter.

“That’s so l-lame.” She said, trying to catch her breath.

“You mean the joke is corny?”

Her laughter, that was starting to subside, came back in full strength and he couldn’t hold back his proud smile.

“I haven’t heard such a bad joke since…” Ladybug said after she calmed down, smile falling from her face.

“Hey.” Adrien said, nudging her with his shoulder. “How about we just watch the movie?”

She nodded, leaning against his shoulder. But she smiled at Quasimodo and sang along to the songs, looking much lighter than she had in a week.

(He watched her more than the movie, he could admit. Part of it was because he was so in love with her it was stupid and could watch her for hours. The other part was because the way Frollo treated Quasimodo made his skin crawl in a way he couldn’t place.)

Now knowing what cheered her up, he kept it up in every situation he could.

“I asked a french man if he played video games.” He said solemnly, during a round of Mario Kart. “He said Wii.”

“I don’t get the point of decimals.” He said as he explained a math problem to her. Their math books were standard in schools across Paris, apparently. “I’m more partial to fractions.”

“This is great.” He said at the impromptu indoors picnic session after she suddenly brought a passion fruit cake. “Couldn’t have done it batter myself.”

She always reacted the same away: startled, eyes widening and mouth gaping before she began to laugh, the beautiful sound reminding him of bells. It filled the room and it was like bathing in sunshine. Then, after she finished giggling, she would settle into a mildly melancholic mood. It came to its climax on a dark, rainy afternoon.

“Thanks.” Ladybug said, grabbing the blanket he gave her. Her eyes were droppy as she watched the drizzle, shivering before wrapping herself up.

“I see Paris’ prettiest superhero likes to work undercover.” He said, preparing himself to get drunk on her airy giggles.

But she didn’t laugh this time, just fixed her gaze on him before sighing and clutching her blanket.

“Hey.” He said, sitting beside her on the couch. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Not, not really, it’s just…” Ladybug said, looking straight ahead to the window. “You just remind me a lot of Chat Noir when you say things like that.”

His heart stopped. “I do?”

“Yeah, you do.” She snorted. "It 's weird.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why is it weird?”

She turned to look at his face. “I mean, you’re my boyfriend and he’s my partner. I don’t usually think of you two as similar at all.”

“Why? You don’t think I would make a good superhero partner?” He teased, watching a small smile bloom on her face. “Or you don’t think Chat Noir would make a good boyfriend?”

He expected her to roll her eyes and say a sassy “jealous?”, not the blush and avoidance of his eyes.

“It’s n-not that at all!” She said, kneading the couch with her hands.

“Ladybug… do you like Chat Noir or something?” He asked, not even knowing what answer he wanted.

“What?! No, I don’t like Chat Noir! I mean, yes, I like him, but as a friend! He 's my friend. We’re friend!” She defended fiercely, before deflating. “At least we used to be.”

“My hero…” Adrien said, words of comfort hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“No, really, I need you to understand this: I’m not into Chat Noir, okay?” Ladybug said, firmly. “Even if I was, it’s not like we can be together, anyways.”

“I’m sorry for saying that, it’s just that you’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, you know?” He said, vaguely gesturing as he said their hero names. “And it’s not like you guys are going to fight forever. I know you’re trying to stop me from feeling jealous, but I don’t think this would stop you from being together.”

“It’s not that, Adrien, it’s way more complicated.” She said. “Look, I didn’t even think about Chat Noir that way until very recently. When we started out I thought he was a flirt, that he didn’t mean what he said at all. And then I hurt him and I found out that yes, he does like seriously. Who would have thought?”

Anyone with eyes. He refrained from saying, remembering the dozens of forums talking about the lovesick eyes Chat Noir sent Ladybug’s way far before Glaciator was even in Hawkmoth’s mind.

“Even then I couldn’t see him romantically. There was this boy, you see.” Ladybug said and he tensed, as he always did when she mentioned the other boy. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m over him and I found he has a girlfriend now. I’m happy for him.”

She sounded genuinely happy and he wondered, not for the first time, what changed. His traitorous heart was both happy and sad because maybe it was him, but why wasn’t it Chat Noir?

“But for the longest time, I was absolutely gone for this guy, my classmate. I thought about him every second of the day and I could barely hold a conversation. I was scared he would never notice me and that he would notice me and…” She broke off, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t matter, because the point is: I was so crazy about this guy and I couldn’t think about anyone else, especially Chat Noir.”

“What made you think about Chat Noir romantically, then?” He asked and continued at her surprised face. “You said you didn’t think about him that way until recently.”

“I… can’t tell you.It’s not because I don’t trust you!” She hurried to explain at his crestfallen expression. “I just think he should be the first to know. It’s… not a nice story. There was an akuma, an incredibly strong one, and nobody remembers but me and Bunnyx, this time traveling superhero.”

She shuddered and burrowed herself deeper into her blanket.

“I haven’t really talked about it with anyone. Not my friend who knows who I am, not even my kwami.” She confessed. “I want to talk to Chat, to be sure that what happened that time would never happen again. But I can’t because I’m scared.”

“My love…” He said, wrapping her in his arms even as he felt like his heart was trying o climb out of his throat and dread pooling in his stomach.

“It was my fault, Adrien.” She whispered against his chest. “I can’t let that happen. I can’t happen whatever love there is between me and Chat Noir destroy the world.”

With that, she quieted down, not knowing what storm her words brewed inside Adrien’s chest.

#ladrienjune #ladrienjune2021 #ladybug #adrien agreste #my stuff #lovers alone wear sunlight #miraculous ladybug

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prettybuckybaby · 3 years

Text

we lay here for years or for hours, so long we become the flowers; chapter three

The avengers babysit, part two

part seven of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

“You free this afternoon?”

“I could be. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a talk on at the science museum at 2:30 about biomolecular engineering. Thought you might be interested in goin’?”

“God, I love you.”

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

“Peter?” Natasha didn’t know what she expected on her day off, her official day off, but the kid calling her just after he should be having lunch isn’t it. “Aren’t you at school? Is something wrong?”

“Hi, Tasha,” Peter’s voice is rushed down the phone, almost drowned out by the sound of the school behind him. “Is there any chance you could pick up Leia for me later and hang out with her a few hours?”

“Of course, I can,” She frowns a bit. “It’s not a problem. What’s up?”

“Oh,” Natasha can almost hear Peter fidgeting awkwardly through the phone. “I, er, got detention?”

“You got a detention?” She laughs. “Peter, are you going through your rebellious phase?” She laughs harder when Peter groans.

“No!” He whines. “It was a misunderstanding. Leia’s play group called me and I left the room to answer, and we had a new teacher and she didn’t know that I’m allowed to do that. I came back into the room and she gave me a detention. I said I couldn’t do it, she said I was talking back, and Morita isn’t here today so I can’t get out of it,”

“Peter,” She sighs down the phone. By the way Peter groans, she guesses he knows what she’s going to say. “You have permission to answer calls because you have a child to look after. Do you want me to come down and sort it? Or get Tony to?”

“No,” He sighs heavily. “You know I love you and appreciate it, but I don’t want any of you getting involved in this. If I just suddenly get out of detention people are going to start asking questions. I’ll get May to come with me tomorrow, so it’s not put on my record or anything.”

“Alright,” Natasha relents, trusting Peter enough that he will be able to handle the situation.

“Plus, Leia’s been wanting to hang out with you, anyway,” Peter tells her. She can hear him smiling. “What better time than now?”

“Okay,” She smiles back at him. “What time do you normally pick her up at?”

“I normally pick her up about 2, but the group stays open until 5 if you’re not free right away,”

“I can be there at two,” Natasha tells him, smiling when Peter lets out a happy sigh down the phone.

“Thank you so much,” He tells her, tone genuine. “I’ll let them know it’s you coming so there’s no issues. She’s normally still napping when I get there. Thank you, again,”

“It’s okay, Peter,” She laughs. “What time will you be back at?”

“Er, I’ve got decathlon practice first, and then the detention, so I should be there at half six?”

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

Leia is still asleep when she picks her up from play group, just like Peter said she would be. Natasha gets her back to the tower before she even starts to stir, and when she puts Leia down on her couch, she settles right back down.

It’s nearly half past three by the time Leia wakes up, crawling across the length of the couch.

“Hi,” Natasha smiles at the child when she cuddles up to her side, one fist tight around her teddy and the other grasping the blanket the spy had draped over her.

“Tash,” Leia mumbles, eyes still mostly closed. “Had a dream ‘bout flyin’,”

“Flying?” She asks, wrapping one of her arms around Leia’s shoulders and twisting a finger around a ringlet of hair. “Did you have wings?”

“I dunno.” She says around a yawn. Natasha hums “Was just flyin’,”

“Was it fun, at least?”

“Yeah,” Leia mumbles, trying to burrow closer to Natasha’s side. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Daddy got into trouble at school, and I don’t think he wanted you to have to stay with him with nothing to do. He didn’t want you getting bored.”

“Oh. ‘Kay,”

“Yeah,” Natasha grins down at her. “We get to hang out though. That’s fun, isn’t it,”

“Yeah!” Leia smiles, sounding a lot happier and a bit more awake. “What we gon’ do?”

“I don’t know yet. You’re still all sleepy, though, so we can start with watching something. Just until you wake up,” Nat tells her, closing her book and putting it down on the table. “So, what would you like to watch?”

“Um,” Leia wiggles slightly, bringing the hand with Bearbear in it up to her eyes and rubbing gently. “Barbie ‘nd the princesses?”

“Hmm,” Nat hums, reaching for the remote. “The dancing princesses?”

Leia wakes up more throughout the film, giggles and talking to Natasha about what’s going on, gasping when the Duchess is revealed to be the villain.

“Pretty,” Leia sighs when Barbie dances the last waltz in the magical kingdom. “Wanna dance like that,” Natasha hums lightly.

“I can teach you, if you want,” Leia looks up at her, eyes wide.

“You can dance?”

“Yeah,” Nat smiles. “I learned when I was younger,”

“What’s it feel like?” Leia’s eyes widen more as she lifts herself to her knees, balancing herself on Natasha’s arms. Nat thinks for a moment.

“It feels…like flying,”.

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

She takes Leia down to the gym after they’ve changed their clothes. Natasha always thought that Tony went overboard with everything he bought for Leia, filling multiple wardrobes with clothes that she’ll grow out of in less than a year. However, she’s quite thankful for it when she manages to find a pair of leggings and a t-shirt that’s loose enough to not limit Leia’s movements.

“Matchin’,” Leia giggles when she sees them in the mirror of the gym. They’re both dressed completely in black, and Natasha took the time to braid Leia’s hair.

“Yeah,” Nat smiles at her through the mirror. “The floors gonna be cold on your feet, okay?” She warns gently as she lowers Leia to the floor.

“No socks?” Leia asks, squealing and giggling when she feels the cold on the bottoms of her feet.

“No, pauk rebenok,” She smiles. “Don’t want to be slipping all over the floor. Right, you sit down here,” She guides Leia down in front of the mirror. “FRIDAY, can you lock the gym, please. To everyone except Peter?”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff,”

“Thanks,” She turns back to look at Leia, who is following her every move. “Okay, you’re going to watch me first, okay?” She smiles when Leia nods her head quickly. “This is a secret, okay? You can’t tell anybody,”

“Not even Daddy?” Leia asks, peering up from the floor. Natasha narrows her eyes at her softly.

“Well, maybe you can tell Daddy. He’s quite good at keeping secrets, I guess,” She nods before she walks over to the sparring mat in the middle of the room. “You ready?”

“Yeah, Tash,”.

Leia doesn’t take her eyes off Natasha as she glides across the floor. She watches as Tasha floats, leaps through the air, landing on her toes and taking off again. She moves as one with the soft piano music that’s filling the room, as if it is flowing through her very being. She’s flying around the room with a gracefulness Leia hasn’t ever seen before, limbs effortlessly controlled, and posture poised perfectly.

Tasha lands with a final spin, feet flat but delicate on the floor just as the music ends. She doesn’t speak when she stops, but smiles when she notices Leia watching her, awe painted on her face.

“So pretty,” Leia mumbles when Natasha bends down and picks up a bottle of water. “I’m going to learn to do that?”

“One day,” Natasha puts the water down after having a drink and holds her hands out for Leia to take. She pulls her up and leads her towards the mat. “But today, we’ll learn how to do stretches, okay?”

“Okay!” Leia agrees easily, nodding her head and sitting down, copying Natasha’s movements.

“Okay, you’ve got to stretch before you do any kind of exercise, alright?” Natasha tells her. “Otherwise, you might hurt yourself. And we don’t want to hurt yourself. Even Steve stretches before he goes for a run,”

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

They’re interrupted a little over an hour later, when Natasha has shown Leia a range of stretches she can do before different parts of her body. They’ve spent most of the time sitting on the mat and talking, but Leia can now do any stretch that Natasha tells her to.

“Agent Romanoff, Mr Wilson would like you to know that food is being served upstairs,”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” Natasha smiles at Leia when she stands up, holding her hands out again to pull the toddler up and carrying her out of the gym. “You want to do this again? Maybe actually get to the dancing?” She laughs when Leia starts nodding her head almost immediately. “Okay. I’ll have to ask your Daddy about it though. Make sure he’s okay with it,”

“Thank you, Tash,” Leia smiles up at her, linking her arms around the spy’s neck and hugging her tightly.

“You’re very welcome, zolottse,” She smiles as she steps into the lift. She speaks again when the lift starts going up without Nat having to ask FRIDAY. “Remember, this is a secret, okay? Nobody but Daddy can know,”

“Okay, Tash,”

“Hey,” The doors open into the shared kitchen, where almost everyone else is. Only Peter and Harley are missing. “I didn’t know you were here, Bug,” Sam grins at Leia when they walk out the lift. “Is Daddy with you?”

“No,” Natasha replies while Leia shakes her head. She sits Leia down on the chair next to Tony before she takes her own.

“Where is itsy bitsy?” Tony asks, standing up and grabbing a juice for Leia. He’s just pieced the straw through when the lift chimes and the doors open. “Speak of the devil,”

“Hey,” Peter smiles, kissing Leia gently on the top of her head. “Thank you, Tasha,”

“It’s no problem, Peter,” She smiles at him. “Always happy to have my favourite girl around,” She winks at Leia, who smiles back with a giggle.

“You staying for food? Or do you have to get back to your Aunt?” Peter glances at Leia before he responds to Sam.

“We can stay for a bit. May doesn’t finish at the hospital until eight,” Peter smiles when Sam hands him a plate. “Thanks, man,”

“Why are you so late, Pete?” Bruce asks him. Peter shrugs one shoulder.

“Got detention,” Everyone looks up at him, disbelief on their faces.

“You got a detention?” Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“It was a misunderstanding with a new teacher. May knows. She’s going to speak to Morita about it tomorrow,”

“Right,”

“How long are detentions these days?” Clint asks him, turning back to his food. “They were only an hour when I was in school,”

“I had decathlon practice as well,”

“On a Tuesday?” Tony asks. Peter raises an eyebrow at the suspicion on his face.

“Yeah? MJ decided we needed some extra practice. We’ve got a meet soon,” Tony nods slowly, face still showing his scepticism. Peter changes the subject. “Where’s Harley?”

“He told me he was going out with Brad again,” Pepper smiles at him. Tony perks up again.

“So,” He grins, “Who is this Brad. You know him?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods at him. “Yeah, I mean, we’re not really friends, but,” He shrugs.

“You’re not friends with him?” Steve asks, trying not to sound too invested in the gossip.

“Not really. We’re in different circles, I guess. We don’t have any classes together and we’ve never really…spoken much. He’s in Harley’s engineering class,”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah. I mean, we haven’t spoken much but he’s nice. His friends are nice.” Peter tells them. “Harls really likes him though. He’s been wanting to talk to him for ages, he just hadn’t found the courage.”

“So, you approve?” Sam asks. Peter rolls his eyes with a snort.

“Harley doesn’t need my approval,”

“But does he have it?”

“I mean, I guess?” Peter is saved from elaborating further by the lift doors opening again, and Harley himself walking into the room.

“How was your date, kid?” Tony asks without any greeting, grinning at the slight red flush that appears on Harley’s cheeks.

“Yeah.” He smiles, sitting down next to Peter. “Yeah, it was good.”

“How’s it going?” Pepper asks, smiling when Harley steels a potato off Peter’s plate and the younger boy scowls at him. “You and Brad?”

“Good,” The teen smiles at her again. “He’s…nice. We have a good time together,”

Natasha and Bucky both notice how he glances at Peter when he speaks. They send him a sad smile.

#peter parker #harley keener #natasha romanoff #tony stark #single parent peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #irondad

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cozyjsuh · 4 years

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by friday night, after swim, joy came up to you.

“y/n, you know lucas is leaving on the midnight flight tonight. so we’re all going to the airport with him to say our goodbyes.” you get into your car at look at her. “i know you probably don’t want to see him again, but wouldn’t it be better if you and him left on good terms?”

you sigh heavily before turning to your steering wheel. “if you want to say your goodbyes, come to the airport no later than eleven fifty.” she says before walking off to her car. you sit in your car for about ten minutes before finally driving off. by the time you finished showering and eating dinner, it was ten fifty. you contemplated on whether or not you should go, but in a matter of seconds, you got up and put a sweatshirt on and ran out of your house with your keys. you quickly run to your car and turn the engine on, rushing to the airport. you make it to the airport at exactly eleven thirty and run through the airport, looking for someone that even remotely looks like your friends. you spot johnny and start rushing towards your friends when you don’t spot lucas. you stop in the middle and let out heavy breaths before your friends turn around and look at you. joy walks up to you and pats your shoulder. “am i too late?” you ask, defeatedly. you turn to walk towards your car until you hear, “y/n? you came?”

you stare at him wide eyed, “y-yeah. i c-couldn’t just let you leave on bad terms.”

he smiles before embracing you with your face buried in his shoulder. “thank you y/n.” he whispers in your ear. “no thank you lucas. for being my first love, taking my first kiss and the first person that’s ever loved me.” you kiss him on the cheek before he walks off to go through security. all your friends smile, tearfully, with you included. “y/n, are you crying?” johnny teases.

you look at him with tears in your eyes, “yeah! you got a problem?!” before burying your face into taeyong’s embrace. taeyong whacks johnny on the arm, “don’t make fun of her! she’s sensitive.” you look at johnny with a smirk over taeyong’s shoulder and stick your tongue out.

“taeyong! did you not see that?!” taeyong shakes his head and pats your head.

you drunkily sit in front of your ‘new friend’ christian. “so you sAid uR twenty nine?” he laughs and nods his head. “well i’m twenty three.” you say while confidently sticking up two fingers on one hand and four on the other.

you wake up the next morning with no recollection of last night. your eyes widen at the unfamiliar room and you rip the blanket off of yourself to check if you were wearing the same clothes as last night and surely you were. you got up and walked around the large hallways of a beautiful white apartment. you walk to where to assume the kitchen is and meet face to face with someone you felt like you knew but couldn’t put a finger on it.

the male figure turns around and looks at you up and down, “good morning.”

“is it?” you ask startled. “did we, we didn’t right?”

“no. i don’t even know where you came from but i was drinking by myself and you randomly came up to me and started a conversation. then you talked non stop for about twenty minutes before knocking out on the table. so then i grabbed your phone and your friends tried to call you but then your phone died so i just brought you to my house. i charged your phone by the way, it’s over there.” he points over to your phone that was peacefully sitting on his countertop.

“thank you, uh i’m pretty sure you told me your name yesterday but i don’t remember.”

he laughs again before taking a sip of orange juice, “it’s christian. come and eat some breakfast.” you check the time and your eyes widen again. you gasp and cover your mouth before exclaiming, “can you drive me to to places today! i have state for swim and it starts in an hour and i don’t have my car and i need to get my swim bag and—“

“of course. don’t worry about. i’ll be ready in ten minutes.” you sit and bounce your knee nervously.

he later comes out and you both walk to his car. you send your address to his phone and both ride in his car in silence. you look at the interior of car, everything in his car was expensive imports from different countries. you mind starts to wander, ‘is this guy a leader of the mafia or something? why is he so rich?’

“uh we’re here.” he says as he drives into your parking lot. “oh i’ll be back in like ten minutes.” you yell as you run out of his car. you return later in your swim suit, parka and a pair of shorts with your swim bag in hand. as soon as you enter his car, you tell him to drive to seoul university. as you arrive in the neighborhood, joy calls you.

“y/n? where are you? warm ups start in ten minutes.” you interrupt her, “uh yeah! be there in about two minutes! wait for me outside, please!” christian chuckles at you.

as you pull up to the university, you spot joy. “oh uhm over there please.” you say as you point to joy. you get out of the car but not before thanking christian. “thank you so much for today and yesterday. uh i have to go but you know where i live and i’m basically home twenty four seven so.” you smile before joy pulls you away.

you quickly throw your parka off at johnny and you know who before diving in to start warm ups. you quickly finish up six of your events and go to the bathroom to grab your swim supplies to practice before your last event. as you enter the locker room, you get met by nayeon and her cheer squad. two girls lock the door and guard it while the others stand behind her.

“y/n, you’re a real slut aren’t you? you just can’t help seducing boys, huh?” nayeon says while crossing her arms. “get out my way nayeon. i have much more important things to do.” you roll your eyes but not before nayeon and her minions jump onto you. one of them punches you on your lip while the other kicks your shins with sneakers on. nayeon works on ripping your swim suit starting with the shoulder straps and then your stomach. you try your hardest to stand up and get to your event but they cover your mouth and hold you down while the referee calls out your name leaving your friends worried.

“where’s y/n?” johnny asks while joy frantically looks around.

after your event finishes, they let you go and you sit up, messed up and dazed. it’s as if life for you had gone into slow motion, you stand up and walk out of the locker room with your fresh wounds. you walk towards your friends and grab your parka and swim bag. leaving them to call out your name and you barefoot. you walk out of the pool area and to wait for the campus bus to take you anywhere but here.

while you wait you notice a familiar car drive by the curb. “get in, y/n.” the voice says. you stand up and look at the driver, “why are you still here christian?” you ask tearfully. “just get into the car y/n, we can talk on the way there.” you get into his car and sit silently until he began the conversation. “you’re an excellent swimmer.” you nod your head thanks. “too bad i missed my last event. if i got it then i would’ve been number one throughout the college league but-“

“but cheerleaders cornered you in the locker room?” your eyes widen and you breathe out. “yeah, were you watching me this entire time?” he chuckles and nods. “for six whole hours?” he nods once again.

he stops the car and then gets out. you look at him and then down at your body, in which you were only wearing your shorts and your ripped up swim suit. he quickly took off the sweatshirt he was wearing and put it on your lap. “just wear that for now. we’re gonna go eat.” you slide the warm sweatshirt on and get out of his car. you enter the restaurant and sit down. you get a text from joy and immediately answer it before shutting your phone off completely.

you look at christian before asking, “so are you still in school?” he looks up from the menu, “yeah, i’m going for my graduates at yonsei.” your eyes widen a bit at the familiar name. “do you know my brother? his name is yuta nakamoto and he’s on varsity basketball.”

“oh nakamoto? yeah! he’s in my political theory class. cool kid.” you nod while smiling. “is yonsei a good school? i think i might transfer. i’m so done with seoul.” you say as you roll your eyes.

as you finish up dinner, your friends walk through the restaurants door’s and you all stare at each other. before joy walks over to you and pulls you out of the restaurant.

“y/n, what is wrong with you?! why do you keep isolating yourself from us one minute and the next go back to being our friend. you’re acting so fake! you and nayeon are no different than one another.” you clench your teeth and ball up your fists. “take that back.” you darkly reply. she scoffs at you so you repeat the sentence, “take that back.” you gaze up at her intimidatingly and rip off the friendship bracelet she gave you for your tenth birthday. you throw the bracelet at her and go back inside to ask christian to drop you off at your house. on the way out you look tearfully at a sobbing joy while johnny comforts her, “i am not the same as nayeon. and the fact that you compared me to her hurts but it hurt more because it came from you. my best friend of seventeen years.” you say disappointedly before leaving a sobbing girl and shocked boys behind.

mouth breathers (21/?)

summary: y/n finally has the confidence to see lucas one more time before he leaves and after he does, y/n and co. have a wild night out late friday night. y/n (once again) gets a little drunk and goes home with a mysterious man, christian yu! as she wakes up she slowly realizes it the day of nationals so she asks christian for a couple favors. after a nasty encounter with the cheerleaders, y/n leaves and meets with christian again, only to be confronted by her friends. what is this? a new couple? y/tian?

pairing: jaehyun x reader

tag list:

@ncityy04 @kevincametomyparty @apricottulips @nana-minn @stpidgenius @nctssidehoe@marklexleaf @angelichris-b97 @n4ja3m1n @fitecuddles @cowward @dong-hyuc @casualgemini @ncityluvvs @catkastrophe @moonchild2190 @toodaloola @raywishii @stayzenniesstuff @seeking-faces @mikachu-28 @sensiblebutch @peachyjunz @donghyuckster

a/n: so my updating schedule is hella messed up BUT don’t fret i think i’m going to just spontaneously update at random times. sorry. especially today, it’s literally 12:34 am and i’m posting this. but please keep enjoying this story and please, stay safe! also if you’d like, i can add you to my gc so we can chat!

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callumsmitchells · 4 years

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i can’t get over the way (you love me like you do) - chapter six (ao3)

Ben's lazing across the sofa, the position of his body in a slump. One of his hands is against his chest, thumb stroking lightly at the material of his shirt, the other dangling low and just reaching the carpet. One leg is up and spread all the way across the sofa, reaching the other side, the heel of his foot resting upon the arm of the seat, whilst his other leg is down and stopping him from falling if he rolls over at any point. The television is playing, and some old show that Ben vaguely remembers from when he was a child is crackling through the screen, but bar looking in its direction, he's taking no notice of it. His mind is a mess. All he thinks about is Callum this, Callum that. He's numb to everything else, really.

It's been a week. It's been one whole week, seven entire days since Ben and Callum had their argument. Since then, Ben's been hiding away, only ever leaving the house for work, and then coming home with his head hung low and his feet heavy like concrete. Everyone arounds him believes they've broken up, and in a way, they have - but this is even worse than that, because Ben's lost Callum as a friend first and foremost. He's heartbroken, completely at a loss without him. He misses being able to text Callum whenever he wants, even if just to tell him a stupid joke. He misses drinking with him. He misses watching films with him. He misses just being in Callum's presence, and he misses how happy Callum makes him.

Lola's standing at the kitchen door leading into the living room, watching Ben with a forlorn look on her face. She unfolds her arms, and swings around so she's now back in the kitchen, shaking her head. Jay and Kathy are sitting at the table. "Callum told us they had an argument." Lola explains, her voice low so that Ben doesn't hear. Not that he probably would anyway, considering he's been zoning out of every conversation people have been trying to hold with him all week. "But he's still refusing to tell us what it's all about. It's driving me insane. They're both so unhappy, but neither of them are taking that step to talk to each other again."

Kathy shakes her head. "I'm tempted to just bang their heads together." She says. "He's been like this for days, moping about."

"Callum's the exact same." Jay says. "He's acting like he's fine, but you can tell he's not okay. Even at work, he's mixing up orders, dropping things, getting angry. Whatever they argued about, it's affecting both of them really badly."

Lola nods. "They aren't the same without each other." She concludes.

They're silent for a moment, trying to mull things over in the minds.

"I can hear you, you know?" Ben shouts from the other room, his voice dull and empty of emotion.

Three heads jerk up at the same time, and they watch Ben as he sits upright for what feels like the first time in days. He's got bags under his eyes, all brown and swollen. He's barely shaven, his beard now long in length and thick for the first time.

"Love." Kathy says, her best caring mum voice now in full swing. "We're just worried about you. You aren't sleeping, you're barely leaving the house. It's not normal, darling. I'm sure that whatever you and Callum argued about wasn't so bad that you can't sort it all out. Forget your relationship, just don't go ruining your friendship with him, because above all, that's what really matters."

Ben scoffs, and shakes his head, standing up in a swift movement that causes a crack at his knees. "You don't know nothing." Ben spits venomously. "So just leave it. All of you." He storms off upstairs, thundering steps ricocheting through the house with every anger filled movement he leaves behind.

Kathy's standing behind the till in the cafe, watching people coming and going. It's the busy morning rush, albeit now the end of it, and through it all, Callum's been sitting in the back of the cafe, half hidden from view, nursing a cup of tea that has surely long since gone stone cold. He looks lost too, exactly like Ben. His hair is flat and obscuring his forehead. He's got bags under his eyes, matching with Ben's, and he's sitting in a slouch, his shoulders hunched over, his posture a stark contrast to his usual one. He yawns, and Kathy can see his eyes start to water afterwards. She picks out a tissue or two from a box she keeps next to the till, and walks over to him, noting that the cafe is now nearly empty following the morning swarm of busy workers and school children. She drags out the seat that's opposite Callum on the same table, and sits down without him looking up. She puts a comforting hand on his wrist, and passes him the tissues. He takes it gratefully, and smiles when he realises that it's from Kathy - though the smile doesn't reach his eyes like it usually would.

"I'm assuming this is all because of my son." Kathy says, breaking the silence between them.

Callum fumbles out a scoffing laugh, wiping his eyes dry of any remaining tears that escape. "Is it really that obvious?" Callum asks. "How is he?" Typical Callum, wondering how other people are even when he's in such a state himself.

"Exactly like you." She confirms with a warming smile on her face. "He's barely eating, barely sleeping. Only leaving the house to go to work, and then coming home straight away. It's like he's lost without you."

Callum's eyes fill with tears once more, and he swiftly dabs them with the tissue.

"Can you really not sort it out?" Kathy asks. "What's so bad that you two can't even be friends?"

Callum lets out a sigh, and his body slumps even further, a wave of nausea curling throughout him. "It's my fault." He admits. "I need to be the one to sort it out. Whether Ben wants to sort it out himself, is another question. I hope he does. It's like I'm missing part of me without him."

Kathy places a hand on Callum's, enveloping him. "Well between me and you. Ben's not gone to work today, so if you really want to sort it all out, I'd suggest going over to the house to speak to him whilst everyone's out."

Callum looks down at the table and inhales a shaky breath. "Yeah." He says. "I really should. Is it okay if I go now?"

Kathy nods, a warming smile on his face that only a mother could give. "Course it is." She stands, following Callum's own movements, and leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Let yourself in, the door's unlocked."

---

Callum's standing on the concrete outside of the house, his hand dangerously close to the door handle. His hand is floating over the metal, his mind running at a million miles an hour, trying to decide if he should just walk in, or knock. He shakes his head with his eyes shut, and feels the cool metal against his skin as he pushes it down and opens the door. There's a squeak from the hinges, and Callum inwardly cringes, because he feels like he's trespassing, even though he has permission to just walk in.

"Ben?" He calls out, though his voice is not nearly as loud as he thought it was.

He walks into the living room, and sees Ben spread out on the sofa, head resting on his fist, watching the television. It overwhelms Callum, seeing Ben after a week. It's probably the longest they've ever gone without speaking to each other. "Ben." Callum breathes out.

Ben looks up at him through hooded eyelids and fluttery eyelashes, exhaustion clearly evident on his face. "What do you want?" He asks, sadness in his voice.

Callum's heart pangs with an ache of hurt, knowing that he's the one responsible for Ben feeling like this. He crouches down, so he's now face to face with Ben. His eyes are stinging, tingles of remaining tears hurting him. "Your mum let me in. I want to apologise, for everything."

Ben looks everywhere but at Callum, his eyes scanning around the room in a desperate attempt to find something even remotely interesting, because he can't bring himself to look directly into Callum's ocean blue eyes. Callum places his hand on Ben's cheek, warm and inviting, and Ben nearly melts.

"I'm sorry." Callum whispers. "I shouldn't have made a big deal out of it. I just got scared, terrified that I'd ruin everything for us. I guess I did in the end." He shrugs.

Ben sits up, swinging his legs around so they reach the floor. He shakes his head lightly. "I'm the one that should be apologising. I should never have suggested it, it was a stupid idea."

"It was fun." Callum admits, because honestly, it was. "I guess I just got scared, but I don't regret any of it - only the argument."

Ben smiles softly, because he knows what Callum's trying to say. He looks down at his lap, thumbs twisting around the other, before he looks back up at Callum shyly. "Are we good?" He asks.

Callum intakes a sharp breath through his nose, and smiles. "Yeah." He confirms. "We're good."

They share a look, eyes scanning eyes, but not for long, because Ben launches himself at Callum, pulling the older man in for a hug. They've both missed this. Ben's fingers thread through the hair at the back of Callum's head, holding them close. Callum's head is buried in Ben's shoulder, breathing him in. It's relaxing, a comfort, to be able to hold like this. Ben releases his hold on Callum, and Callum remains in the hug for a moment or two, wanting to savour it after a long week of not being able to do this. When he eventually pulls away, his hands are still encapsulating Ben's ribs, warm hands melting into his skin. Ben's hands remain in the thin parts of Callum's hair, feeling it under his fingertips, and they're just looking at each other, smiles on their faces, genuinely happy. Something comes over Ben, and he leans forward, breath swirling out of his nostrils as it hits Callum's skin. His lips press against Callum's, soft and peaceful and grounding. There's a scrape of chapped lips, not the usual smoothness of silky plump lips, but it makes it all the more real. Callum screws his eyes tightly shut, and falls into the kiss before he realises what's actually happening, and pushes Ben off of him with a harshness.

"No!" He mutters out, wiping his lips with the back of his hands, as if that's going to do something.

"Wha-" Ben breathes out, shoulders slumping once again. Confusion is written all across his face, looking depleted. "You just said you don't regret it!"

Callum rubs his hand over his face. "That doesn't mean you can just kiss me like that again, it's just confusing me."

"Why not?" Ben asks, holding his hands up.

Something bubbles inside of Callum, threatening to escape with every second that passes. "Because I like you!" He explodes. "I like ya, and I know you'' never feel the same way."

Callum stands up, a crack of his knees breaking up the tension of the silence between them. He turns his body away from Ben, not wanting to see his face when Ben inevitably breaks his heart.

Ben lets out a soft chuckle, barely audible. "I love you." He admits, finally. His voice is shaky, but he's never been more sure of what he's saying in his life. "I've been in love with you since we met."

There's an aching silence in the room. The air runs cold, and neither of them are looking at the other. Ben's words echo, a constant repeat circling around Callum's mind. He said he loves him. Loves.

Callum turns his body slowly, redness spread right across his cheeks, tears welling up in his eyes. "What?" Callum asks, his voice quiet and shy and nerves run all the way through him, right down to the tip of his toes. He watches Ben with a soft adoration on his face, and his head is downcast, staring at the floor. He's shy, all of a sudden. Callum walks forward, closer and closer to Ben with every moment that passes. He crouches down, and hooks a finger underneath Ben's chin, pushing slightly, so that Ben takes the hint to look at Callum's face. When he eventually does, Callum produces the softest smile, and Ben's unable to do anything but replicate the smile - Callum's infectious when it comes to that. "What did you just say, Ben?"

"That I love you." Ben breathes out, watching Callum's reactions.

Callum's finger remains under Ben's chin, his stubble prickling at his skin, but his thumb brushes over Ben's bottom lip. Tears well up in Callum's eyes, and he feels like crying, not for the first time today. Callum leans forward, and Ben watches his every move in anticipation, but nothing could prepare him for the reality of tingles that Callum causes him to have when their lips touch. Ben nearly jerks back at the feeling, and Callum grins against his lips, wanting, needing more. Ben moves his hands to the back of Callum's head, pushing them even closer together, if that's even possible, and his legs start to wrap around Callum's body from where he's crouching down. He chuckles against Ben's lips, and moves to stand up, towering over him, though he doesn't pull away. His body towers over Ben's, leaving Ben craning his neck as Callum moves, until Callum's half stradling Ben. They stay there for a few moments, maybe even longer, not caring about keeping track of time. Callum eventually pulls away, allowing them to get their breath back, though Ben's willing to say he doesn't care about being able to breathe, as long as he's kissing Callum. Fingers are against Ben's cheek, skin touching skin, and Callum's looking down at him with a beaming grin, lips glossy and red and plump.

"I love you too."

#ballum #ben x callum #ben mitchell x callum highway #ben mitchell #callum highway #myfic

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

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Best Part of Me -Chapter 51

WARNINGS: SMUT. NSFW

TAGGING: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @ocfairygodmother

He’s stirred awake by the brilliant sunshine that streams through the living room window; groaning loudly when the sudden flash of light is too harsh on his weary eyes. After Yaz had left, they’d retreated inside and had sat on the couch talking; a surprisingly calm and rational conversation considering the tension and stresses that Yaz had left in his wake. It had been a rough end to a great day; all the lighthearted, playful, and loving moments quickly overshadowed by talk of Mahajan. Dhaka. All the things he’d hope to avoid over the course of four days. It wasn’t what he wanted; dwelling on his upcoming departure and the seriousness of the task that lay ahead of him. The verbal acknowledgment of the target on his back and the enormous bounty that has placed on his head; quite the incentive for any street thug or even merc with a score to settle.

When Yaz had shown up, he’d brought months of hostility with him. It hadn’t been handled well; his departure from New Zealand. Once he’d made up his mind...once his sanity hinged on whether he managed to get the hell out...he’d caught the first flight home and never once looked back. He should have dealt with it better; given the rest of the team -especially Yaz and Nik- a decent heads up so they would have a chance to prepare themselves and draw up a new game place. But he’d been desperate; on the verge of mental collapse and worried about the state of his marriage. He’d done what he’d was best not only for himself, but for his wife and children. He would have been of no use to the McMann kids; his brain fractured and fragile and incapable of handling the situation.

There’s no doubt in his mind that he would have died there; unable to do the job properly, putting himself and those kids at risk. It was the smartest thing he could have done. Quit. Regardless of what anyone else says or thinks.

Eight days. With the rising of the sun, the days settle at eight. Just over a week until he’s leaving for Mumbai and embarking on quite possibly the riskiest job he’s ever taken on. The stakes have never been higher; a price on his head, the lives of his family being threatened. He needs to keep his cool; not let his emotions get the better of him. The second guys like Mahajan and his people get into his brain, his need to destroy them will become an obsession. All consuming, unrelenting. And while it’s hard to NOT let his emotions be in control it’s an absolutely necessity to rein them in. His emotions make him weak. Vulnerable. And guys like Mahajan can sense it; they can stop the chinks in the armour from a mile away and they’ll use it to their full advantage. He needs to stay focused; stay on his game. He can’t let them take up space in his brain; once they’re in there, they’ll burrow their way into the deepest and darkest of recesses and it will be impossible to evict them. He’ll be useless then. Unable to protect his own family in the same way he’d been unable to protect the McMann kids. And he’d never forgive himself if his own weakness were his family’s demise.

Sometime during their conversation, they’d both fallen asleep. The last thing he remembers is her climbing off the couch long enough to grab the heaviest blanket off the bed; returning with it wrapped tightly around her body and then laying down with her head in his lap. His hand had been in her hair; fingers combing through those soft, dark tresses and then letting them fall between. And he’s pretty sure he’d fallen asleep to the thought of much he’s been enjoying the time alone with her. How much he’d miss it...her...not only while he was in Mumbai, but if something prevented him from ever getting the chance to be with her again.

He reaches for his phone as it sits on the arm of the couch, quickly checking the time before tossing it onto the cluttered coffee table. Quarter to seven in the morning and not one single reasonable explanation for being up this damn early. No hungry baby to feed, no breakfasts to make, no kids to get ready for school. The silence in the shake is unfamiliar. Eerie. Almost unbearable. He’s spent the last six years (nearly) being surrounded by noise and activity, and it’s become the norm. He doesn’t even think about it anymore; so used to the chaos that anything else feels strange. And he actually finds himself missing it. The middle of the night feedings when the house is still and silent and it’s just him and Addie; those dark eyes staring up at him while he feeds her, all of her fingers wrapped tightly around one of his. Finding himself fascinated by how tiny she is; marvelling at how perfect and beautiful and wondering how a guy like him could ever help make something that incredible. Always falling asleep stretched out on the couch; the impossibly small being resting on his chest, a protective hand never leaving her back.

Or the mornings when he’s still asleep and he can hear the two oldest stirring in their bedrooms; lying in bed listening as the bickering begins and little footsteps can be heard in the hall just before they burst into the master; jumping onto the bed and shrieking and giggling as they attempt to ‘wake him up’. Those tiny yet surprisingly strong and nimble fingers that try and pry his eyes open. The way Declan will climb on top of him and cuddle in close; playing with his ears and stroking his beard as the toddler attempts to lull himself to sleep. It becomes such a huge part of your life, being a parent. Your entire world revolving around those innocent, totally dependent beings. To the point you often forget who you were BEFORE they came along. In his case, that’s a good thing. He doesn’t want to remember what he was like before; his life a disaster before he’d met their mother. She’d been the one who began the job of dismantling the walls he’d built around himself; his kids the ones completing it. Being a dad again has turned him into a different person. A different man. One that isn’t afraid to show emotion or give and receive affection. One that’s finally done things he can be proud of, instead of hating himself for.

Esme remains asleep with her head in his lap; on her back with her face turned towards him, nose pressed into his stomach. Looking so much younger than she is actually is; that smooth, soft skin devoid of any makeup, a touch of pink from the sun gracing her cheeks, the spattering of freckles -that she always complains about- across the bridge of her nose. She’s everything he could have wanted or asked for. Not just as a spouse and the mother of his children, but as a lover, confidant, and best friends. And it’s all those things together that make it even remotely possible to get through all the hard times and his battle with alcohol and pain med dependency and the issues brought about courtesy of his PTSD.

There’s a slight frown playing on his lips when he trails a fingertip over the thin, pale scar that mars her forehead; touching the top of her right eyebrow and travelling upwards into her hairline. There’s others; a couple from when things haven’t gotten out of hand on the job, but most from Mark not being able to keep his fists to himself. The first couple of years had been touch; she’d flinch or jump away if he’d move too quickly while standing near her. Genuine fear on her face if he even did something as simple as raising his hand to push his own hair out of his eyes. If the movement was fast, it would startle her; taking her back to all those times someone had raised their hand to her with the sole intent to harm. It had been hard to break her of that; to get her to completely trust him despite his own issues and his volatile temper and knowing the damage he was capable of causing in his line of work. Always assuring that he’d never...ever...hurt her. How do you hurt someone you love THAT much?

He rests his palm on the side of her face, thumb repeatedly brushing against her cheek; his eyes closing and his head falling back onto the couch. They have a few hours before their planned departure. Driving to Mitchell River National Park, followed by a hike to where they’d camp for two days. Taking her to the last place he’d ever visited; the day drinking trip with Koen and Rata, when he’d jumped off the cliff and scared the shit out of the latter. Things had been different then. HE’D been different. Two after making that jump, Nik would be on his doorstep offering the Dhaka job and he’d be standing in his kitchen, watching that tiny, cute brunette on his front porch. It’s weird how one moment...one decision..,can change the entire direction and outcome of your life. And how everything can go so wrong but turn out so amazing in the end.

She moves against him, rubbing her face against his stomach and then turning her face into his hand. Lips finding the rough skin of his palm before she gives a long, content sigh and then turns her face towards the ceiling and opens her eyes.

“Hi,” she greets, eyes still heavy from sleep, voice small and groggy.

He runs the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, then smiles. “Hi.”

“What time is it?”

“Early.”

“How early is early?”

“Very early.”

“Can you be a little more specific or…?”

“Just before seven.”

She groans. “You have this uncanny ability of always waking up way earlier than you need to.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I guess.” She briefly squeezes her eyes shut, sighing as she stretches languorously; bare feet poking out from the bottom of the blanket. “When do we leave?”

“Not for a while.”

She stares up at him, eyes slightly narrowed.

“A few hours. I forget how you always need things to be accurate. You’re a pain in my ass.”

“It’s a nice ass though,” she says with a grin, and his hand slides down to her throat; chin resting in the curve between his thumb and forefinger as he leans down to kiss her. And she gives a soft smile and a happy sigh as he trails his knuckles along her jaw. “I’ll be back.” she says, as she tosses off the blanket, gathering it up as she slides off the couch. “Oh God…” she grimaces, placing a hand on the small of her back. “...way too many epidurals have fucked me right up.”

“Sixth one should be all natural. A water birth. You can do it. I have faith in you.”

“I haven’t made up my mind about that yet. Don’t get your hopes up. My body is screwed up enough. Why do you want to screw it up even more?”

“It’s a fucking amazing body.” Tyler declares, admiring that familiar yet always alluring and attractive form; clad in just one of his t-shirts, leggings long disposed off.

Her body has changed over the course of seven years, but there’s still no one...no other body...he wants in his bed. His hands and his mouth know every inch of her; every curve and dip and every one of those little places that -when touched or teased- drive her insane. He doesn’t understand the boredom that some men feel being with the same woman for years on end. How can there be anything dull or mundane about someone you love? About knowing someone’s body THAT well? Being in the one that knows that body in a way no one else will ever get the chance to? It’s an ego thing; knowing you’re the only one that gets to experience it, that you’re the one capable of manipulating it and bringing someone that kind of pleasure. It’s a confidence boost AND a turn on. And he feels it now; that stirring of lust and need and want. It’s carnal. Animalistic. Difficult to control even after almost seven years. Both a blessing and a curse in so many ways.

His eyes are closed when she returns, and he groans deep in his throat when she climbs into his lap; arms circling his neck, bare crotch coming in direct contact with the beginning of his sweats covered erection. She knows what she’s doing; how much she drives him crazy. And she’d never hesitates on taking advantage of it.

“What are you doing?” he asks, when he feels the first touch of her lips against her neck; warm and soft as her mouth leaves no inch of the tattoo or the scars untouched.

“You’re so warm,” she replies, and nestles his face into his trap muscle.

“Something tells me you’re not going this to keep warm.”

She grins against the side of his neck. “You’re very perceptive, Tyler Rake.”

“You’re not exactly the most subtle woman on the planet.”

“I’m a woman who knows what she wants. And I want you. Like, right. This second.”

“And you have the nerve to call me ‘extra’?”

“Look, I’m married to the sexiest in the world. I’m alone with him. One hundred percent alone. With no one around to interrupt us. Considering all the time in the past six years we’ve been cock blocked by one or more kids, I deserve this. And it’s to you...husband...to fulfill my needs.”

He grins, hands settling on his hips; unable to hold back the groan as the tip of her tongue both the inner and outer edges of his ear. “It is, is it?”

“Mmm...hmmm. You’re the only one who is allowed to do these things. So it’s ALL up to you. And I know you’re more than capable of giving me what I want.”

“What if I’m not in the mood?”

“Please…” her lips move along his jaw, and she presses her crotch against the bulge in his sweats. “...I know you. You’re always in the mood.”

“You do know me,” Tyler agrees, his hand sliding up the side of her t-shirt. Callused fingertips sliding over and along her ribs as she licks, sucks, and nibbles every inch of the left side of his neck; following the patterns of the tattoo and moving over the scar. Unable to control upwards movement of his hips, pressing his erection against her; feeling the vibration against his throat when she groans.

“I know you very well,” she says, as she begins to grind against him; actions slow and deliberate, giving a small wince when his short nails rake down her sides. “I know you so well, that I know right now you want to go down on me. It’s your favourite thing to do. And you know I’ll never turn it down.”

“And you call me perceptive.” His fingers dig into her hips as he moves her from his lap, dropping her on her back.

She’s grinning mischievously at him as she slides backwards on the couch in order to give his longer, bulkier frame more room. Watching as large hands push her legs apart; beard scratching her skin as his mouth moves along the inside of one thigh, then the other. Her teeth dragging over her bottom lip and her hips rising in anticipation.

“Asshole,” she grumbles, when he lays a heavy forearm across her lower stomach to keep her still. His lips and tongue and teeth bypassing the ultimate goal in favor of teasing the junctures of where hips and thigh meet. Followed by a series of wet kisses and gentle sucks along her pubic bone.

“I’m in charge here,” Tyler informs her, as his fingertips and tongue trace over every one of those faint, slightly raised stretch marks she hates so much.

“Only time you actually are,” she counters.

He raises his head long enough to smirk at her before returning to the task at hand. Mouth now moving lower; hands sliding between her and the couch and settling on her ass. A cheek in each palms; those calluses rubbing against the skin and long, strong fingers kneading, pinching, and biting into the flesh. Mouth hot and moist against one hip, then the other. Taking his time despite the near painful hard on that strains against the fabric of his pants; fighting the urge to take one of his hands off her ass in order to jerk himself off. And he feels her foot sliding up his calf and over his thigh, growling his approval when she pressed it against his cock.

“Stop,” he snarls, and presses his hips into the couch, trapping her foot. “You’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.”

“Doesn’t take much does it,” she teases, then gives a small help when he bite down on her upper right thigh. “What the fuck, Tyler? Are you going with matching marks now? Don’t be a dick. Stop wasting time.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” he retorts, a palm moving across her ass; two fingers pushing their way between the cheeks, the tip of one brushing against the tight, puckered hole.

“Holy fuck…” she groans, heaving a heavy sigh as he eyes close, body trembling as a fingertip continues to stroke and gently -and shallowly- prod. “...you need to stop that...you need to...shit...fuck…” she whimpers the last two words as his mouth finally moves to where she wants it. Tongue licking a wide strip from one home opening to the other, then back again, tip pressing against her clit.

It doesn’t take much this morning. A few long, lazy laps and less than thirty seconds of fucking on that rigid, sensitive bud and that relentless teasing of that one finger in and around her ass and her orgasm hits. Both hands tightly gripping his hair; holding his head tightly to her as she cries out. A mix of his name and profanities and incoherent babbling. Her eyes still closed and her body still shaking as he moves his way upwards. Pulling up the bottom of the t-shirt as he goes; leaving it bunched under her chin as he suckles at one breast, then the other. Her juices lingering on his lips and in his beard when he finally kisses her; tongue pushing into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. Those normally brilliant blue eyes dark and filled with want and need when he pulls back to look down at her.

“You good?” Tyler asks.

She nods, and when he shifts his position and his hips, her foot finds his cock once again.

He smirks. “You’re bad.”

“You like it.”

“I’m not going to like coming like that.”

“How do you want to do it then?”

“You might regret asking that,” he chides, and she shrieks and then giggles when he roughly flips her onto her stomach.

“On your knees,” he orders, and aggressively yanks the shirt over her, tossing it aside.

Hands smooth over her hips and her ass as she does what she’s told. And he leans over to lick a path along her spine, from her tailbone to the back of her neck. Palming his erection as he presses a series of kisses across both of her shoulders, the fingers of his free hand digging into her hip when his teeth make contact with the nape of her neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he praises, roughly squeezing her ass with one hand as the other continues to jerk himself off. His rough palm skimming over soft, supple skin as he reaches around her; two fingers rubbing briefly at her clit before pushing their way inside. “...so beautiful…”

A whimper escapes her lips and her head falls forward when a third finger pushes its way inside; the stretching uncomfortable but not painful. Her breath quickening and her hips moving on their own accord, fucking those long, thick digits.

“Fuck…” he groans, his hand tightening around his cock, teeth grazing against her shoulder.

It’s almost enough; her fucking his fingers and the smell of her and the noises she’s making and his own hand working himself. A long time ago, it WOULD have been. He would have been satisfied enough to finish himself off and not even about whether she got off as well. But it’s different now. HE’S different. And he removes his fingers and pushes her legs further apart, a foot on the floor and a knee on the couch as he brushes the tip of his cock against that warm, slick opening before pushing inside. Slowly and methodically; letting her feel every inch, every second of penetration.

It’s a beautiful sight. The sweat that glistens on her skin and dampens her hair line. Those huge, dark eyes that look over her shoulder at him. The flushed cheeks. And when he pulls out only to push back in with one solid thrust, she cries out and drops her forehead onto the couch. He stays where he is; enjoying the feeling of being buried inside of her. It’s familiar yet still incredible; each and every time. The way she takes him so well, as if her body was made to fit with his in a way no one else’s ever has.

“Tyler…” she groans into the cushion. “...please...fuck me...I need you to fuck me...please…”

“In a second.”

“Not in a second! Now. Fuck me now!”

He smirks. “You ARE demanding,” he declares, then pulls out once more, only to slam back into her. A hand tightly clasping her shoulder, the other gripping her hip. And he repeats the action several times; each thrust a little harder than the last; encouraged by her cries and her whimpers and how tightly every muscle in her body is drawn. “I don’t think so…” he growls when she reaches between her lips, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her hand away. “...only I get to do that.”

“Don’t do this,” she pleads. “...don’t tease me like this. Just...shit…” she bites down on her bottom lip when the grip on her hip tightens and yanks her back against him; forcing him even deeper. “...oh god...stop...stop teasing me…”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you.”

He presses her palm against her pussy. “Who does this belong to? Tell me? Who does it belong to?”

“You. It belongs to you, Tyler. Only you.”

“Fucking right it does,” he snarls.

Normally he hates this part of the game. He doesn’t mind being aggressive; he knows how far he can take things, how much that little body can take. But talking like that to her...the love of his life, the mother of his children...always so wrong and he always regrets it afterwards. Always worries he crossed certain boundaries and she’d never tell him if he did. But he can’t control himself; the words that come out of his mouth, his actions. All the frustration and worry and stress and rage pouring out of him. Manifesting itself in sex. And he lets go of her hand in favour of grabbing her hair; wrapping it tightly around his fist as the fingers of his other hand bite into her hip as he gives her what she wants. And what HE needs. A hard, no holds barred fuck; pounding into her at a brutal and unrelenting pace. No longer protesting when she reaches between her legs to play with her clit. Continuing to fuck her and chase after his release; his release ONLY. Until he feels her entire body shuddering and those inner muscles clenching around his cock and he hears the screams that erupt from her.

“I wanna come in your mouth.” Tyler says, only pulling out of her when she gives a nod of consent; his fingers releasing her hair as she turns around.

All the edge and the darkness is gone from his face and eyes as he regards her; his hand now gentle as it pushes through her hair and then cradles her cheek. His own eyes closing and his chest dropping towards his chest when those soft, supple lips close around the head of his cock; her hand resting on top of his as he continues to jerk himself off. Only needing several firm tugs before his hand moves from her cheek to the back of her head, holding her firmly in place as he comes; sending spurts of hot, thick semen down the back of her throat.

A mix of profanities and her name rumbling from deep within his chest; entire body rigid as the combination of her mouth and their hands drain him dry. And his eyes are still closed when his legs threaten to give way. Dropping down onto the couch with low growl; chest heaving, sweat trickling down his temples and the back of his neck. Both arms circling her waist when she once more settles herself in his lap and buries her face in his shoulder.

****

It’s a half an hour hike to the campsite; the exact spot where he’d last visited almost seven years ago. The moment of arrival is bittersweet. Even more so than his return to the shack. He can distinctly remember that time in the water. Sitting on the rocks, filled with the fading images of his dead son; wondering just how long it would take to die if he simply gave up right there. He hadn’t had anything to live for; nothing by a drinking problem and a drug habit and a dog and a chicken at home that could be cared for by anyone. For some reason he didn’t give into the wish for death. Despite the pain and the heartache; the immense guilt, regret, and grief that were devouring him from the inside out.

Two hours later his life would begin to change. Nik would offer him the Dhaka job and Esme would be on his front porch. Those five days in that dirty hotel room would follow; allowing himself to surrender to all consuming want and need. He refuses to think of anything that came after that; how quickly things had gone so wrong. Dwelling on that...that brief moment when he thought she’d died along with the rest of the team, the attack by Farhad and the street thugs, the night at Gaspar’s...will cause even more mental anguish. It all leads up to the Sultana Kamal Bridge, and nothing good comes from thinking about that.

Camp is easy to set up; a small two person tent, a couple of folding chairs, coolers of food and drink, one bag containing changes of clothes they may need. Tyler watches her as she cautiously approaches the edge of the cliff; staying four feet back and standing on her tiptoe in an attempt to see over. Never jumping or flinching when he wraps his arms around her from behind; her faith and trust in him never faltering or wavering. It’s always there; never worrying that he’ll hurt her or lead her into some kind of danger or trouble.

She’s the only person who has trusted him THAT much.

“You can go closer.” he says, using his weight to push her forward. “You’re not going to fall. I won’t let you.”

“It’s pretty high up,” Esme frets.

“It’s only thirty meters.”

“ONLY he says,” she gives a nervous laugh. “You’re not going to throw me off, are you?”

He gives a chuckle. “You’d die.”

“Maybe that’s your plan,” she teases. “Get me here and do away with me. No one would ever know.”

“I kinda like having you around. Besides,” he presses a kiss to her cheek. “I haven’t updated your life insurance policy yet.”

She grins. “So I’m safe for another day.”

“Another few. Takes time to get hold of those people.”

She laughs at that, then gives a frightened squeal; her nails digging into his forearm when her feet come closer to the edge.

“Calm down,” he tightens his hold around her waist and pecks her temples. “I promise you won’t fall. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She holds onto his forearms as she kicks loose stones over the edge, watching as the plummet. “You really jumped off this?”

Tyler nods.

“You’re crazier than I thought.”

“It’s not that high. I’ve jumped from higher.”

“Yeah, in the military, with all your gear on. This is different. You DID have a death wish. You’re not expecting me to jump, are you? Because I love you, but no way.”

“Like I said, the drop would kill you. And you’ve got about fifty years left with me, so…”

“You’re not going to jump, right?”

“I’m too old for that shit now.”

“Don’t ever bring the twins here. You KNOW TJ will try it. That kid is fearless. He is all you.”

“Maybe when he’s older,” Tyler reasons. “Ovi’s age. It’s a right of passage; jumping off here. Guy hits a certain age, this is where they come.”

“Are all Australians nuts or is it just you?”

“It’s just me. Do you wanna go down? Go for a swim? We’ll go see the waterfall.”

Her eyes widen. “We’re not jumping, are we?”

“No jumping. I promise. There’s a path that’ll get us down there. Just gotta watch out for snakes. And dingoes.”

“My favorite combination.

“It’s okay, baby. I won’t let a snake or a dingo get you. I can’t say the same if a chupacabra comes at us, though.”

Esme laughs at that. “The chupacabra isn’t even real.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No one has ever seen one. It’s an urban legend.”

“Or maybe whoever HAS seen it, didn’t live to tell about it.”

“What if Slenderman comes for me?”

“How could he? He’s not real.”

“You could take him, I think,” she says, as she turns around to face him. “You could take Slenderman. Just like you could take Jason Bourne. Or that guy Keanu Reeves.”

Tyler grins. “That might be pushing it.”

“I have faith,” she says, then stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his chin. “You haven’t let me down yet.”

****

It takes twenty minutes to get down to the water, and she keeps a secure hold on the back of his shirt the entire time; somewhat comforted by the presence of the holster and gun on his right hip. It isn’t for any aggressive wildlife they may encounter, and she knows that. It’s a very real possibility that someone IS following them; most likely since they left home. Anyone could be watching them; whether it’s someone Anil has sent to keep an eye on things, or one of Mahajan’s people. She tries not to let it bother her; put at ease by not only her husband’s confidence when it comes to handling any situation thrown their way, but the knowledge that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her.

“This place is insane,” she breathes, as they find a small, grassy clearing near the water. A hand over her eyes shielding them from the sun as she takes in their surroundings; the looming limestone cliffs and the plummeting waterfall less than a hundred yards away. And she rummages through the backpack he’d brought along; going through the changes of clothes before locating her cellphone and taking a handful of pictures. “Is it safe down here?”

“As safe as it can be, I guess. All we’re going to see is wildlife, unless…”

Tyler doesn’t finish, words trailing off he does off his shoes and peels off his tank; tossing the latter onto a nearby rock, then placing the holster and gun underneath it. He hasn’t seen or heard anything that remotely suggests that someone is following them. At least not yet. And he doesn’t protest when she wants to take a selfie with the waterfall in the background to send to the kids; wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to her cheek.

“How many girls have you actually brought down here?” Esme asks, eyes sparkling playfully. “Where am I on the list?”

“First and only,” he answers honestly, as he stands calf deep in the cold, refreshing water and watches as she slips out of her clothes. Eyes widening and a grin spreading across his face as he catches sight of the two piece bathing suit she wears; candy apple red and held in place with a bow at the back of her neck and on each hip.

“What?” she asks, and gives a nervous laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m admiring.”

“Admiring what? All the fat and the stretch marks?”

“I don’t see what you see.”

“You need glasses then.”

“Is that what you bought?” he asks. “When we went into town that day?”

She nods, then drops her discarded clothes on top of his. “You don’t like it?”

“Oh I like it. I like it a lot, actually.”

“You always complain about all my other suits. That I need to cover that much.”

“You don’t. It’s all in your head; this bullshit about your body. You look amazing.”

“Even after five kids?”

“ESPECIALLY after five kids. You’re fucking sexy. Isn’t how horny I get around you...and how often I do...evidence of that?”

“I don’t know,” she gathers her hair into a ponytail, securing it with an elastic she sports around her waist. “You pitch a tent if there’s a stiff breeze in the room. Maybe you’re just easy to please.”

“Or maybe in my eyes, you’re the most beautiful, sexy woman on the planet.”

Esme grins, then gingerly makes her way along the rocks. “Not cute?”

“You’re that too,” Tyler assures her.

She cautiously dips her toes in the water, then curls her fingers around his when he offers a hand. “Wait…” she pauses. “...are there alligators in here?”

“No.”

“Okay…”

“Because we’re in Australia and we have crocodiles here, not alligators.”

She scowls and draws her hand back.

“I’m just saying. How many times have I been over this with you? Australia? Crocodiles. Where you’re from? Alligators.”

“There are no alligators in Colorado.”

“You know what I mean. And no. There are no crocodiles here.”

“If there is…” she once more takes his hand. “...I’m the faster swimmer and I’m letting them eat you. I love you, but someone has to be the sacrifice to the crocodile gods.”

“I promise you that there’s no crocodiles here. You think I’d bring you here...in the water...if there was?”

“I don’t know. You’re a crazy Aussie, after all,” she teases, as she wraps both arms around one of his as he leads the way further into the water.

“Technically, you’re an Aussie too,” Tyler informs her.

“By marriage only. You realize both girls were born here, right? None of the boys were. So only Millie and Addie are proper Aussies. The rest of us are pretend ones.”

“Wannabes,” he says. “You’re all wannabe Aussies.”

“I’m good with that. I married the best one.” She waits until the water is almost over her head before jumping onto his back; arms around his neck, legs around his torso. “Best decision ever! Marrying a ridiculously tall guy.”

“You’re like four feet,” he chides. “Everyone’s taller than you.”

“Excuse you, but I’m five four!”

“Bullshit. I have more than a foot on you.”

“Okay, so I’m more like five two and a bit. And you’re absurdly tall. Like a sasquatch. Only better looking. You’re all torso and limbs. So are Millie and TJ. I think Declan’s going to be tall too.”

“That kid’s fucking huge. He’s going to be like six six and built like a tank. Come to think of it, the cable guy did have a couple inches on me.”

“Dick wise?” she teases, and bites his earlobe.

“You know what?” He reaches back and grabs her by the upper arms, effortlessly throwing her over his head into the water. And she’s laughing when she resurfaces, tucking wayward strands of wet hair out of her eyes and behind her ears.

“I’m onto you, Tyler Rake,” she says, as she treads water. “You’re not going to throw me off the cliff. You’re going to drown me.”

“I SHOULD drown you for the dick comment.”

“I know you’re sensitive about it. About your dick. No!” she shoves him away when he reaches for her. “You’re going to drown me. I know you are.”

“Why would I drown you when people know we’re here together? If I don’t show up at home with you and your body washes up somewhere, it’s obvious who killed you.”

“Good point.”

“There’s other ways to do it. Ways I could make it look like an accident.”

“There’s no way you’re going to kill me,” she says, as she wraps her arms around his neck once more, this time from the front. “There’s no payout. That’s what you get for not being on top of things.”

“There’s something I’d like to be on top of right now.”

Esme smirks. “You’d think you never get any. That you’re sex starved or something. I don’t think all forty year old men are perpetually horny.”

“Guess you’re lucky you married the right one.”

“I already know THAT.” she says, as she pushes a hand through his wet hair and then holds his face in her hands as she kisses him. The tip of her tongue gliding over his top lip when she pulls away. “What if someone IS watching?”

“Let them. They might learn something.”

“You ARE a good teacher,” she reasons, and then sighs when his mouth finds the side of her neck. Eyes closing and her head falling forward onto his shoulder as he licks, nibbles, and sucks at the tender skin.

“What are these for?” Tyler asks, as his fingers tug on the bow on her left hip. “Easy access?”

“Why do you think I said it was for me AND you?”

He grins. “I like the way you think.”

“You like the way I do a lot of things,” she declares, then winces when the back of her head comes in contact with one of the towering, limestone walls of the gorge. “Are you serious right now?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You don’t want to wait until we get back to camp?”

“Nope.” He yanks at the ties on the one side of her bathing suit, then pushes the fabric aside and lays his palm against her mound. Kissing her deeply as he pushes two fingers inside of her.

“I think there’s something wrong with us,” she says, as his free hand shoves his board shorts off his hips and over his ass. “This can’t be normal. WE can’t be normal. Wanting each other THIS much.”

“Babe, we are so far past normal we’re not even on the chart anymore.”

“Very true,’ she agrees, and then whimpers when he pushes into her; forehead meeting his shoulder and her nails scraping across his back and down his sides, hands settling on his hips. “You feel so good…” she whispers. “...you always feel so good.”

“I love you.” His movements still as he says it, lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “So much.”

“I love you, Tyler. More than you could ever know.”

He takes it slower this time; both arms wrapped tightly around her, careful to watch her back against the rocks. And when he comes...shortly after her...it’s with her name on his lips.

****

“I know you’re worried.”

Tyler’s eyes snap open from behind his sunglasses, and he turns his head towards her. They lay on a blanket near the water; spread across a small patch of grass. And while he’s stretched out flat on his back, she sits beside him with her legs folded; drinking a bottle of Gatorade and eating from a can of Pringles. He’s pretty sure he’d dozed off; the sun has shifted and the temperature feels a few degrees cooler.

Her hair is still damp and now hangs loose along the sides of her face and over her shoulders, and she wears one of his t-shirts that he’d brought along over her bathing suit. There’s chafing from his beard along the sides of her throat, and a faint bite mark on her right collarbone; the edge of it poking it from the neck of the shirt. He’d taken her twice in the water; second time from behind and much harder and aggressive. And even with her legs crossed he can the bruising on her inner thighs; proof of two days of often rough and intense sex.

He closes his eyes once more and reaches out to lay a hand on the small of her back as the other rests on his stomach. “What makes you think I’m worried?”

“Because I know you. And you can’t turn things off. Not when there’s a threat. Especially with something as serious as this. You are who you are, Tyler. You can’t change that. And I wouldn’t want you to.”

He sighs.

“And you’ve barely been sleeping,” Esme adds.

“I’ve always had issues sleeping. Ever since we met.”

“It’s different when you’re worried. I’ve been sharing a bed with you for how long now? I know you. I know your habits. You’re getting up several times a night and I know it’s not always because of pain. I know the difference; in things that bother you.”

“Am I really THAT predictable?”

“I’m sure there’s things you notice about me. Little things I do. Habits. You’ve probably never thought about them, but I’m sure you’d recognize when I change. When I change.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“Are you scared?” She asks.

“Of what?”

“Mahajan.”

He groans as he sits up, left hand rubbing at his right shoulder. “Maybe a little.”

“What are you scared of?”

He helps himself to a swig of her Gatorade. “There’s a few things.”

“Like?”

“How about you stop worrying about what’s going on in my head,” he suggests.

“You know I’m always going about that. About you.”

“I’m telling you that you don’t need to. You let me worry about what’s going on in my own brain, yeah? You’ve got enough going on in your own head.”

“And I’m telling YOU...for the hundredth goddamn time...that YOU need to stop holding things back. I’m not a child, Tyler. You don’t need to coddle me. I’m a grown woman. And I’m your wife and the mother of your children. I’m the person you SHOULD be talking to.”

“I know…” He lays a hand on the side of her head and pulls her into him, pressing a kiss to her temple. “...I know you worry and I know you want me to tell you things. But have you ever thought that I don’t tell you because I want to protect you?”

“Protect me from what? You? Because I’ll tell you right now that that's a bunch of shit and you know it.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t want to fight.”

“I’m not fighting. I’m talking. WE’RE talking. Which is one the reason we did all of this in the first place. Going away together. So we COULD talk.”

“Not about this.”

“When else are we going to talk about it? We won’t be able to when we get home. Not with the kids there. And you leave in eight days. And those eight days are going to fly by and then you’ll be gone and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I don’t know if I'm ready to say goodbye to you.”

“We don’t say THAT word,” he reminds her. “We NEVER say it. So don’t say it now. That word doesn’t exist when it comes to us. We agreed to never...ever...say it.”

“I’m scared,” she says, tears brimming her eyes. “I’m scared you’re going to walk out the door and I’m never going to see you again. At least not alive.”

“I’m scared of that too,” Tyler admits, and his hand falls to her shoulder, drawing her into his side.

“I know you have to do this. I understand it. This more than any other job you’ve ever done. But it doesn’t make it any easier; watching you walk out the door. And I know you can’t promise me that you’re coming back. But at least promise me that you’ll try. That you’ll do whatever you have to try and get home.”

“I will, baby. I’ll do what I have to. Whatever it takes.”

“Because this life would totally suck without you. I’d miss you too much. And there’s no way I can take care of five kids on my own.”

“You’d be fine,” he rubs her arm comfortingly. “You’re strong. The strongest person I know.”

“I don’t WANT to do it without you. This life. And I know I’m supposed to be some strong, independent woman that can handle everything on her own and that I probably sound really weak and whiny right about now.”

“You don’t. You don’t sound like that.”

“But I love you and I need you here. And our kids need you. Especially the boys. They need their dad. I don’t want them growing up without you. And I don’t want to grow old without you. No matter how much you drive me crazy.”

He gives a small laugh.

“Promise me, Tyler. Promise me you’ll do whatever you have to try and come home.”

“I promise,” he says, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before tightening his hold on her.

And they sit there, pressed together. Neither of them speaking...or moving...until the sun begins to set on the horizon.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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thisiswherewestart · 3 years

Text

I Remember (1/?)

Today had started out like any other Tuesday. I had woken up, logged in to work remotely for a few hours and then moved to a café for a change of scenery and to grab some lunch.

I usually frequented cafés close by my apartment, but my friend had highly recommended this quaint, newly opened one with an extensive pasta menu that was a half-hour train ride away. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a sucker for good pasta, and her rave review of their squid ink spaghetti had haunted me for the past week.

And so there I was on a Tuesday afternoon, after checking that they welcomed lingering customers. My laptop sat open across from me so I could monitor my inbox and I surveyed the simple decorations that created a homely ambiance. The fact that I was the only customer helped complete the serene scene. If this café were within walking distance, I would come again just for the atmosphere.

Ten minutes after giving my order to the waiter, my food finally arrived. The dark sauce coated the noodles beautifully, the seafood peeking out between the long strands making my mouth salivate in anticipation. As I picked up my fork, a tinkle of a bell sounded from the café entrance.

"Hello," a soft but confident voice greeted the approaching waiter. "One salmon aglio olio to go please. Thanks."

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. My back was to the entrance but I would recognise that voice even in a noisy room.

"Tasha?"

And that confirmed it. It was him.

"Dongyoung," I greeted, standing and turning around to face the man. "It's been a while."

"When did you come back to Korea?" His tone was accusing now.

"How are you? How's Taeyong? How are the kids?" I shot out question after question, hoping he would forget the one he had asked.

"We're all fine. When did you come back?"

So much for that.

"Oppa…"

"Don't you 'oppa' me. We're basically the same age."

I sighed, dropping onto my seat and turning away from him. "I've been back for a year now."

He took the seat opposite me. Uninvited, but not unexpected.

"One year." The hurt in his voice made me wince. "A whole year and you didn't bother to call."

"Dongyoung, please."

His laugh was void of mirth. "So we're back to this, huh? The last time I saw you, you exclusively called me Doie."

I looked up at him.

"I guess that's what four years of silence does between friends."

*~*

"Five, six, seven, eight…"

The 7th Sense NCT U unit was made up of my favourite fellow trainees.

Mark, who was the same age as my little brother whom I dearly missed. His naive sense of humour and bright eyed wonder had me growing fond of him in no time at all. Our shared love of story writing also brought us closer, as we encouraged each other to keep up with writing even as we were busy with idol training. He was my happy pill during our years as trainees together.

Ten, my fellow international school kid. We were different in that he came from money while I was the daughter of a diplomat. PSA: not all diplomats are wealthy! They are still government officers and don't earn nearly as much as you think they do. One of the perks was getting subsidised education, which made it possible for my siblings and I to attend international schools in non-English speaking countries we lived in. Ten and I hadn't known each other prior to becoming trainees, but he and I found that we just clicked. We even found several mutual friends in our international school networks.

Jaehyun and I took a little longer to warm up to each other. I was a fairly quiet person, only talkative around people I was comfortable with, so I was never one to initiate conversation. Jaehyun never approached me to start talking either, so a few months after we first met, our relationship had not progressed beyond a polite greeting when we bumped into each other. It took Taeyong to help us break the ice, but once we got to talking we found that our interests overlapped and they were the foundation to our pretty solid friendship.

Taeyong is the one trainee to whom I’m most grateful. I entered the company shortly after he did, and he seemed to decide to take me under his wing upon our first meeting. It didn’t matter that our training schedules didn’t overlap; he would always check in on me and help me when I struggled with getting dance moves memorised. In time, as Taeyong started writing and producing more songs, he would include me in his process and get me to record demos with him and Dongyoung.

Dongyoung was an enigma to me. I knew he had a kind heart because he would do things like invite foreign trainees home during holidays so they would have somewhere to go. I could see the warmth in his interactions with other trainees but he was only ever cordial to me, so I always thought he did not like me very much. It was, once again, thanks to Taeyong that we got closer. Dongyoung and I were both vocalists, but I dabbled in some rapping and Taeyong seemed to enjoy writing songs that featured the three of us. Studio sessions with the two of them became some of my favourite memories of my time as a trainee.

I was looking through the lyrics of the latest song Taeyong had written when the group finished their practice run and paused for a water break.

“Tash,” Taeyong greeted as he flopped down next to me, leaning his back on the cool mirror.

“You guys are looking really good,” I praised, handing him a water bottle. “The modifications you guys made last week improved the overall performance a lot.”

“Right? I’m so glad the choreographer let us do that.”

Dongyoung approached us, sitting on my other side. I passed him the last of my stock of water bottles. “Hey.”

“I’m beat,” he sighed. “But we look good right?”

“Yeah I was just saying that.”

The three of us sat in amicable silence for a few moments, the two of them gulping down the cool water as I finished perusing Taeyong’s lyrics. I shut my eyes as my thoughts turned to my own debut, or lack thereof, and my family’s increasing worries.

“Hey, you okay?” I opened my eyes to find Dongyoung peering at me in concern.

I gave him a half smile. “I guess.”

“You’ll debut soon,” Taeyong assured me, guessing the subject of my thoughts correctly. I appreciated his vote of confidence, but we all knew that was a lie, at least if I stayed at SM. Having debuted Red Velvet two years ago, it was highly improbable that they would debut another girl group so soon. And besides, they were all tied up in NCT’s official debut, with two U units, 127 and Dream all training hard to perfect their debut performances.

“We should probably get back to training,” Taeyong said apologetically. His eyes were kind as he briefly grasped my shoulder with a comforting hand before standing up. “Tell me what you think of that song later,” he nodded at the printed lyrics in my hand. “I want your verse by the end of the week!”

Dongyoung sat studying my expression for a bit longer.

“I’m fine, Doie. Really.” I pushed his shoulder gently. “Go. They’re waiting for you.”

“We’ll go out to eat after this, okay?” he offered, standing. “We can get pasta. My treat.”

“Man after my own heart,” I proclaimed, clutching my chest in jest.

He grinned as he walked to his starting position.

I watched as Taeyong counted the boys into yet another rehearsal. Meeting Dongyoung's eyes in the practice room mirror, I could see the nerves he increasingly felt but rarely showed for their debut performance, only seven days from now. I smiled as brightly as I could, hoping he couldn't tell my heart was breaking knowing I would be leaving in five.

*~*

The Doyoung that sat before me today was a fully fledged kpop star, hair perfectly coiffed and clothes fitting his comfortable but stylish lookbook. He had truly grown into his looks, and seeing him was making my heart ache. With pride? With longing? I didn't even know myself. I had just started developing maybe-more-than-friends feelings towards him when I had found myself back with my family.

"You look good. Healthy."

"Where have you been for the last four years, Natasha?"

His use of my entire first name hurt more than I expected. Was this how he felt when I called him Dongyoung?

"I went back home."

"As in back to your home country?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

"Why? And don't tell me it's because you didn't debut with Red Velvet."

"You're kidding, right?" It was my turn to laugh humourlessly. "Has SM debuted another girl group since then?"

"Well no, but-"

"Don't say they might have added me to the group like they did Yeri. When I left, it had been one year since that happened and two years since they debuted!"

"But why did you have to leave?" Doyoung's voice was rising. "You could have moved to another company. You know you had the skills to debut."

"I just… had to, okay?"

I guess he heard the pleading in my voice because he switched to another line of questioning after studying me for a minute.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice was quiet. “Taeyong and me, especially,” he sighed. “We missed you. We still miss you.”

“I’m sorry. I know it was shitty of me but I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of me leaving.” I did not want to give you guys the chance to persuade me to stay.

There was a pause. “Did you miss us?”

Tears I thought had dried up years ago threatened to fall. “You have no idea how much,” I whispered, willing myself not to cry.

“Oh I think I do-”

“At least you guys had each other,” I blurted.

“Excuse me?” Doyoung narrowed his eyes at me. “We were not the ones who stopped talking to you! I called until your number went out of service! And then we looked for you online but there was absolutely nothing. Why did you fall off the grid completely?”

I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by the waiter bringing Doyoung his food. Doyoung thanked him and handed him a card. “I’ll take care of her bill as well.”

“Don’t,” I protested. We were in the middle of an argument and he still wanted to take care of me. “Just charge him for his food, please,” I asked the waiter.

“I’ll pay for her,” Doyoung insisted. “Thank you.”

The waiter left, an awkward smile on his face as he retreated.

“I have to go now, so we’ll put a pin in this conversation.” Doyoung stared hard at me until I nodded my assent. "Does anyone know you're back?"

I shook my head. "I work in software now. I don't run in the same circles anymore."

"You know we have these things called phones, right?" He gestured at his Samsung with exaggerated motions. "They're amazing. You can connect with anyone, anywhere. Even if they're in a different country." He looked at me pointedly.

"I'm sorry, okay? I know I could have, should have, kept in touch but I just… I couldn't."

"Why?"

A million reasons. "I don't want to get into it right now."

"Fine. But you know I'll keep asking until I get answers."

I smiled, thinking about his habit of persistently badgering us until he got what he wanted. "I know."

"In fact," he grabbed my phone, which had been lying next to my rapidly cooling plate of pasta. "I'm going to call myself so I have your number."

Before I could protest, he had held my phone up to unlock it with my face and was dialling.

"Wait, I-"

He clicked the dial button and automatically put the phone up to his ear, before slowly lowering it again, staring at the screen in disbelief.

"So you kept my number. This whole time. And you still never called."

I didn’t know what to say to that. All I could do was apologise again. “I-”

“Just save it, Tash.” He put my phone back on the table. “I’m going now. Pick up when I call, okay?”

“I don’t like talking on the phone. Can you text me instead?” I joked, trying to keep my tone light.

“Do not test me,” Doyoung glowered. “Answer when I call.”

“Okay,” I murmured, but he was already walking to the counter to pick up his card.

He left without looking back.

#nct #nct fic #doyoung #doyoung fic #nct scenarios

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distant-rose · 5 years

Photo

Notes: Life has been hectic, I’ve been gone for awhile but goddamn people, I’m not dead. At least not yet. I owe @effulgentcolors a story and hopefully that will be up this week, but roughly two weeks ago @justanotherwannabeclassic and @shireness-says challenged me to a “babies with hats” fit battle and I couldn’t resist the call. This is two weeks late, but life is stressful so be kind to me. Anyway, I owe @shireness-says and @optomisticgirl my life for helping me find my muse and getting back. I really have missed the LP verse a lot. Here’s some baby!Harrison cuteness and some surprise Mama!Jones feels. Summary: He’s known he was going to be a dad for roughly seven months, one week, five hours, twenty-one minutes and thirty-six seconds, but it’s one thing to know you’re having a child and another thing entirely for your child to be born. Word Count: 2,400+ Rating: T

Killian Jones is a mess.

His body is on the verge of collapse, and in any other situation, he would have gone home to his bed by now, but not today. Instead, he’s staying where he is and basking in the dawning of this very new, very real and very scary era.

Six hours, twenty minutes and twenty-seconds.

That’s how long it’s been, not that he’s counting or anything, but in six hours, twenty minutes and now twenty-eight seconds, Killian’s life has completely and irrevocably changed.

He’s a dad.

He’s known he was going to be a dad for roughly seven months, one week, five hours, twenty-one minutes and roughly thirty-six seconds, but it’s one thing to know you’re having a child and another thing entirely for your child to be born.

His son has been on this earth for six hours, twenty-one minutes and six seconds and Killian’s internal organs have been a complete mess ever since. His heart has become too big to be contained in his chest, slamming a resentful rhythm against his ribcage while his stomach twists itself in intricate knots over the fact he’s out getting coffee while Emma and their child are on an entirely different floor.

Killian Jones is an entire two floors and six rooms away from his family and he hates it.

He resents the fact he needs caffeine to stay awake and that he can’t just run on the overwhelming amount of emotion that his body seems to be vibrating with.

He’s overacting.

He knows this.

Knowing doesn’t stop the anxiousness that crawls underneath his skin and the impatient tap of his fingers against the metal counter as he waits for the barista to finish his order. The older woman behind the counter keeps giving him dirty looks, but Killian couldn’t manage to give a damn, even if he tried. Her terrible work ethic is keeping him from his kid.

He takes his coffee the second it touches the counter, muttering a half-hearted thanks under his breath as he starts a pace somewhere between a walk and run back to the en-suite upstairs. The coffee is absolute shit and tastes more like charcoal than something remotely palatable, but he can’t bring himself to complain.

Six minutes and thirty-four seconds.

That’s how it takes him to make it back to Emma’s hospital room. It’s a six minutes and thirty-four seconds too long.

The anxiousness in his body calms the moment he opens the door.

Emma is blessedly asleep, her hair splayed across her pillow like a golden halo. It’s almost shocking to see her laying on her back when he knows she prefers to be on her side, but considering the day’s events, he supposes exhaustion has outweighed her usual quest for comfort.

Without his conscious thought, his feet move towards the hospital and before he knows it, he’s standing above his slumbering wife. He bends down and gives her a brief kiss to her forehead. Her brow crinkles under the scratch of his whiskered chin and, for a moment, all the blood in his veins freezes at the fear of waking her but Emma merely mutters something in her sleep before turning on her side away from him.

He sighs in relief.

No one deserves sleep more than her right now. She spent more than twenty hours in a difficult labor and somehow managed to push a nearly five-kilogram child out of her body. She’s the Savior, but she was never more superhuman to him than she was giving birth to their son.

Where Emma doesn’t wake, the other occupant stirs; whimpering sounds from the other side of the room.

Harrison is awake.

He leaves his wife’s side to tend to his son.

His son.

Killian Jones has a son.

He can’t seem to get over that fact.

Harrison Liam Jones is six hours, twenty-nine minutes and fifty seconds old and he looks more like a little burrito than a baby, practically engulfed by the pastel duckling patterned blanket he’s wrapped him. When he was born, he was a screaming red creature covered in vernix and blood, paradoxically tiny and gigantic at the time. He’s still a little red, but now Killian can actually make out Emma’s nose on his son’s face and the beginnings of what looks a bit like David’s chin. The thought makes threatens to bring tears to his eyes.

He gently scoops his newborn son up into his arms in a move that he’s practiced more times than he could count with weighted pillows. Despite his constant training, his arms still tremble as he settles his son against his chest; afraid he’ll slip through his grasp and disappear.

The child lets out another round of whimpers that threaten to turn into full blown cries. Killian nearly panics at the noise, afraid that it will wake Emma. He rocks the boy gently, making low shushing sounds in hopes of placating him. His son seems appeased for the moment, drifting back to sleep and burrowing his face in his new blanket.

He cannot help but grin as Harrison settles. He’s six hours, thirty-two minutes and twenty-five seconds into his role as a father and he’s already managed to get his boy to stop crying. It’s very promising start to the most important job Killian has ever had.

He remembers quite vividly his wedding and how when he married his wife, he thought he couldn’t love anyone as much as he loved her. Now, he knows that it’s not entirely true. The love he feels for Emma is True with a capital T, but she’s not his only True Love anymore. She has to share that spot with someone new. This impossibly small creature has stolen his heart and he just might get sick from the amount of love he’s feeling at the moment.

He runs a finger down Harrison’s cheek, marveling at the softness of his skin. Baby skin is delicate, so unlike his own. His hands are rough, thick with callous and covered with scars while his son is untouched and smooth.

He doesn’t know how anything so pure could come from him.

“You wouldn’t know this, my boy, but your good ole father is more than three hundred years old,” he murmurs quietly, continuing to trace his son’s cheek. “And in three hundred years, I’ve done a lot of things, but nothing…nothing compares…you are the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Harrison doesn’t respond nor does Killian expect him to. His mere existence is enough to make his heart swell with more emotion.

“I know you can’t understand me yet…but you’re new and I’m going to tell you some things you ought to know…in case, you missed it…I’m your father…and that angel sleeping over there…that’s your mother…she’s pretty tired, you gave her a tough time, but we forgive you for it and we both love you very much and that’s never going to change…”

Harrison moved his arm as he shifts himself closer to Killian’s chest. He can’t tell if the boy is actually listening to him or he’s just shifting to sleep on his side; just like his mother. Either way, Killian continues on.

“And it’s not just us…you have a brother…his name is Henry and he’s been waiting a long time to meet you…he’s not here right now, but he will be soon and he’s going to teach you all sorts of things…just like my brother did…and you have grandparents too…you got David and Snow…they’re your mom’s parents…mine are gone…I think my mother would have loved you…”

It’s been a long time since Killian has thought about his mother and now that he is, he finds the memory is unfocused and fuzzy like an undeveloped photograph. He can’t remember her face, not entirely, but he remembers wild red curls, a soft smile and bits of a lullaby she used to sing to him before she got sick. He remembers seashells lining the windowsills and dozens of homespun yard balls that used to litter the floor around her bed.

His fingers brush against the blue hat resting on top of Harrison’s riot of hair. It looked so much like the hats his mother used to pull over his head during the wintertime, ensuring that they covered his ears before sending him to school. Even when she was sick, she make him bend over the bed so she could do it, despite the shakiness in her hands.

An unexpected bubble of emotion rises at the thought.

“She would have made you a bunch of hats…just like this one…” he chuckles wetly. The pain is sharp as he uses his thumb to tug knit down gently over his son’s ears. “Though, where did you get this? I don’t remember you getting anything like this. I’ve washed your clothes twice yesterday in preparation for your arrival and I don’t recall seeing it in the wash.”

“Don’t you know? Babies come with hats.”

Killian swears softly under his breath as he turns to see his wife awake. She’s pulled herself into a sitting position, her fingers playing with the knit of her hospital blankets as she looks at him with amused smile.

“Babies come with hats?” he repeats, though it comes out like a question.

“They do,” she tells him with laughing eyes. “It’s a kind of special magic they have.”

“You’re having me on.”

“I would never.”

“You would,” he says with a soft laugh. “You love teasing me.”

“Only because you make it so easy.”

“Well, now, I feel abused,” he pouts playfully. He’s exhausted but Zeus will strike him dead before he misses an opportunity to flirt with his wife.

Emma snorts in response. “Push a ten-pound human out of your body and then you can talk to me about abuse.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

“Good,” she says. “Now bring me that ten-pound human and his magical hat over here. He’s gonna wanna eat soon.”

“As you wish.” He attempts to give her a wink as he crosses the room with their son in his arms. If he’s a little slower than he would normally be, well, he’s just being cautious. He has precious cargo after all.

“You think you’re being cute.”

“I prefer to think I’m dashing.”

He places Harrison in his wife’s arms, feeling slightly bereft at the loss of his weight. It’s only a brief moment, however. It’s replaced with an overwhelming feeling of love at the sight of his wife and his son together.

“He’s still asleep. How is he still asleep? Isn’t he supposed to be all weepy and crying and poopy?”

“He’s only six hours, thirty-seven minutes and…ten seconds old, Swan. Give him some time and he’ll be the crying weepy pooping mess you’re looking for.”

“Are you seriously counting the seconds he’s been alive?” she asks with a laugh, bracing Harrison against his chest so she can hit him lightly against the chest. “You’re a freak!”

“Give me a break, love, it’s been quite a momentous occasion.”

“I know,” she responds with a roll of her eyes. “I’m the one who pushed him out of my vagina.”

“So, you keep reminding me.”

“He’s huge, Killian. Look at him.”

“So you say…but he looks impossibly small…little…we made a little person, Emma.”

“I know.” Her smile is tired but blinding and she looks like the sun. “And he’s perfect.”

He leans forward and brushes his hand against the duck-print blanket where his son’s toes are bundled up. He just can’t stand the idea of not touching him anymore. Harrison’s leg shifts a bit under his touch and his heart skips a little.

“I heard you talking to him by the way…” she starts, trailing off as she gives him an uncertain look.

“Oh?”

“You were talking about your mom…”

“I was,” he responds lightly, trying not to tense up.

“You never talk about her…”

“It’s hard to talk about someone you barely remember…she died when I was young…”

“How old were you?”

“Roughly six-years old.”

“That is young…” Emma murmurs, shifting her hold on Harrison so her hand brushes against his. He can’t help but close his eyes at feel of her thumb brushing gently against her knuckles. “What exactly do you remember about her?”

“Not much.”

“Try,” she says softly, squeezing his hand. “Tell your son about his grandmother.”

“He’s six hours, forty-five minutes and nineteen seconds old, Swan. He’s not going to remember this.”

“It’s a little creepy that you keep counting like that, but just try.”

“I don’t know where to begin…”

“What was her name?”

“Alice…Her name was Alice.”

“Alice is a pretty name.”

“It is and she was a pretty woman…She…I don’t remember much but her smile…She had a nice smile and red hair…”

“Red hair…like your beard…”

“Not entirely, but yeah…she had red hair…she used to tie it back in a ribbon…she preferred the blue ones…the ones that match her eyes…”

“So she’s the one we have to thank for your baby blues, huh?”

“Yeah…She is…”

“I like her more already,” Emma smiled, looking down at their son. Harrison was starting to wake up, already rooting and whimpering. She shifts her scrub top in preparation of nursing him. “What else?”

“She…she liked to collect sea glass, shells and the like…she made a path once with beach pebbles and she loved the sea…she taught Liam how to swim…and I think she would have taught me too if she wasn’t so sick…”

“I’m sorry that you lost that.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t like she wasn’t there…she found other ways to be with us…she used to make us things…hats, blankets, sweaters, pillows…she once made me a dog out of rags.”

“She sounds amazing…”

“She was amazing, and she would have loved him…and she would have made him a better hat. A green one to match his mother’s eyes.”

“Cute, but don’t tell Granny that. She makes them for the hospital.”

“Granny made his hat?”

“Yes, but not specifically for him. She makes them for the hospital so they can give them to all the newborns because babies come with hats.”

“Six hours, fifty-one minutes and twenty-one seconds old and he already has a hat.”

She laughs, leaning over to kiss his cheek before adding, “Like I said babies come with hats.”

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #little pirates #little pirates fic #my fic #my shit #babies come with hats #harrison jones

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the-pontiac-bandit · 5 years

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catch your dreams

in which amy santiago and jake peralta watch a presidential primary debate with their children, and one of those children is enamored with governor knope of indiana.

also on ao3

“Welcome to the first debate of the 2036 election! My name is Cecile Stafford, and with me tonight is my co-moderator Cooper Liddell. We’re thrilled to welcome you to this exciting primary contest--”

“MOM!” Ana’s shout from the kitchen table drowns out the TV. “I CAN’T FIND MY FOLDER!”

“Oh! I think I saw it earlier!” Jake shouts back from the master bedroom down the hall.

“Um...where?” Ana sounds surprised--his father loses things even more frequently than he does, and only twice in the thirteen year-old’s memory has her father ever been the one to find something lost.

“UNDER YOUR BUTT!” Jake’s uproarious laughter draws eye rolls from his wife and older daughter, seated side-by-side on the couch, and a giggle that matches his own from the small boy seated between them. Rey has a journal open on her lap, a pencil (she would never dare use a pen on the couch--those things can stain) already scratching away at the top of a new page. Her social studies teacher promised her extra credit for her thoughts on the debate, and she’ll be damned if she isn’t going to earn it.

Her mother pipes up from next to her, for the benefit of eight year-old Eli, curled up in the crook of her arm. “Jake, potty words stay in the…?”

“Potty,” comes the somewhat subdued response from the bedroom. Satisfied, Amy turns her attention back to the kitchen.

“Ana, did you check your backpack? It’s by the front door.”

Ana’s sigh of annoyance is audible, even over the audience applause coming from the TV’s top-of-the-line surround sound speakers (Jake had purchased them in order to better appreciate Avatar in all its cinematic glory). “Mom. I already checked there.”

“Well--” Amy starts to reply, ready to list the other places where her seventh-grader habitually leaves her possessions (it’s truly a miracle how easily the Jake and Ana manage to lose things in an apartment so small she has to share a bathroom with her teenage daughters).

“AHA!” Ana cuts her off triumphantly. Then, her voice turns sheepish. “I found it.”

“Where?” Amy asks, a hint of smugness in her voice betraying her certainty that the folder was in her daughter’s sequin backpack, thrown unceremoniously by the door five hours before.

Ana’s voice is sheepish. “...I was sitting on it,” she admits reluctantly, sticking her head around the door to the living room.

Then, a clatter from the bedroom startles all of them. Jake emerges with a triumphant shout, “I was right! It was under your butt!”

None of them hear him, though. They’re all too busy staring--while they’d been peacefully doing the dishes, Jake had been pulling a Tupperware bin of costumes out from the hall closet and adorning himself with every bit of red-white-and-blue attire the Santiago-Peralta family possessed.

“What?” he says, in response to the four pairs of eyes trained on him. “I had to get ready for the debate!” On the word debate, he leaps into the air, doing his best to imitate his fifteen-year-old ballerina daughter. He lands loudly, rattling the decorative plates hung on the wall behind him, and looks up at his family, a mohawk wig worn six years ago to Charles’ Fourth of July barbecue sitting crooked so his graying curls are visible underneath.

The entire family pauses for a second, a commercial about some adult-onset asthma medication droning on in the background. Then, everyone is laughing. Jake hops on the sofa next to his daughter, bouncing everyone around while his son’s cheeks turn rosy pink with his deep belly laugh and his more serious daughter’s soft giggle fills the room.

Jake and Eli are still laughing, Jake’s wig now perched on Eli’s much smaller head, covering his eyes, when a sudden swell in patriotic music and applause jerks them back to reality.

Rey has her hand on the volume button, eyeing them defiantly. “It’s starting,” she informs her father seriously as the speakers approach their maximum volume.

Ana, now laying on the floor with the previously-lost folder full of crumpled pages of math homework, grabs a pillow to cover her ears with an eye roll as Amy snags the remote from Rey. “Quick, turn it down!” she says, still breathless from laughter. “Before the neighbors call again!”

She switches the volume back to acceptable levels, but Rey doesn’t even seem to notice. Jake leans over and notices that she has columns for each candidate in her notebook, with her neat handwriting listing names, previous qualifications, and current offices.

“Our senator’s running, you know,” Rey announces. “Foster Cromwell. He’s supposed to win. It’d be cool to have another New York president. I think I’d vote for him.”

“You shouldn’t vote for someone just because they’re from your state,” Amy explains. “You want to vote for the person with the best ideas.”

“But you think he has good ideas! You voted for him last year!” Rey retorts.

“I do,” Amy concedes. “Senator Cromwell is very smart. But let’s see who else is on stage before we start committing our votes!”

Rey nods, writing furiously in her notebook as Harris finishes his opening statement. Seven candidates follow him, with opening statements so rehearsed and identical that Jake starts to nod off by the time the eighth candidate gets her minute.

“My name is Leslie Knope, and I’m the governor of Indiana. I may be new to the national political scene, but I’ve worked in government longer than any of the people on stage with me. My career began in the local Parks and Recreation department in--”

Something in her voice makes Jake snap to attention. His eyes open, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Amy sitting up straighter, too. Even Ana, pretending to be entirely disengaged from her spot on the carpet, has stopped writing.

The moment only lasts a few seconds, but it captures Jake’s attention. The tiny blonde woman on the far edge of the stage is electric, and her story about a swing, national parks, conservation, and hard work feels like it could be much longer than a minute.

The audience in the room seems to agree, with a swell of applause so loud that Amy has to turn the volume down another few notches.

“Who is she?” Amy asks her daughter.

Rey consults her notebook. “Governor of Indiana. She used to work at the Department of the Interior, and in the National Parks Service before that. She’s from...Pow-nee, I think is how you say it.”

Eli laughs. “Pow-nee’s funny.”

“Pow-NEE, Pow-NEE,” Jake repeats, poking his son in the stomach on each syllable while his son giggles.

“Shh!” Rey shoots a death glare--scarily like Amy’s--at her father as the moderators ask the first question.

Jake rapidly gets lost again in the technical language about public options, data privacy, and global trade pacts, so he settles on watching his wife, who clearly seems to know what’s going on. She’s enthralled, fascinated by the detailed policy discussion. Meanwhile, Rey is scribbling furiously.

“Governor Knope, one of your most-discussed achievements in Indiana is your prison reform bill, which aided the state’s recovery from the opioid crisis and restructured policing in the face of drug crimes. “Which such reforms are necessary at the national level, and how would you pursue them?”

As Governor Knope launches into a response about her work with the local police chief and how that translated into statewide work on bias training and accountability, Rey stops writing, her jaw slowly dropping.

When Governor Knope finishes, the debate cuts to a commercial break, and Rey turns sharply to her parents.

“Grandpa Ray talks about that stuff all the time!”

Amy smiles at her daughter. “He does. He’s worked hard on some of those policies in the NYPD for years.”

“But government people do it, too?”

“They can.”

“Do government people in New York do it?” Ana pipes up.

“Sometimes, but not as much as we want them to. That’s why Grandpa Ray has been working so hard--to change those things from the inside, since people aren’t changing them from the outside.”

“Oh.” Rey looks thoughtful. “Do you have to be a governor to do that? Change it from the outside?”

Amy looks thoughtfully at her daughter before starting an explanation about the endless nonprofit groups, researchers, and government employees who help elected officials make decisions like Governor Knope’s. She’s quickly cut off, though, by the music indicating that the debate has returned, which cues her daughter’s attention back to the candidates and her notebook.

----------

Amy’s surprised the next day when her daughter brings home five books from her high school library about the history of government and criminal justice reform. Rey dives in headfirst, and it’s all she talks about for months. Later that year, Amy’s just as surprised when Governor Knope surges from behind in the polls and captures the nomination, and even more surprised when she denies a strong Republican president a second term.

By April of her oldest daughter’s senior year, Amy’s only a bit surprised when Rey confidently announces that she’d like to turn down NYU and move to Washington, D.C., and study political science. When Jake and Amy are on a train back from Georgetown the next fall, having just moved Rey into her new dorm, Jake can’t stop crying about their baby moving away. Amy smiles as she pats his shoulder as their two younger children roll their eyes.

And six months after that, when her daughter calls screaming about an internship with President Knope’s special commission on national criminal justice reform, Amy’s hardly surprised at all.

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake peralta #amy santiago #parks and rec #parks and recreation #leslie knope #well #president leslie knope #rey and ana and eli #kidfic #yall i wrote next-gen fic #about the fucking democratic primary debate #as i have been saying all day #this was an ACCIDENT #i was in a dangerous zone between parks and rec and b99 and my actual major #so anyway #my writing #lmk what you think

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pbwsports · 4 years

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Driveways, canyons, pools: NFL players create clever workouts

A farm. A field. A canyon. A pool. Even a driveway. As NFL players wait for a return to normalcy before the 2020 regular season begins, they have had to get creative with how and where they train.

The ripple effects of these unprecedented times -- nationwide social distancing during the coronavirus pandemic and an unknown timetable for a vaccine --have altered the professional sports landscape, and the NFL is no exception.

NFL commissioner Roger Goodell authorized the reopening of all team facilities this week, in accordance with state and local regulations, although coaches and players who are not undergoing rehabilitation are prohibited from entering team buildings. While a handful of clubs took advantage of this allowance, states such as New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Virginia, Michigan, Illinois, Washington and California are still imposing heavier restrictions that affect a dozen team facilities.