#'i think teenagers should wear a mood ring so we can tell what their mood is for the day' i could say the goddamn same to you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sope-and-shine · 4 years ago

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The Right of a King: Pt. 1

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 15.1k -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, Namjoon is kind of a jerk but he gets better...kinda, also a bit of a misogynist, technology abuse RIP the museum equipment, Jimin IS that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money - but will anyone complain? no.

A/N: This whole fic is a BEAST i sWEAR! I am however really excited to share this fic with everyone! This was originally for a collab that never got to happen -RIP - but I liked the idea too much to just throw her away!

I do want to give a huge shout out to @sakuraguks-main for beta reading this as well as my squad for their constant encouragement throughout the writing process.

Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to writing part 2

Masterlist

* * *

“Just the lunch box and the banana milk this time?”

“Uh…” You look up from your wallet to view your items on the counter. It was just one prepackaged lunch and a few banana milks, much less than you usually buy on your routine dinner stop. You don’t want to buy too much, but you’d need something for later in the morning too.

You settle for grabbing a few bags of chips off the rack next to you and set them on the counter, “I’ll take those too.”

He nods and rings them up, bagging them while you pay with your card. He grabs your receipt and tucks it in the bag, handing them to you as you slide your wallet back into your bag, “Have a good evening, (Y/n)!”

You nod, “Thank you! See you tomorrow, Gyu!” You wave to him as you exit the convenience store and step back into the bustling city.

Stopping for food is always a must for you before every shift with it being smack in the middle of your route. If you were to spend 10:00p.m. to 8a.m. by yourself with no food, you would probably go insane. It wasn’t like you couldn’t bring them from home, but it was much more convenient to stop on your way there. Occasionally, you’ll attempt to pull back on your snack intake, but Gyu never makes it easy on you when you do. He just makes it another typical day for you.

Wake up at 2:30, take a shower, do your school work, get ready for work, leave the house, stop to buy food from Gyu, and then arrive at the grand entrance to the Seoul Museum of History and Art.

The building itself is 4 stories high - not including the lower level storage it sits on top of - and 1 city block in length and width. It’s exterior is grand and extravagant with 3 large pillars that encase the 4 doorways that lead into the lobby. A large staircase greets you at the sidewalk, flower beds decorating the front along the brick railing on either side of the stairs. You never take the stairs on your way in, choosing to take the ramp hidden in the flowers up to the entrance instead. You’d have enough problems walking around the entire museum, adding more stairs to the mix would only ruin your mood.

Thankfully, Jin is always there to greet you on your way in. He never fails to brighten your day when you see him. Dressed sharp in a white button down tucked into fitted black dress pants with a grey suit jacket on top, he stands with his hands together in front of him and a large welcoming smile. His hair is parted just off center, not losing shape even as he nods to the patron in front of him.

You wait for him to finish his conversation before you greet him, “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Worldwide Handsome himself.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Jin chuckles. He lets his shoulders relax, moving his neck from side to side before looking at his watch. He looks impressed, “Wow, you’re earlier than usual.”

You shrug, “Yeah, Hoseok said he needed to talk to me about the exhibit pieces that are coming in.”

“Say no more,” Jin raises his hands in front of him and shakes his head, “I’ve heard all I need to.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” You laugh. You shake your head and sigh, “I should get going so I can get ready to clear the last minute rush.”

“Don’t work too hard, night guard.” He gives you a mock salute and you turn away, waving goodbye to him as you continue down the corridor into a sea of people.

Most people would think a museum wouldn’t be so popular, but your crowds never seemed to dwindle. You suppose you’d have Yoongi to thank for that. He ran the museum so smoothly it was almost like clockwork. Doors opened at 9 and they closed at 9, new exhibits rotate in and out every 7 ½ months to the day, and employees were put through severe background checks and training just to make sure they’d be competent enough to work in his museum. Everyone that works in the museum was handpicked by Yoongi himself, and everyone chosen contributes everything they have to be here.

You pass by the gift shop, spying Jimin at the counter helping a few kids pick out candies. He notices you passing and smiles, giving you a quick wave that you return before he gives his attention to the children in front of him.

You continue on down the hall, passing the cafe and the restrooms. The walls begin to lose their decor the farther you go, becoming planer and planer until you reach the break room doors.

“He was like, ‘do you think toys for cavemen were any different from present day? Like that shit must be wild bro’ and then they all started laughing at me when I said they didn’t have a Toys R Us, so yeah, they were different from now.” Jeongguk says as you enter the room. His impeccable timing for ‘strange conversation’ never ceases to amaze you every time you walk through the door.

Jeongguk’s a great guy, always very respectful and eager to learn more, but he’s been working as a tour guide in the museum for about a year now and he still hasn’t seemed to pick up on anything. You’re pretty sure Yoongi only hired him to keep the single ladies coming back. It was hard to correct someone with such a cute, bunny smile and such remarkable enthusiasm in the work place.

“Do you think it was an inside joke?” He proceeds to ask, his attention trained on Johnny who stands at the locker to the right of yours.

The man in question can’t stop himself from giving the younger a disappointed frown, “Dude...you’re the joke…”

Jeongguk tilts his head in confusion and you jump into the conversation, “I’m sure they’re just being teenagers, Guk. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” You turn to briefly glare at your locker mate as you open it, turning your frown into a smile when you face Jeongguk again, “Tomorrow is another day!”

“You’re right!” He closes his locker and throws his bag over his shoulder, his confidence already returning, “I’ll learn everything I can about cavemen toys and come back tomorrow prepared to tell all of my tours about them!”

He leaves before you can say anything back, off to do whatever it is he usually does after work. You don’t mind though, it’s a little hard to understand the college sophomore anyways. At least with him leaving you can relax before your shift starts.

Johnny sighs next to you, “You mother him too much.”

“I don’t mother him. I just don’t want to explain to him what they’re actually talking about.” You argue, placing your bags on the hooks in your locker. You take off your overcoat and replace it with your black security jacket, fixing the collar, “Besides, he’ll figure it out by this weekend and then he won’t make eye contact with either one of us for the next week.”

“Whatever you say.” He pulls out a lint roller and hands it to you before closing his locker, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Waving behind you with the roller in hand, you say, “Have a good night!” You hear the door open and close behind you, leaving you alone in the room to sort yourself out.

You make quick work to de-lint your black work pants, setting the roller at the top of your locker. Then you take the bags you set down and pull them over to the table at the center of the room, leaving your locker open while you take out your food to be refrigerated. When you have everything you need, you place the leftover snacks back on the hook and shut the door.

The door opens on your way to the fridge, Hoseok walking in with a folder in his hands. He looks up from whatever he’s reading and his eyes widen in surprise, “You’re here!”

You open the fridge, “Yeah, you told me to come in a little early.” You set your bag on the top shelf, close the door, and turn to him, “You wanted to talk to me about tomorrow?”

“Right.” He approaches the table and sets his stuff down, sorting through a few papers before he pulls one from his stack. He extends it to you, “This is all the information about who we’ll be meeting with tomorrow. It has times, names, and a manifest.”

“Everything is the same from the texts you sent me, right?” You ask, eyes skimming over the sheet for anything new.

“Yes! Each artifact was individually packed, so we should only have 12 new pieces coming in tomorrow.”

“Okay, so we just need to keep an eye on what they bring in.” You say, more to yourself than to him. You take a moment to let the information sink in, nodding in understanding when you’re sure you have it all down. You look back up to Hoseok who’s already discarding his security jacket, “Did you have any luck on new night guard help?”

“Ah-...no,” Hoseok sets his jacket over the back of the chair in front of him. He’d been searching for new help ever since Chanyeol left, leaving you to run the night shift alone. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t ideal for a museum in the middle of the city. You knew that and so did Hoseok. “I’ve been working on it, but it’s been hard with the new arrivals. Besides, you know how Yoongi is when he’s hiring new employees.”

You nod, knowing exactly how anal the museum director could truly be, “Yeah, I know. Just keep me updated though?”

You don’t really mind working by yourself, but you could only go so many days without a single day off. Thankfully, Hoseok was understanding of this, “I will! I’ll work something out, I promise!”

“Thank you,” You smile. You grab your bag off the table and hoist it over your shoulder, “I’m gonna go clock in and see about ushering the night crowd out.”

“Hyuk should be starting on level 1.” He informs you.

“I’ll take level 4 then.” You bid Hoseok goodbye and head across the hall to the security room, setting your stuff down in your chair and clocking in at the main computer. You take a moment to check the camera’s, looking for the most populated areas to look out for and which exhibits you could close as you go through.

This was something you did everyday. You’d find the unpopulated areas first so you could sweep the rooms and lock the exhibits behind you. One by one, you make sure to clear the floor before you move to the next level.

The third level is much busier than the other levels, having had the most change to it’s layout since the new exhibit was brought in 2 weeks prior. Families make their way to the stairs while couples try to catch one last look at exhibits they missed in favor for another.

Walking into the Ancient Dynasties Exhibit, you nod to the partons that you pass on their way out, stopping by the occasional straggler to let them know it’s time to go. You rarely ever have problems with getting someone to leave - maybe once or twice you’ve had to get physical with someone or call the police to escort them out of the museum - but the number of times is so small you could count them on one hand. There’s only one person you have to repeatedly kick out of the exhibit, and he’s worse than any patron you’ve ever dealt with.

“Taehyung, I need you to leave.” You tell him, approaching him from behind. His green, 3 piece suit is only slightly wrinkled from his work throughout the day, his jacket discarded and set off to his side.

The bubbly curator turns his head over his shoulder, dirty blonde locks still kept in a perfect side-sweep thanks to his “very essential” hair gel. His smile is almost a tease as he says, “Just a few more minutes.”

You cross your arms and sigh, “I’m counting.”

The saying “Just a few more minutes” has lost all meaning with Taehyung. You haven’t believed him since your third day of working together. He’s never been good at leaving his exhibits, wanting to take pride in his work. Despite having the ability to take pictures of the area as it’s curator, he insists on committing them all to memory. In hindsight, it’s very endearing. However, his wants tend to put you behind your own schedule.

He turns back around and you take a seat next to him on the bench. You take an obligatory look around the section he sits in, glancing over each artifact that decorates the walls. From tapestries or writing displays that hang on the walls, to small podiums with items far more fragile encased in glass. In front of you - roped off and on a placed on a small stage - is a large sarcophagus covered in gold with two lit candle placed beside it. Behind it is a wall of flowers, all apparently favorites from when the King was alive.

“Have I told you about Namjoon hyung?” He asks, referencing the mummy in front of you.

King Kim Namjoon of the Kim Dynasty. The only king of Korea to be mummified. Of all the exhibits you’ve been through with Taehyung, this one was his favorite. You could really say he’s obsessed with the dead King! Even with 6 more exhibits to his name. Taehyung spent almost all of his time in this section.

“I think I could talk about this guy in my sleep!” You laugh, nudging his side playfully, “And should you really be calling him ‘hyung’? If anything, he’s an ‘ahjussi’ to you.”

“Yes, but I know so much about him that he feels like a hyung to me!” He argues with a certain admiration in his eyes, “I’ve spent years waiting for this moment to have him in one of my exhibits, and now he’s right at my fingertips!”

He really isn’t exaggerating either. Before the king arrived, Taehyung would show you continuous updates about his uncovering and the updates on how his body was kept. The day his exhibit was approved, you thought he was going to explode. Of all the curators and all of the possible museums, he got King Namjoon. Anyone who didn’t know would’ve thought he won the lottery. In a way, he did.

“His exhibit here is a permanent one, Tae. He’s not going anywhere, so you don’t have to worry about him leaving anytime soon.” You assure him, placing a hand on his arm. Your smile turns into a grin, “What I am worried about is you leaving soon. Get out of my museum before I go find Yoongi.”

“I’m not afraid of Yoongi.” You raise an eyebrow at him and his shoulders drop, “Okay, so maybe I’m terrified of Yoongi, but that’s not important right now!”

You give his shoulder a light nudge, “Go home, Taehyung. The rest of your hyung will be here tomorrow.” You tease.

He sighs and leans his head back, “You say that like he didn’t arrive all put together. He’s a mummy, not Frankenstein.”

You hit his arm, “Get out of here.”

“Okay!” He stands up and turns to you with a boxy grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t work too hard.”

“I never do.” You wave him off, watching him saunter out of the exhibit with a little jump in his step. Even after 14 hours on the clock of rounding the museum to look at his works, he’s still running like he just woke up. Some days you wish you could be as happy with your job as Taehyung is, but how many people truly loved working the night shift in a dark, quiet museum?

* * *

“Alright, let’s make this fast and efficient everyone!” Yoongi barks, walking up to the loading dock where you and Hoseok stand on opposite sides of the doors. He eyes the unloading crew unlocking the truck and sends them a warning glare, “It’s a full moon tonight, and I will not be out at 3am like last time.”

“You need to relax, Yoongi,” Hoseok warns him, still standing across from you, “It’s just a few small pieces and then we’ll be out of here before your ‘witching hour’ is here.”

Hoseok wiggles his fingers for a “spooky emphasis” and you stifle a chuckle. Yoongi is not as amused, “Laugh all you want, but at least I won’t be dead.”

“Is that a threat? Can I file an HR complaint?” Hoseok asks.

Yoongi sighs, “Just do your job while they unload so we can leave.”

You offer a teasing grin and a nod, “Yes sir~”

Yoongi walks away and Taehyung replaces him, standing next to you instead of in the way of the workers. He rolls back and forth on his feet, watching happily as if he were a child at Christmas.

“Did I tell you what’s coming today?” He asks.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure you may have mentioned it here or there.”

Of course, you know what was coming in. Your job is to protect it with your life. Hoseok gave you the run down via text on your last 5 shifts and again today as soon as you walked through the doors. More paintings, a chair, a dusty old book, and the shining jewel of the King’s tomb.

“His lover’s necklace!” Taehyung beams, “According to what we know, this necklace was used by the King to find his soulmate. We believe that because he didn’t take a queen, he never found his other half.”

You shrug, “Maybe he wasn’t really looking.”

“Maybe...maybe not. Most historians believe he mummified himself so when fate brings his soulmate to him, he’d wake again and they’d spend eternity together.” He turns to you and flicks your forehead, “You would know if you actually paid attention to me.”

You push him back, “Well, excuse me if I can’t listen to you talk about his majesty for more than 10 minutes a week.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns back to the movers. His annoyance quickly turns to excitement as he catches sight on the last box being carried in, “Is that the necklace?”

“Uh…” The man carrying the box looks at the label on the side, nodding to Taehyung in confirmation, “Yes sir.”

“Oh! Follow me!” Taehyung grabs your arm and pulls you after him. You turn your head back to Hoseok for help but he’s already waving you off while he closes the loading doors. You both follow the crew member to the table where a few other small items are being opened already, waiting long enough for the man to open the box for you. You can’t see the inside of the crate with Taehyung in your way, but he gets the first look at whatever dingy piece of jewelry is inside. He flails in excitement, “Look at this!”

Taehyung rushes forward, pushing the man helping him out of the way to reach into the box. When he turns around, he holds a smaller box in his hand, “It’s right here!”

“That’s another box…” You point out, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“It’s not just another box!” He argues. He undoes the latch and pulls the lid back towards him, revealing the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. A delicate string of silver stones bedazzled with small fuschia gems all laced together with a golden band weaving under and over. It glistens in the shine of the storage room work lights, drawing you in with every hypnotizing twinkle.

Taehyung smiles knowingly, enjoying your sudden engrossment in the artifact, “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

You nod, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch the delicate jewel. It takes a surprising amount of restraint from you just to pull away, “It’s definitely pretty.”

Yoongi claps his hands from the table beside you, “Let’s get these up to the Ancient Dynasties exhibit and in their places so we can get out of here.”

Everyone takes a box and begins to move upstairs, you and Hoseok helping the men with the old chair to ensure it doesn’t get stuck on anything. With the few items left to be brought into the exhibit, it didn’t take long at all for everything to be settled into their rightful places.

“Perfect! It’s all perfect!” Taehyung cheers, clapping his hands and squeezing them together. His excitement for this event was unmatched, and you know that in the morning when you see him next, he’ll be bouncing up and down just as he is now.

Hoseok nods to you, “Let’s lock them up.”

“Right.” You pull out your keyring and begin the process of going case to case while Hoseok sets their alarms after you. You make it all the way around the room until you stand in front of the necklace again. It’s beauty draws you in, having never seen something like this before. Many would think it too bulky and busy for someone to wear everyday, but a part of you could see it’s appeal.

A part of you wouldn’t mind wearing it at all.

Taehyung walks over to where you stand locking the cases and audibly gasps behind you, “Fix it!”

You jump, “Fix what?”

“The necklace! It’s not straight!” He points at the case and you turn your attention back to the object beneath the glass. Staring at with a clearer mind, it is indeed tilted just slightly to the left. If you were to just glance at it, you probably would have never noticed. But nothing could get past a perfectionist like Taehyung, “We have to fix it now!”

“Okay!” To appease the overly attentive curator, you unlock the case and adjust the necklace yourself. You pull the delicate string of stone and gem into place, locking it back up when you’re done. It glimmers in the corner of your eye as you turn back to Taehyung, “Better?”

He grins, knowing fully well that you’re more than annoyed with him, “Perfect.”

“Alright, now that we’re all done, everyone needs to leave so I can go home.” Yoongi announces.

Hoseok chuckles, “You really don’t want to be up past midnight do you?”

“I don’t care about being up past midnight. I don’t want to be out past midnight.” The older man grumbles, most likely cursing the other in the back of his mind, “There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.” Hoseok teases, making Yoongi glare at him even harder than before. He turns to the movers and waves for them to follow him, “Gentlemen, let me show you back to your truck. We wouldn’t want the grump over here to bite your head off.”

The group follows after Hoseok and so does Yoongi, “You’re so lucky you’re my friend, Hoseok, or I would fire you so fast.”

Hoseok only laughs at his loose threat, “Well, if you’d like to take the bus then be my guest.”

They all leave the exhibit and you turn to Taehyung who still stands in front of the case admiring the necklace inside, “So, I’ll see you early tomorrow, Tae?”

He turns back to you and gives you a large, reassuring smile, “Bright and early.”

“Go and get some rest for your big day then.” You say, placing a hand on his back and nudging him towards the door.

You watch him leave the exhibit, laughing at the way he dances to the music playing in his head. You take the responsibility of closing the gate, glancing over the exhibits contents between the bars before following Taehyung yourself. You say goodbye to Yoongi and Hoseok at the front door, ensuring the door gets locked behind them before getting to your own duties that were halted because of the shipment.

---

It’s later in the evening when you finally get to make your rounds through the empty halls of the museum. You’d checked every camera in the building twice, filling out your night paperwork as well as the visitor log for Hoseok to look over in the morning as you went. All you really had to do was roam the halls every now and then, keeping an eye on the monitors for anything suspicious.

The night shift was never quite as tiring as the day shift. Your interaction with patrons or real people was always far below what Hoseok and the dayshift would have to deal with - that was part of the reason you chose to take over the night shift. It was a bit more time consuming with just you, but hopefully Hoseok will find someone to replace Chanyeol before the New Year.

You hear a faint bang down the corridor and you pause. You’ve heard bumps like this before, mostly when it would rain and the tree by the ramp outside would hit the window. Rain wasn’t on the forecast for the evening, but that had never stopped it before. Not so easily scared, you continue on down the hall, stopping at the end of the hall when you hear it again.

“What the fuck…?” You say to yourself, a slight shake in your voice. The bang sounds again and you reach for your flashlight, it being the only protection against intruders.

In the three years you’ve worked as a security guard, you’ve never had a break in. Even before you, there had never once been an attempt by anyone to steal anything. In reality, the alarms should’ve gone off by now if someone had made their way into the museum. That meant that someone was smart enough to get past the security system, or you were going crazy.

You really hope you’re going crazy.

You make your way down the hallway, following the bumps and bangs into the Ancient Dynasties exhibit. The gate is locked - it hasn’t been unlocked since you left the room at midnight - but the noise isn’t one easily mistaken.

Against your better judgement you unlock the gate, stepping in and leaving the gate cracked behind you. If you needed a quick escape, then you wanted to be able to yank it closed as well. The noises cease as soon as you’re completely past the gate, sending an ominous chill up your spine. At a glance, nothing in the room seems out of place. Nothing looks to have been moved or damaged, but that does little to settle your unease.

“This is normal...everything is normal.” You say to yourself, trying to trick yourself into having the courage to move forward.

You spot the necklace in it’s spot close to the sarcophagus. It’s glass remains intact, just like every other item within the exhibit’s walls. It would make sense for someone to come after it considering it’s value, yet there it remains untouched.

“So where did the banging come fr-Agh!” You scream as the sarcophagus lid bursts open, falling to the floor in front of it and ripping the ropes connected to the wall right out.

Inside the now open casket, the ancient king covered in tattered, dusty cloth rolls his head. You can see his mouth move from underneath the dirt as he yawns. His arms raise to stretch in front of him, the mummy taking one step out of his box.

You can only stand in shock as you watch what happens in front of you. You had to be dreaming. There was no way you were actually awake witnessing a dead king coming to life in front of you. This had to be some sort of sick joke from Yoongi for calling him short. Maybe Johnny for calling him out in front of that group of fourth graders. Someone has to be messing with you.

The mummy turns his head to you and your breath hitches. You’ve never wanted to have seen The Mummy so much in one moment than this one, wishing you knew what exactly to do in this situation. You wish your feet would move, but they’re planted so firmly to the ground that they feel more like cement than limbs.

The monster before you takes a step in your direction, and you scream. You will yourself to move back, but you can’t stop yourself from stumbling over your own feet. You trip and land on your bottom, your body not even registering the pain as you attempt to scoot back away from the danger that continues to follow after you.

Every step he takes is another scream that releases from your lungs, your fear getting the best of you. It isn’t until your back hits the large display case that helps to divide the room that you realize you have nowhere else to go. You turn your head away, preparing yourself for whatever is about to come.

But nothing does.

You take a peek at the tall being before you and notice that he’s stopped moving, towering over your cowering form with his head tilted. His mouth opens and sounds come out, but his speech is muffled by the bandages. He seems to realize this though as his bandaged hands fly to his face.

You watch him pat around his face and neck until he finds a loose cloth, pulling it out and beginning the process of unwrapping his face. You watch in horror, unsure if the image before you will haunt you forever or not. To see what’s left of a 1,000 year old decomposed body that’s been “preserved” was something you never thought you would ever have to bear witness to. Hopefully, your therapist for this experience will understand.

If you get that far.

However, you weren’t expecting to see a full head of healthy brown hair appear as he went, nor did you expect to see healthy, tanned skin be freed from the confines as well. Brown eyes meet yours and a smile is uncovered, “Hello.”

“Hi...” You blink rapidly, hoping if you do it enough times your vision will clear, but the man in front of you still half-covered in gauze doesn’t disappear. You shake your head, “Am I awake?”

“You are as awake as I am.” He says with a pleasant smile.

“That’s not a very reassuring answer...” You can’t help but stare at him in awe and wonder just how this was happening. Of course, Taehyung had told you countless times about this supposed curse or whatever it was, but you thought it was all just a hoax your ancestors believed in. There is no possible way that you are actually awake and experiencing reincarnation or rebirth or whatever this is firsthand.

“Ow!” You feel a pinch on your calf, pulling you from your thoughts and back to the matter at hand. Or more specifically, the person before you.

“Well, did you feel that?” He asks. In your dazed state, you hadn’t noticed the man bend to your level and reach out to pinch you with rag covered fingers. The dust and mold leave a stain on your work pants and you can’t help but frown in disgust, “Yeah. Yeah, unfortunately I did.”

“You must be frightened and confused. Allow me to introduce myself-” He bows his head to you from where he kneels on the floor, “-I am King Kim Namjoon of Korea.” He looks back up and smiles bright, showcasing his dimples, “It is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

You tilt your head in confusion at his choice of words, “I’m sorry, you’ve been waiting for me? I don’t understand.”

“Are you not aware of our bond?” He asks, tilting his own head to the side.

Of course you know about his bond, it’s all that Taehyung has ever told you about! His necklace was gifted by the moon goddess so that when his soulmate touches it, he’ll wake up and they’l-

It takes you a moment to realize that he believes you to be his long lost soulmate, and you’re ready to spiral into another frenzy when you do, “No…”

Soulmates aren’t real. Nobody just walks around and bumps into their soulmate on the street. They don’t hear their voice in the back of their heads. They don’t wait over 1,000 years to be matched with a fucking dead guy.

“No.” You repeat, more confident in yourself.

“I understand you may be confused as to what this all must mean, but I’ll explain it to you-” Namjoon tries to reach out to you again, but you’re quick to push him away this time.

You stand from the floor in a rush and take two steps towards the center of the room where the two display cases separate and show a clear path to the exhibit’s only exit, “No, you won’t. Please return to your box.”

He stands up after you but stops when he sees you step back again, “But we’re destined to be together!”

“Destiny isn’t real! This-” You gesture with both hands from you to him, “-isn’t real!”

“Our bond is as real as you and I!” He argues. You can feel the want and passion dripping from his voice. It isn’t hard to tell how much he truly believes you’re his soulmate, but he’s dead wrong - no pun intended. “I’ve spent so long waiting for you.”

“Nope.” It didn’t matter how many times he flashes you that lovestruck look. Soulmates weren’t real, and whatever is going on in front of you isn’t real either, “This isn’t happening.” You turn away from him, resorting to pacing out your frustrations instead of voicing them.

Namjoon watches you with a disappointed frown and slumped shoulders, “Well, this isn’t how this was supposed to happen.” He mumbles.

You attempt to calm your breathing, pleading with your rationale to find some way - any way - to explain what’s happening. The whole interaction felt like a crazy fever dream that manifested on the worst day of a cold. They’re always weird, but they’re never this realistic.

You turn back around to address the not-so-dead king and yelp when you see him pulling at his wrap, “What are you doing?!” You ask as he tugs and pulls at the rotten fabric.

Namjoon looks up, pausing his ministrations to give you an answer, “I’m removing these incessant wrappings.”

He returns to his unwrapping, leaving you to watch him as he goes. He wasn’t naked - thankfully - but you weren’t prepared for him to immediately unwrap himself. In all honesty, you wanted him to wrap himself back up and return to his box. Fortunately for you, under his wrappings he wears a loose white shirt and loose tan pants, his shoes long forgotten.

When he finally frees himself, he takes a moment to look around the room. His gaze trails over the walls, “What is this place? Why are we not in my tomb?”

“You’re in a museum.” You explain, watching closely to gauge his reaction. In a way, he wasn’t really that old in retrospect, but you doubt he’d seen a museum before.

He turns to look at you, just as confused as you expected him to be, “What is that?”

You shrug, “It’s a place where people go to see old things and art.”

Namjoon breaks into a smile, a red tint coloring his cheeks, “I wouldn’t say I’m art.”

“I didn’t.” You say, causing Namjoon’s face to drop just the slightest.

He’s quick to mask his disappointment with a polite smile. Turning to the side of the case he stands on, he looks back to the exhibit around him. He looks up and his eyes trail over the lights above him, “What dynasty is this?” He asks.

“Uh...the capitalist dynasty?” You reply, unsure of what you would call this era of time. Namjoon looks confused and you sigh, “You’re in the 21st century.”

“Fascinating…” He takes a long look over the glass case a few feet in front of him - the one that holds the crown made for his queen - before he moves forward, reaches out, and swipes a hand over top of it, collecting a thin sheen of dust on his fingertips.

“Don’t do that!” You rush forward and grab his wrist, pulling it away in fear of the alarm going off. Anybody who even got too close to it should set it off, yet no siren wails at his touch. The alarms had been set by Hoseok himself, so they have to be broken if neither of you were setting it off, “What…?”

“Can I have my arm back, or is this a new rude custom I’m unaware of?” Namjoon asks, staring at the place on his wrist your hand holds hostage.

“No, just-...” You release his arm and take a breath as a poor attempt to remain calm, “-just don’t touch anything.”

“We’ll need to touch the case to get your necklace so we can return to my home together.” He says as if what he suggested was completely normal for him.

You’re once again taken aback by his words, unsure if you heard him correctly or not, “I’m sorry?” You ask.

“We’re soulmates,” He explains, “It’s only natural for you to come live with me, so we can spend our days together.”

“We will not be going anywhere together!” You tell him. You step forward and grab him by the shoulders, turning him around so he faces his sarcophagus. You attempt to push him, “You will be staying here in your box, and you’re going to go back to sleep.”

Namjoon fights against your attempts, digging his feet into the hardwood floor beneath him. He scowls at the realization of what you’re trying to do, “Did you not hear what I said earlier? You are my destined lover. That’s how this is supposed to work!”

“And I told you that destiny isn’t real!” You argue, now using your shoulder to push all of your weight against him.

Namjoon turns to face you, causing you to lose your balance and fall forward. Namjoon grabs your arms before you can fall to the floor, using this opportunity to hold you close, “Is my life not enough proof for you?”

Dark brown eyes bore into your own, his sincerity written all over his features. You can tell he’s hurt, but you can’t help but continue to fight against him, “I don’t know! I’m still trying to process everything that’s happening right now!”

“As soon as we leave, I will explain everything to you in much greater detail.” He says, now offering a smile. However, leaving with him is the last thing you wish to do.

You push away from him and take a few steps back towards the exhibit's entrance, “We are not leaving.”

“I am a king, I have wealth beyond your wildest dreams! I can take care of you and it is my job to do so.” He reaches out and takes you by your wrist, “We’re going!”

“I don’t even know you!” You yell, pulling your arm away from him once more and stepping closer towards the exit behind you.

Namjoon looks annoyed, but he takes a deep breath before he continues to try and pursued you, “Why don’t you allow us to get to know each other then? At least tell me your name.”

“Just-” You pause, unsure of what you should even do. You take a few more steps back and he follows, “Stay there!” You demand, raising a finger to him. He does as told - whether he wishes to or not - and allows you to take a few more steps back until you catch sight of the gate in your peripherals. As long as he stays where he is, you could slip out without him, “Good.”

Namjoon, however, takes offense to you keeping your distance from him. This was no way to treat a king, especially ‘your’ king nonetheless, “Do not speak to me as if I am a child! I am a king, may I remind you.”

“You may. But may I also remind you that your rule ended over 1,000 years ago and you no longer hold any power.” You say, watching the frown on his features deepen into a scowl. With every minute that passes, his calm exterior continues to break, showing you his true nature. You take this moment of weakness against him and reach for his exhibit key on your belt, “I, however, am in charge of this museum after hours, so you have to listen to me.”

“I am a man-” He tries to argue, but you’re quick to shut his misogyny down.

“-And I am a woman,” You retort, thumbing through the labeled keys. Hoseok always made fun of you for trying to organize them, but it looks like the jokes on him. Not that he would really believe you if you told him.

“Your man card doesn’t work in this age, so try something else, your highness~” You tease.

Namjoon crosses his arms over his chest and glares, “You have quite the tongue when you’re not screaming.”

“Thank you, I get it from my grandmother. Now-” You slip through the crack you left in the gate and pull it close, pulling his key from it’s retractable clip and locking him in, “-go back to sleep.”

He blinks a few times before he moves towards you. He places his hands on the bars and pulls at them, but they don’t budge under him. His eyes widen in shock and he turns to you, “Did you just lock me in here?”

“I did.” You nod, smug smile and all.

“Unlock it. Now.” He demands, tightening his hold on the bars.

“Hm…” You pretend to contemplate his request, tapping a finger against your chin before you come to a fake decision, “No.”

“You insolent girl!” Namjoon yells, banging his fists against the gate that holds him.

You step back with wide eyes, stunned by his sudden outburst. You knew you were making him angry, but not this angry, “Wow, that’s one way to talk to your apparent soulmate.”

“I’ve been pleasant long enough! It’s time for you to accept the truth and let. Me. Out!” He demands.

You shake your head, “I don’t think I will.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” He huffs.

Staring at him through the bars, you take in his features. He’s angry, that much is clear. But there’s something else about him that just seems more hurt than anything. You don’t want to feel bad for him, but you have to give him credit where it’s due.

You release an exasperated sigh, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? This is probably hard for you and...a fever dream for me-” Fever dream is perhaps the most lax way to describe this experience, “-but I think your necklace chose the wrong person.”

Namjoon stiffens and he almost looks offended at your assumption, “The moon goddess is never wrong.”

“Well, this time she is,” You insist.

“So what do you expect me to do?” He asks.

You shrug, “I’d prefer it if you went back into your box.”

“You want me to live my life in a box? After I’ve already spent so much time in it?!” He asks.

“Yes! No...I-” You’re unsure of what to say. On one hand, you feel a bit guilty asking him to return to a box he’s spent 1,000 years in. He died once, believing that when he woke he’d be greeted by his one true love. Instead he woke up to you screaming at him.

But on the other hand, he was supposed to be dead.

You sigh, “I don’t know what I want, but I can’t deal with-...” You raise your hands, grasping at the air before gesturing to him, “-this.”

The king looks offended, but he holds his tongue. Instead he crosses his arms and straightens his posture, “Well, I will not be going back in that box.”

“Wha-?” You cut yourself off, in disbelief of this man’s stubbornness. You huff, “Then go find your palace or wherever you lived before!”

He shakes his head, “I won’t leave if you refuse to leave with me.”

“Then you better get used to your view, because this is all you’ll be seeing!” You state, finally having enough of him. You turn on your heel and begin to walk away, something you should have done when you first came up to the exhibit.

“You’ll come to realize that our intertwined fates will not go away just because you wish them to!” He calls after you, his voice echoing off the walls around you, “And then you’ll be crawling back to me!”

When you continue walking and refuse to answer him, he yells again, “At least let me explore!”

“Not happening!” You call over your shoulder.

“This is humiliating! You can’t do this!” You hear him rattling the gate again, but you pay him no mind. “Come back here, you insolent child!”

You bypass every other exhibit that you were supposed to check, instead rushing back to the safety of your office. Once you’re in you bolt the door behind you, just in case anything else in the building decided it needed to come to life as well. You drop yourself in your office chair and take a moment to yourself, giving yourself time to take in all of the events that just transpired.

The mummy from the new exhibit just came to life, you were somehow able to talk to him without passing out, he thinks you’re his soulmate, and now he’s upset with you because you locked him in his exhibit that he shouldn’t be freely roaming in.

You turn to your monitor and switch through feeds until you find Namjoon’s exhibit. He’s still standing by the closed gate, his hands slipped through the bars to try and fiddle with the lock. His posture that he once held with you is lacking, not as pristine as it was before. You can’t help but watch him with pity as his attempts to get out continue to fail.

But you can’t bring yourself to go back before the night ends.

30 minutes before the morning shift was due to come in, you use the intercom to tell Namjoon he’d have to return to his sarcophagus for the day. You couldn’t hear him, but you didn’t need a microphone to know he was not only confused but also very unhappy about that. You managed to convince him by informing him they would take him away to rot in a cell without you if he didn’t, and that seemed to kick him into gear.

Thankfully, he didn’t need your help making it back to his bed or putting the cover on top. You were not about to go down to his exhibit. Especially when the room itself looked completely untouched on the camera. The ropes that had been torn from the wall were back in their place as if nothing had ever happened, and the wrappings the King decided to discard were nowhere to be seen.

After that, you sat and waited for the morning shift to come and take over for you. You said good morning to all of your coworkers, and then you left. You went home and you went to bed, but waking again didn’t feel like a new experience. The looming feeling of knowing what awaits when you get to work again haunts you until your once again clearing the exhibits for the night.

You make it to the exhibit that has weighed you down for the past 12 hours and you hesitate to step inside. Clearing the room and locking it up will start the night, and then you’re left with the chances of seeing him again. Seeing him again means that everything you saw last night wasn’t a joke, and that you really have a living mummy in your museum.

What’s worse is he thinks you're his true love.

You come across Taehyung, once again sitting on the bench in front of the king’s sarcophagus. He wears a loose white button down and a pair of black dress pants, balancing a sketch pad on his thigh. He attempts to draw the exhibits main attraction with the altar that took weeks to create. If only he knew the object of his affections was alive and well only 15 feet away from him.

“Having fun there?” You ask, sitting next to the fashionable curator.

He takes a moment to answer, defining a line on his paper before he acknowledges you, “I always do when I’m here with Namjoon-hyung.” You roll your eyes at his use of ‘hyung’ and he chuckles. He turns his attention back to his paper, “Did you have a good rest of your night?”

You feel every bone in your body tense at the mention of the previous night. Last night was almost an out of body experience for you, and there was no real way to describe what you went through.

You shrug, “It was okay, same old same old.”

“That’s good! I’m glad you’re doing well here on your own at night.” He looks up from his shading and sets his pencil down, his expression becoming somber, “It must be hard without Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, it can be...” Working without Chanyeol really wasn’t any worse than working together. The only thing is now your new coworker is a 1,000 year old un-dead guy, but that’s a little much to explain, “But it’s fine! It really isn’t that strenuous on me at all.”

He smiles at your response and turns to look at his drawing, “I guess I’m holding you up aren’t I?”

You want to tell him more than anything that today you want him to stay just a little longer. Today is the day you want to hear all about every exhibit in the museum. More than anything, you just don’t want to face Namjoon alone, but no one would believe you if you told them the truth. So instead, you hum in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Once again, you watch him pack up and dance his way out of the exhibit. Only today you follow close behind, locking the king’s exhibit and rushing to the next - much more normal - exhibit.

---

It’s surreal to watch Namjoon through a screen. Sure, seeing him the other night was an experience, but to see that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you is another trip entirely! With Namjoon truly existing, that leads you to really question his claims. You did touch the necklace, but so had plenty of others. Not to mention, it took him almost 3 hours after you’d touched it to wake up, so who’s to say that Taehyung isn’t his true soulmate? Even Yoongi could be!

Anyone but you.

He’s much more different now that he’s ‘chilled out’ from last night’s events. He’s no longer pacing back and forth or banging on his exhibit’s gate - though he has tried to pull it open once or twice. Now, he just sits on the bench where you had sat with Taehyung, only he sits facing away from his final resting place.

He looks to be in deep thought, as if he’s contemplating something as he stares ahead of him. You like him better this way, calm and quiet instead of trying too hard to convince you to run away with him. This king you could babysit until he fell back asleep as he should’ve been in the first place.

With him seemingly content, you allow yourself to work on other things you’d normally do throughout the night. You mainly focus on the online coursework you didn’t get done due to the distraction on the screen in front of you, organizing your office in between assignments. You don’t really pay any mind to your cameras until you catch movement coming from Namjoon’s.

On the screen, he appears to be waving his arms and yelling, resembling those people you see on TV when someone gets injured. You can’t help but sigh. You’ve been putting off your rounds just so you wouldn’t have to go by his exhibit for him to accost you, now you didn’t have a choice but to go see what was troubling him before he broke something.

You grab your flashlight and tuck it into its place on your belt clip, leaving the safety of your office to see what his majesty so desperately needs from you. It must be desperate if he’s yelling for the entire city to hear. You quicken your pace to get there faster, hopefully before anybody besides you has the chance to hear his cries.

“Soulmate!” He yells, his voice clear as day as you reach level 3, “Come here! I demand your presence!”

“If you don’t stop yelling for everyone to hear you, then I’m going to turn around and leave you alone!” You yell back, assuming he hears you when the yelling doesn’t continue. You make it to the gate of his exhibit and find him waiting for you with his arms crossed, no longer as relaxed as he was when the night began.

“What?” You ask, stopping in front of him.

He doesn’t give you the pleasure of knowing right away. Instead, he looks you up and down with a hard glare, “You didn’t bring me food.”

“That’s what you’re yelling about?” You ask in disbelief.

Namjoon takes offense to your indifference, “Yes! For your information, I am very hungry for someone who hasn’t eaten in over 1,000 years.”

In hindsight, you’d most likely be a little angry too if you hadn’t eaten in so long as well - though it’s not really an excuse for his behavior last night. But explaining why an unconscious guy was chilling on the floor of a locked exhibit with security footage showing him coming out of the sarcophagus would not be fun for anyone involved.

“I’ll be right back.” You leave him to run back to the break room, grabbing the prepackaged lunch you had bought for yourself, a pair of disposable chopsticks, and a banana milk that you kept stashed behind Hoseok’s forgotten lunchbox before heading back up.

Namjoon gives you a strange look when you come back, his eyes trained on the box in your hand, “What is that?”

“It was my lunch, but you probably need this more than me.” You look for the key to his exhibit on your belt, sifting through until you find the right label and pull it up to unlock the gate. You pause before turning the lock, “Move back to the case.”

“Really?” Namjoon asks, his eyes narrowed in a glare. You return your own glare until he finally gives in and takes the steps back to the case as you asked him to, “Happy?”

You nod and turn the lock over, opening the gate and slipping inside with the food you brought for him. You hand him the lunchbox and the milk before you reach into your back pocket for the chopsticks, “Sorry if it’s not what you’re used to, but this is all I’ve got-”

“-There’s no need.” He raises a hand to stop you - an action that irks you to no end - and sits on the floor with the food you’ve given him. You watch as he struggles with the tape that holds it together, holding back your laughter when he manages to get it off the box and stuck to his fingers instead. He seems to relax when he rubs it off on the floor, but his next challenge comes when he opens the packet of chopsticks and there’s only one inside, “What this?!”

“I’m going to assume you’ve never seen this before.” You bend down to his level to take the chopsticks from him, holding each one and pulling them apart to create two, perfectly good chopsticks. You bite back a laugh when you see the amazement written across Namjoon’s face, “Pretty cool, yeah?”

“Very…” He says. You hand him the chopsticks, watching with amusement as he tries to fit them back together. One drops and he fumbles to catch it before he realizes you’re still watching him, quickly using the utensils to shove food in his mouth as a distraction.

“Here.” Not wanting him to embarrass himself further, you take his banana milk and open it for him, setting it beside him while he eats. He takes a moment to take a sip and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What is this?” He asks, holding the bottle close to his face to inspect the label.

You shrug, “It’s just banana milk.”

“Well, it tastes fantastic!” He tilts his head back and chugs the rest of it, wiping his mouth before turning back to you with the same expression of a puppy ready to play, “Is there more?”

“Uh…” You hesitate to answer, afraid he’ll try to boss you around again, “Yeah, we do.”

“Bring me-!” He stops when he sees your expression sour. Instead, he clears his throat and bows his head, “If you wouldn’t mind, could I please have another?”

“Sure thing.” You smile, and he smiles back. It wasn’t much, but it felt like an understanding after the fiasco that happened the night before.

So, you rush back while he continues eating, grabbing two more banana milks and a bag of chips for you to munch on yourself. When you come back, you’re not surprised to see that he’s finished his food and left the box laying on the floor with the empty milk container. You want to be upset with him for just leaving his trash lying around, but it’s hard to be mad at him when he’s trying so hard to work the kiosk.

“This infernal contraption doesn’t work!” He yells, hitting the top of it as if that would somehow make it work. Of course, he’s not the only person to try this - you’ve seen many middle aged men try to do the same thing when you close - but it would only prove to break if he didn’t dial it back.

“Don’t do that!” You rush to his side and push his hands away, blocking him from touching the kiosk any more. “You can’t just hit things and expect them to work. That’s not how people solve their problems.”

“Well, it doesn’t have a mouth, so how am I supposed to talk to it?” He questions.

“Okay…” You heave a sigh and grab the headphones that rest on the kiosk’s base, a pair for you and a pair for Namjoon. You place yours on your head and then move to place Namjoon’s over his ears. He flinches away from your touch and you pull back a bit, “It’s okay, I’m just going to show you how this works.”

He relaxes, bowing his head so you can place the headphones over his ears. Once they’re well adjusted, you tap the screen of the kiosk to bring it to life. You read through the options designed for the exhibit, choosing to let it read through information about Namjoon himself.

“The Kim Dynasty-” The woman’s voice fills both of your ears, scaring Namjoon so much that he jumps back and his headphones clang to the floor.

His scared expression is priceless, eyes wide and hands raised to defend himself. You laugh, picking up his headphones and extending them to him, “That’s supposed to happen.”

“How is it doing that? Is there a woman trapped in each of these?” He asks, eyeing the other kiosks that line the wall beside the one you share.

You shake your head, “It’s called a recording. They made a copy of her voice and put it in here so the people that come here can learn more about you.”

“Oh…” He accepts your answer and the headphones in your hand, “I see the moon goddess has been very busy.”

“Here.” You grab his hand and fix it so his pointer finger sticks out, guiding his hand so it presses lightly against the glass to select a different option. A new section of Namjoon’s life begins to play and Namjoon seems impressed by the ‘power’ he holds in one appendage. “This is called a touch-screen. You just have to tap the buttons on the screen and it’ll change.”

He nods, staring intently at the screen before him. He tilts his head and taps the little home button at the top left, surprised when the screen changes from a video to the screen it started on. He smiles, his dimples popping out as he chooses another option, “This is amazing!”

His smile is infectious, as well as his eagerness to learn more about the technology in front of him, “I’ll just leave you to play with that for a bit, I have a job to do.”

“Yes! Okay.” He waves you off, paying more attention to the kiosk than to you.

You lock the gate behind you when you leave, though it doesn’t seem like Namjoon even took notice of either action. Even after you rush through your duties to come back to him sooner, he’s still playing with the same kiosk with a child’s enthusiasm.

“You’re really enjoying yourself.” You muse, standing off to the side behind him.

Namjoon nods, his fingers still dancing across the screen, “This technology is amazing! If only we had this in my dynasty. I can only imagine the advantages we would have had.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, it definitely comes in handy. Though, a lot of people believe it’s made us weaker as a society.”

“I can see why. Everything I could ever want to know about myself is right here at my fingertips,” He says, scrolling through the different options he could look through. He comes across a picture of himself and grimaces, “I wish they would have used a different portrait.”

You chuckle in amusement, “Well, if you’re not having my trouble, then I‘m going to get back to my office.” You go to leave the room again when Namjoon grabs you by the arm.

“Wait!” He yells, pulling you back to him. It takes him a second to realize what he did before he let’s go, “Sorry!”

“It’s fine.” You mumble.

“I just-...” The king pauses, taking a moment to collect himself, “I wanted to know if I could look at more exhibits tomorrow?”

His eyes look down into yours, so hopeful for a good answer. You’re unsure, “I don’t know…” You want to say yes to him, but there’s so much at stake if you were to let him walk around on his own. Granted, he couldn’t trip the alarms, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break anything.

“I won’t touch anything, I swear!” He promises, both of his hands reaching out to take your own. He holds them to his chest, lightly cradling against the fabric of his shirt as he begs you, “I just don’t want to spend the rest of my time sitting in this room when there’s so much more around me.”

That gets you.

If there was one thing you could understand, it was being somewhere new with so much knowledge that you just had to know more. For someone like Namjoon, this was more than that. He had a whole world to try to come to terms with, and he was standing in the best place to do so. If you denied him that, then would you be able to deal with it?

“Tomorrow.” You say, “I’ll let you explore the museum tomorrow.”

Namjoon’s eyes light up and it looks like a weight is lifted right off of his shoulders. He doesn’t hesitate to bow to you, “Thank you, soulmate.”

“It’s not the whole museum!” You add quickly, “And my name is (Y/n).” He seems unhappy at first, but he does eventually nod to give his thanks where it was due. You give a polite bow back, “You’re welcome.”

The next night comes all too quickly for you. Leaving him alone to explore was more than nerve wracking. You were probably out of your mind for even considering letting him out on his own, let alone trusting him in the first place. Sitting in your office you’d check the camera’s every few minutes just to be sure he was still in the hall, or you’d pinpoint his last location and make your final round of the museum according to how he’d walk through the halls.

That first night, Namjoon only went through his exhibit and the rest of level 3. Occasionally you’d catch him playing with a water fountain on the camera’s in front of the bathroom. Another time you caught him turning towards a planter and you quickly changed screens, reminding yourself to open a bathroom for him for the next night.

As two more nights pass, you notice his want to get closer to the exhibits than to just sit on the outside. More often than not, you caught him with his face pressed against the metal bars trying to get a closer look at everything. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wanted to be in the room with the art itself, but a part of you is still worried to let him have that extra inch.

It’s only on the 5th night when Taehyung takes notice of your woes that you change your mind.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, leaning over himself on the bench to look at you. You sit with your hands in your lap just staring at Namjoon in front of you, wondering if you can really trust him to continue keeping his word. You don’t notice Taehyung, nor do you hear his question. He rolls his eyes and taps your knee twice, “Hey!”

“Huh?” You blink away your thoughts and turn your attention to him. Unaware of what he asked, you tilt your head in confusion, “What?”

Taehyung hums to himself and nods, “I’m right, something is wrong with you.”

“What do you mean something’s wrong with me?” You ask defensively.

Taehyung sighs and shows you his watch, showing you that it’s 5 minutes past weekday closing time, “This is the longest you’ve let me sit here rambling to myself. 10 minutes past our normal time!”

You shake your head, content to push him away, “I’m just a bit distracted, that’s all.”

“By what? Is it a work problem? Family troubles? You can tell me, I’ll listen!” He assures you.

You have no doubt in your mind that he will listen to you, but how do you explain your situation is the real problem at hand. There were only so many excuses in the world, and if you weren’t careful you might get yourself fired just for using a bad analogy.

You weigh your options and sigh, “My niece - she’s really little and way too rambunctious to come here - really wants to come and see the art on display. I want her to come see where I work because I know she likes the art, but I know my sister is worried about her breaking something or causing a scene.”

“Hmm...I see.” Taehyung hums, not showing any sign of suspicion against you. He really thinks about your ‘concern’ before he comes to a conclusion. “I think she should come and see.”

“Really?” You ask.

He nods, “Yeah! It’s best to let children experience art and it’s creativity for themselves! Even young children have an eye for art, and those who truly appreciate it only want to see it up close to see every detail.”

“I guess that does make sense…” Thinking about it, he does have a point. Namjoon may be from a different moment in time, but he’s still a grown adult.

Taehyung seems to sense your uncertainty and places a calming hand on your knee, “Art isn’t meant to be viewed from afar. It’s made to make us feel emotion.” He explains, “Even the most unlikely of patrons can find something that makes them appreciate art.”

Even after your talk is finished and you’ve left Namjoon’s exhibit unlocked for him to let himself out, you’re still debating your next course of action. There’s a big risk in letting him roam through the exhibits, but you can’t in good conscience let him sit around doing nothing forever.

You find Namjoon on level 4, his face pressed against the bars of the Apparel Through the Ages exhibit. You sneak up behind him and clear your throat, “Good evening, your highness.”

Namjoon stumbles back, not expecting you to be there. It’s amusing to watch him scramble into a more respectable position with his hands behind his back. He glances your way, “Have you come around already?”

“No, I haven’t,” You say. You pull at the keys on your belt and jingle them, “I’ve come to open an exhibit for you.”

“What?” He’s surprised, “Will you really?”

“Someone told me that those who appreciate art want to take in all the details they can.” It didn’t take a genius to see that Namjoon wants to see more than he can see at the exhibit’s gates. An old soul like his could probably use some new perspective, “You choose the exhibit and I’ll unlock it.”

“Any of them?” He asks.

You nod, “Just lead the way.”

The light in his eyes that you saw the night before comes back and it relaxes you for some reason. Even as he takes your wrist to lead you down the hall to the exhibit he wants to see, it’s as if he’s two different people. It’s almost confusing how quickly his demeanor changes with you. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he becomes a child. Yet the moment you offer something new - something for him to learn about - it’s as if he’s just a child at heart.

When you open the Animal Kingdom exhibit on level 2 for him you’re thrown for another loop. He only gives you a simple thanks and walks away, leaving you to question if he’s just inherently an asshole or if he’s just petty. Even as you come back around from your rounds to close up for the night, he still seems to flip back and forth with his own personality and his thanks.

You go home that morning confused and on a mission. You throw the notion of sleep out the window and settle onto your couch with a cup of coffee and your laptop, determined to know more about this so-called King that intends to ruin your life little by little.

A simple Google search brings you many results, ranging in portraits and newspaper articles to biographies written by renowned historians. You click on the first link available, taking you to a page drowning in photos and art. It would seem that even in life, Namjoon enjoyed surrounding himself with art.

His portraits were absolutely breathtaking - you could understand his disappointment now that you’ve seen more than just the one - and the pictures they showcase of his palace are surrounded in flowers and gorgeous statement pieces littered across the grounds. It’s surprising to read that they’ve remained there for so long without any disturbances. You would have thought they’d taken one or two lawn pieces like they had taken Namjoon, yet they remain in their home without any signs of distress to them.

You take another long sip of coffee and move onto another page, checking out a more informative website. This one goes into detail about his life as a prince and as a king. You discover that he became king at the young age of 17 when his parents sadly passed away during an ambush to the throne. Apparently, he changed over half of the Kingdom’s laws the very next day and saw to every change in policy himself. It only took him 3 months to get the people of his kingdom to trust in him and his guidance, which - according to the article - was a big feat for his time.

You’re surprised to read about his contributions to his people. He strongly encouraged his people to progress forward and bring him their concerns, he housed over 30 children in his home at one time because they had no homes to go to and he even had a sort of sanctuary for animals to be cared for under his watch. He oversaw their historians writing, ensuring that they put every detail on paper. Even his failures were written down under his careful eye, despite his power to erase them from future generations

This Namjoon was so kind and caring. He was so well educated and well-spoken, and he was loved by all of his people for his generosity and understanding nature. How is it that a man who was known for being so kind, could be the same man who bossed you around and demanded that you spend the rest of your life with him?

How is it that a guy who sounds so sweet on paper can be a total dick in real life?

* * *

After hours of research with no sleep and a cold shower to wake you up, you find yourself standing in front of Namjoon with a copy of The Little Prince tucked on top of the food you’ve brought him for the night.

Namjoon accepts the food, taking the boxed lunch with one hand so he can pick up the book with the other. He inspects it carefully, flipping it over a few times to look it over, “What’s this?”

“I did a little research on you, your highness. According to historians and the internet, you were quite the avid reader.” You’d read a lot about Namjoon, and every website you visited gave you list upon list of books read by him when he was still alive and well. They all spoke of his fascination for fantasy novels and those with deeper meanings behind them. The Little Prince seemed like a no brainer to you when it came to more relevant novels to fit his tastes. “I figured you might get bored sooner or later, so I brought you something to pass the time until you fall asleep again.”

“You know that’s not how the enchantment works, yes?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment before you reply, “No, I don’t know that. Do you?”

“I-” Namjoon is at a loss for your teasing words. Instead he frowns and turns his nose,“It doesn’t matter if I’ve seen it happen! I trust the moon goddess!”

“Mhmm, whatever you say~” You laugh, much to his annoyance. Namjoon sits down to eat his food and you take that as a sign for you to continue doing your job, “Enjoy your book and your food.”

You go to leave, but the king calls after you, “Can’t you stay here? Keep me company?”

You pause. His company wasn’t terrible, but you don’t want to stay and risk giving him a sense of false hope. He was still over 1,000 years old, and you were still a broke college student trying to pay her way through life. You’ve never been the type to play with someone’s emotions, and you weren’t going to start now.

“That’s not in my job description.” You say. You almost regret your choice when you see his sad expression, but you steel yourself, “Have a good night.”

You leave him, not coming back until you’re making a lap on your rounds. And there - sitting against one of the large display cases - sits Namjoon with the book held loosely in his hands, his face holding a look of pure concentration and a ghost of a smile. He looks so peaceful and content sitting cross-legged on the hard wood of his exhibit, you almost feel bad for asking him to return to his sarcophagus. But that night he goes willingly.

And you can’t help but notice the glow of the necklace on your way out.

---

“Hey-!” You turn your head away from the water fountain, hearing Jimin’s voice call down the already noisy hall. You spy him at the entrance of the gift shop, but his attention is on a girl passing by who’s turned to look at him as well. He holds a box in his hand, but you can’t see what’s inside from where you stand. “Have you seen our new merchandise that just came in?”

“Uh...no, I haven’t.” The girl seems slightly uncomfortable. Either from his approach from the gift shop for her to buy something, or just from a guy who looks like Jimin approaching her - you don’t know which.

You walk closer to the gift shop, curious yourself about the mystery box in Jimin’s hands.

“This - my lovely lady - is our newest piece of jewelry.” He opens the box and you catch a glimmer of silver and fuschia, “The necklace of King Kim Namjoon’s lost lover.”

Her face lights up initially when she sees it, but then her face drops and she shakes her head, “Oh, no, thank you.”

“You don’t want to buy it?” He asks. Jimin pouts and you can feel the immediate distress coming off the poor girl he’s talking to.

“It’s pretty, but it’s a little expensive…” She tries to explain her situation - whether it’s true or not - but Jimin is relentless.

He looks around the hall to make sure no one is too close to listen - all but you anyways - and gets closer to her, “But don’t you know the legend behind the necklace?”

“Of course I do! King Kim Namjoon’s soulmate is supposed to wear this necklace.” She says.

“Yes, but that’s not all!” Jimin makes a point of string into her eyes, unwilling to break their eye contact, “Legend says he prayed to the moon goddess herself to find his true love and she gifted him with her own special moonstone to guide his other half to him!”

He moves closer, so that the two are almost shoulder to shoulder just so he can give her a closer view of the product, “These pink stones are pieces of the King’s soulmate's heart, and they’ll glow brightest when his lover wears his necklace by his side!”

“Wow...that’s so romantic.” You can see her resolve breaking, and you almost feel bad for her that Jimin is the clerk on duty today.

“Do you want to know the best part?” He asks, his smile reaching his cheeks and his eyes full of mischief that resemble love almost too closely. She nods enthusiastically and Jimin brings the box closer so she can see, “This gold string that holds it altogether represents their connection to each other. It’s a bond that can’t be broken by anything in the universe.”

He carelessly throws an arm over her shoulder, just light enough to be seen as friendly. Though, it would seem the small trick is already working it’s magic on the poor thing. He squeezes her shoulder, “A lot of people believe that wearing this necklace will bring you closer to finding your own true love, so they package them with their own prayers to the moon goddess in hopes she’ll grant them eternal love as well.”

“Really?!” She asks. She looks to him as if he holds the whole universe in his hands, having been swayed by the blonde’s charm.

“Yeah!”

Just like that, you watch him lead her back to the counter and then wave her and her new treasure goodbye, holding a sticky note close to his heart.

“Should you really be lying like that?”You ask from the store’s entrance. You’re more than disappointed to see yet another girl fall for the man’s charms

Jimin shrugs, “I didn’t lie. I just stretched the truth.”

You walk up to the counter and snatch the note out of his hand, “Stretching the truth sounds a lot like lying.”

“Don’t you have a monitor to watch somewhere?” He teases. You hand him the paper back and he sticks it in his pocket, bending below the counter to grab another.

You can’t help but think about what he said, and the legend behind the real necklace. You’ve heard a lot about the real thing, but all of it usually went in one ear and out the other as myth for you. Now that you know it’s real and far from a hoax, you have so much more that you need to know.

Jimin pops back up with a stack of necklaces in his arms and sets them on the counter in front of you, pulling out a sheet of tags that go with them. You take the sheet from his hand and peel one off, handing it to him, “Can I ask you a question? About the necklace?”

“Sure, but Taehyung is the expert around here.” He says, accepting your sticker to place on the box in front of him.

“You think I don’t know that?” You laugh. You look down and peel off another one, “Is all of what you said about the necklace itself true? About the real necklace?”

“According to Taehyung it is!” He nods, not even sparing you a glance, “The moon goddess gave the King a necklace so powerful that only he and his lover could tear the bond if they chose to, but they never got the chance to meet.”

You hand him another sticker, but you stare into space as you do, “That’s...really sad.” You can’t help but think of the pain Namjoon had to go through knowing his soulmate would be by his side, but not knowing it wouldn’t be in his first lifetime. Not only that, but to wake up and then be met with someone who doesn’t even want to be his soulmate? You can’t help but think about how you’d act towards him if the roles were reversed and he were in your shoes.

You’d be devastated.

“It is.” He takes the sticker from you with one hand and flicks your forehead with the other. You flinch and pull back with your hand rubbing the spot he hit while he just smirks at you, “You would know if you ever listened to Taehyung.”

“Yeah.�� You don’t even register your response before handing the sticker sheet back to Jimin and pushing off the counter, “Thanks Jimin! Have a good night, okay? Don’t call me at 2am like last week.”

“No promises~” He sings, going back to his work in front of him.

Later that night when you’re handing Namjoon his dinner, you sit with him to eat yours as well. The look Namjoon gives you as you calmly open your dinner across from him is almost too good to ignore.

“What are you doing?” He asks, slowly unboxing his own lunch.

You pay him no mind as you break apart your chopsticks to start eating, “You wanted me to keep you company, remember? Or is my presence no longer appreciated?” You pick up a clump of rice and turn your attention to him, eyebrow raised.

Namjoon is quick to shake his head and get started on his own food, “Of course it is!”

You both eat in awkward silence, neither of you quite sure how to start a normal conversation. You’ve only ever made polite talk with him, and he only ever seemed to anger you no matter what he said. The only time you were ever civil was when you would show him something new.

Namjoon swallows his food and clears his throat, “Where would you like me to escort you tonight, my lady?”

You shake your head, “First of all, don’t call me ‘your lady’ or anything else other than my name.” You warn him, pointing at the tag on your jacket. He nods and you continue with your rant, “Second, I have some rounds to do, so you can join me tonight as long as you don’t bother me too much. Understood?”

“Yes, my la-” You narrow your eyes at him and he corrects himself, “(Y/n).”

The two of you finish your food quickly with some small talk made here and there. When you’ve cleaned up, you allow Namjoon to lead you to another exhibit he’s yet to see. All the way on level 1, he wants to see art he’s more familiar with.

“So, you said you asked the moon goddess for a chance to meet your soulmate?” You ask one you’re inside the museum.

“Indeed,” Namjoon nods, listening to you as he takes in the art around him, “I prayed to her one night on a full moon and I begged her to send me a lover. Someone I could confide in and care for, and would do the same for me.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “And instead she gave you the necklace?”

“No, she gave you a way to find me.” He says, a genuine look of happiness on his face.

“Still-“ You feel a heat rising in your face and you can’t help but turn away from him out of embarrassment. Your eyes land on a painting of a couple and you feel the knife dig just a little deeper, “-you asked her for someone to rule by your side as your equal and she let fate tear you apart.”

He shrugs, “Maybe we weren’t meant to meet before now.”

His calm exterior bothers you. If you had asked for what he had, you’d be livid! He made a promise and that promise was misguided!

“How can you be so calm?” You ask, allowing your thoughts to be heard.

Namjoon stops to look at a picture of a cherry blossom in the winter, it’s petals covered in frost. He smiles, “You said you read about me from one of your current books. The internet? What do they tell you of me?”

You chuckle at his misunderstanding of what the internet truly is, “Well, the internet told me that you were a very generous and beloved king. They said you were intelligent and caring.”

He chuckles, “I’m flattered.” He looks to you with an amused smile and you elbow his side carefully, causing him to laugh, “I’m only joking!”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, sure.”

Moving on to the next painting, he follows after you, “What else did your book tell you?”

“Well, it told me about your love for the arts.” You remember the extensive biography you’d found during your research. You didn’t read it in its entirety, but you did skim through it, “I read that you would host a festival every year?”

“Yes! Just something special during the summer seasons to enlighten everyone.” He has a far away look in his eye as he recalls the fond memories of his past life, and you can only begin to wonder what a day in his life would have been like, “I’d import goods from everywhere just to have the best for my people.”

“It would seem you’re truly generous, your majesty~” You tease.

“Namjoon.” He corrects you. You give him a quizzical stare and he only smiles in return, “If I’m to call you by your more common title, then you should feel free to use mine. I am attempting to woo you after all.”

“Right.” You smile awkwardly, remembering that you were actually trying to give him a chance. You’d actually been comfortable for once, that you hadn’t even noticed just how easy it had become to talk to him.

“And to really answer your question of why I am as calm as I am,” He pauses in front of a portrait of a town under the night sky, his attention trained on the light orb in the background of the painting. “The moon goddess is lonely herself by nature, so separated from our world. Just like this portrait, we see her, but we pay her no mind.”

You stand beside him and take your own, clear look at the picture. If you would have looked at it on your own, your main focus would have been on the town and the people in the foreground. You would have glanced at the moon, but the orb and her stars were painted so faint compared to the rest of the picture.

“She came to me - and perhaps it was out of boredom for her own happiness - but she made me a promise. Promises are something I don’t take lightly.” He says. His words are spoken like a true king, but you can’t help but wonder if he himself truly means what he says.

Namjoon turns to you with a peaceful smile, “Fate works in mysterious ways, and sometimes it’s best for us to wait and see what it brings.”

He’s ready to move on and you both bask in a new found silence as you continue to walk through the exhibit, stopping occasionally at a portrait here and there. Though at every painting you stop, you can’t help but look at the man next to you.

This was the man described in everything you read. This was King Kim Namjoon at his finest, and you were privileged enough to be there.

“Did you really house orphaned children?” You ask out of the blue.

He blinks at first, registering your sudden outburst. Though, when he does realize what you’ve asked, he smiles fondly, “I did. Of all the people we should take care of, our children and our elderly are most important!”

His words are filled with passion, and you can tell he really cares about the people he’s talking about, “Our elders have shaped our generation, and we shape the generations after us. It’s only fair that we see they’re well taken care of.”

There’s a part of you that truly wishes to see what he was like as a ruler for yourself. You smile, “Well, I guess the internet doesn’t lie.”

“I suppose it doesn’t, though I’m probably not the correct person to ask.” He sheepishly admits, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

You nod in understanding. He really didn’t know much about this era or it’s advancements besides the kiosks in his exhibit. It takes you a moment, but you think of the perfect exhibit to introduce him to the 21st century.

You take his hand in yours - effectively catching him off guard - and you pull him in the direction of the exit, “Well, allow me to educate you about the world I live in.”

Namjoon doesn’t even attempt to hide his blush this time around. He only nods and allows himself to follow you, “Please.”

You lead him out of the more classic featured art section and into the Modern Art Exhibit. This exhibit starts very tame, sticking to photography and modern painting styles before it morphs into free form art sculptures in the connecting rooms.

One sculpture is made of metal and it’s shape reminds you of a round mushroom. It's definitely interesting, but you don’t necessarily understand it’s appeal. It would seem Namjoon is confused as well.

“This is art?” He asks, his head tilted to the side as he follows his distorted reflection.

“It is.” You assure him. You had a feeling he wouldn’t get it either, you just wanted to show him what he was missing. You sigh, “I don’t really understand it either so don’t fe-”

“It’s so intriguing.” Namjoon says, cutting you off.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, slightly confused.

“The structure and the colors, they’re so complimentary to the other! I don’t want to look away.” His entire being is completely enraptured with the piece in front of him. It’s so simple, yet his eye contact doesn’t break from his reflection. “I feel as though I am in a trance.”

You squeeze his hand - not even caring that your hands are still connected, “Well, there’s much more of this to see.”

A look of pure joy and elation blossoms on Namjoon’s face and you feel a faint flutter in your heart. You’d never noticed how bright his eyes shine until now, nor did you notice just how cute his dimples really were.

Are you really falling for him?

~ Read: Part 2 ~

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paigiepixels · 4 years ago

Text

I Bet on Losing Dogs - Lip Gallagher x Reader

You + Me - The Prince of the South Side, Lip Gallagher, falls in love with his best friend. This is their happy ever after. Chapter title is based on Mitski’s I Bet on Losing Dogs.

previous chapter ● also on wattpad

++++++++++

“I feel really shitty about earlier,” Lip mumbled into my hair as we walked to his dorm.

“Don’t worry,” I shook my head, “I’ve all but forgotten about it, honestly. Watching someone get interrogated on drug charges will do that to you, I guess.”

“Please, stay tonight?” he asked as we reached his building.

A tiny chuckle left my lips, “Why the hell did you think I left the car? Your campus isn’t in the safest neighborhood but I know you can defend yourself, you don’t need me and my pepper spray walking you to your door like it’s the 1950’s and we just shared a milkshake at the diner.”

He opened the door for me as he shook his head. “Okay, okay.”

“What’s next, are you gonna wear my letterman jacket? Want me to take you to the point overlooking a small suburban town to make out in my dad’s car? Can I grope your A-cups over your cheerleading uniform while we kiss with no tongue? What’s that sound outside? Could it be an escapee from the local prison that lost his hand in that accident where they replaced it with a hook?”

“Alright, you got that out of your system yet or are you still workshopping your tight five?” Lip threw an arm around me in as the elevator doors closed.

“I could go a little longer.” I shrugged. “Baby boomers paid twelve dollars for their houses then ruined the economy for the rest of us, they deserve to be made fun of.” Lip just shook his head as he unlocked his dorm door.

I shrugged out of the large shirt I slipped on earlier that evening and shimmied out of my leggings.

“You know,” Lip eyed me up and down like I was a bottle of water in the middle of the desert, “it’s been well over twenty-four hours since we last had sex.” He quickly undressed.

Placing my hands on my hips, I played along, “Hm, I guess it has been.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and made his way over, placing his hands over mine. “Maybe we should, I don’t know, have some sex?”

“The beast with two backs?” I countered.

“Take a trip to pound town?”

“Butter my biscuit.”

“Mmmm, exactly,” he mumbled with a lick to his lips as he leaned into towards me.

I gripped my fingers into his curls and let his tongue explore the confines of my mouth while I leaned back onto the bed. One of Lip’s arms groped my ass while the other steadied him on the mattress. I pretzeled my legs around his waist, his mouth wandered from my own, to my neck, down to my décolletage and breasts, placing kisses along every inch he could. I mumbled some profanities as he slipped a hand under me to unhook my bra, I toed at his boxers, giving him the hint to even the playfield. Rapidly, he took off whatever remainders of clothes we both had on and reached into the nightstand for a condom. Before I knew it I was practically impaled by him, a gasp getting stuck in the very back of my throat. My eyes squeezed shut and my hands grasped at the skin on his back, surely leaving marks and scratches from my nails. The pace was steady tonight, not too fast nor too slow. He rocked back and forth into me in long, firm thrusts, satisfying his need to just be close to me.

I could tell by his mood tonight that this wasn’t just to get off, this was emotional, it was coming from somewhere deep down within him. Not like I could blame him, it’s been a rough few weeks. The way he buried his head into the crook of my neck, nuzzling into my hair and taking a long whiff. Sex was always personal for us, even a quickie with little to no eye contact was filled with emotion, but times like this were different, like everyone else on the planet had disappeared and the only reason we were still breathing was to have another second to be together.

Lip was hastily becoming undone, his breaths becoming sharper. He rubbed my clit with gentle force as I squeezed my eyes shut, he was trying to get us off at the same time. I bit my lower lip with a sharp canine and curled my toes as the dopamine exploded in my brain. He groaned and shuddered before collapsing onto me, placing kisses on my exposed neck.

“Fuck,” he mumbled while rolling over and removing the condom with a snap.

“When was the last time we went that long without fucking?” I wondered out loud.

“Can’t remember, my brain is goo,” he chuckled.

++++++++++

I saw a half-naked Lip, town slung around his hips, walking down the hallway from the opposite end as I reached his door. A tall man in a hoodie was behind him, it took me a few seconds to realize it was Kevin.

“Hey, you two,” I shifted onto the balls of my feet as Lip unlocked his room.

“Uh, hi,” Lip said, tugging the towel around his waist a little tighter. Kev followed him inside, I blinked twice, wondering why he was here. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to take you to Carl’s court thing, what is he doing here? Kev?”

“Uh, just crashing in an empty dorm while V stays at the house with the girls.”

“Huh,” I nodded. “No comment, I guess.”

“What about V?” Lip asked as he walked around the room getting ready.

“What about V?” Kev repeated. “I can’t think about that right now. She’s doing her thing, I’m doing my thing, it was her decision.”

I dropped my bag onto Lip’s unmade bed and sat next to it. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to give it another shot? You have kids, you’ve gotta at least try to work it out.”

Kev sighed and leaned his head against the wall, “I don’t know anymore, V was the one who started this whole mess and now she’s stopped talking to me about anything that isn’t baby.” His sentence stopped when he answered his ringing phone. “Well, duty calls. Rape Walker, at your service.”

I pursed my lips and widened my eyes at Lip, who mouthed Long story.

“I was gonna just take the L, you know,” Lip said as we walked hand-in-hand to the parking lot.

My shoulders shrugged, “I don’t mind taking you, I want to be there for Carl and Fiona. Mostly Fiona,” I chucked. “She’s gonna need it.”

“Can you actually imagine Carl getting in front of a judge and not incriminating himself for like, fourteen things he did this morning alone?”

“Your Honor,” I imitated the young teenager by putting on a lazy voice, “I swear the bailiff stuck that joint in my mouth before I got in here. That’s not mine-” I was stopped in my tracks by getting walked into by what felt like a brick wall wrapped in wool.

“I’m sorry-” Her face changed from an indifferent position when she looked up from the Blackberry in her hands. “Phillip, I’m sorry, I wasn’t quite looking where I was going,” she tucked her cellphone into the pocket of her expensive-looking jacket. “Have you spoken with Mr. Lorenzo from Financial Aid yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” Lip replied before gesturing at me with his free hand. “Professor Runyon, this is my girlfriend y/n. Professor Runyon teaches Critical Theory.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reached out and was met by a cashmere-covered hand to shake while staring at her striking face.

“Likewise,” her hand lingered after the shake, I pulled away. “Well, I have a class to get to, very nice to meet you, y/n. Phillip,” she nodded and continued to walk in the direction we were coming from.

“She seems nice, if not overly-perfumed,” I shrugged.

“Yeah, she hit on me yesterday,” Lip sighed as he grasped a hand firmly around my waist and ushered me to my car as quickly as possible.

“What?!”

“So, you’re dropping that class, right?” I all-but stated as we got in the car.

Lip shook his head, “I can’t. It’s the only one left and I need a full load.”

I squinted at him, “I don’t know, I’d say you were already full of something if you asked me.”

He blinked before replying, “I can’t compete with that, it’s a good one.”

Resting my forehead on the steering wheel, “I don’t want to be this demanding, controlling girlfriend. You know I hate that. I trust you, but,” I picked my head up and took a breath, Lip pushed a strewn hair off of my face, “I don’t trust other people. It’s a lot for me.”

“Hey, look at me…” he grasped my face between his hands as much as he could with the console between us. “Trust me, only me. That’s all there is to it. Believe me, I won’t do anything for you to worry about, ever. Alright?” I nodded. “Nope, not good enough for me. Gotta hear you say it.”

“Alright.”

“Okay, good.” He pulled my face closer with his hands still holding on and kissed the top of my head for at least a three-count. “Now, let’s get going to this damn hearing already.”

++++++++++

We shuffled into the small courtroom and into stiff chairs with itchy upholstery. I settled in with Lip on my left, he leaned in towards V and muttered, “V, this thing with you and Kev, is it temporary?”

“What did he say when you asked him?”

“Uh, nothing,” Lip broke eye contact and looked towards the ground, feigning innocence and ending the conversation.

“All rise,” the bailiff announced. “The Circuit Court of Cook County is now in session. The honorable Judge Rita Gaither is presiding.”

Chuckie was up first, Sammi was sitting in the front row with bruises littering her face. His lawyer’s defense was that Chuckie is of barely functioning intellect, it was a miracle he could wipe his ass, et cetera. Of course, Sammi stood up and testified towards her son, calling Lip’s family “a den of wolves.”

I hardly recognized Carl when he came in after Chuckie’s sentencing. Fiona had dressed him to play the part - an old button-up of Lip’s, hand-me-down khakis, all topped off with a neatly combed head of hair and glasses from Patsy’s lost and found.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s an upstanding young man,” Lip whispered.

V leaned in, resting her chin on a well-manicured hand, “Just like Ted Bundy.”

“Do you regret what you’ve done, Carl?”

“I did something really dumb that I shouldn’t have.” Fiona nodded along with his answer. “I trusted a fucking retard with a man’s job.” Uh oh. “Next time I move a bunch of drugs, I’ll be smarter.”

“If you want to go into my chambers and speak to me off the record, now is the time. Otherwise, you will end up in juvenile prison. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please.” I could practically see the explosion going on inside Fiona’s head.

The judge sighed, “That’s not what I was hoping to hear.”

“I know what you were hoping to hear. If Your Honor would lose 20 pounds, I would consider tapping that.” Lip laughed into his shoulder, trying to hide his amusement.

“I think I've heard enough. I sentence you to the maximum of one year at the Illinois Department of Corrections Juvenile Justice Division. You're remanded to the custody of the Sheriff. This court is in recess.”

Fiona grabbed Carl by the arm and asked him what he was thinking, he was excited to go. It didn’t surprise me.

Once we left the building Ian and Lip separated from the group to go smoke, I caught up with them after a quick chat with V about her twins.

“How’s it hanging, boys?” I asked while stuffing my hands into my coat pockets to warm them up.

“Nothing, just bullshitting,” Lip grunted as he stood up from his crouching position next to Ian. He handed me the cigarette he was smoking to share. As I was mumbling a thanks Ian got off the bench and walked away without as much as a goodbye.

“The fuck’s his problem?” I asked, handing the cigarette back.

“He went to the clinic, he’s upset about the medication.”

“Of course he is,” I spat and Lip replied with a confused look. “You think I like taking birth control every day? No! But like clockwork, every morning, I open that little plastic round thingy and pop one, just so you can jizz inside of me.” I patted him on the shoulder for comfort. “Plus I got my anti-depressants and anti-anxieties, but those aren’t as annoying as taking a pill every day purely for sex purposes.”

“Wow, thank you for your sacrifice,” his voice was dripping in sarcasm.

I stole the cigarette back from him and replied after a puff, “You’re damn welcome.”

++++++++++

I was reading on the small bed in Lip’s dorm when he came back from class, resting in just a large t-shirt and my underpants.

“Hey,” he flung his backpack onto the floor. I didn’t bother looking up from my book while I mumbled a greeting back. “You want a beer?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I replied.

Lip made his way over to the mini-fridge and opened it. “Uh, you stock my fridge?”

“Yeah, I got a couple of things while you were in class. Folded your clean laundry, too.”

After grabbing a beer Lip closed the fridge and sat down on the side of the bed. “Hey,” he placed a hand on my bare leg, I almost recoiled, his hand was freezing from being outside. “You don’t have to keep taking me places and getting me stuff.”

I placed my open book down on my chest, “What?”

“I know you’re going through stuff, you don’t have to be spending so much time doin’ shit for me.”

“Well, I like doing stuff for you, okay? It makes me feel like I’m doing something good.”

“Like we’re charity?”

I groaned and sat up onto my knees, “No, like, I love you, and I love your family, and helping you guys, like, makes me feel like I have a purpose. Like I’m part of the big family I always wanted.”

“…You’ve always been part of our family.”

“Do you not like it anymore when I do things for you?” I asked with a raised brow.

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I love that you love my family, but I’m just saying, even if you didn’t do these things, everyone would still love you. You don’t have to buy your way in.”

“Oh, I never bought my way in,” I chuckled, “I sucked my way in, s’more like it.”

Lip rolled his eyes at my corny joke, “You’re so dumb sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, pulling on the hem of his shirt. “Now get into bed and show me just how much you appreciate me buying you groceries and changing your sheets.”

++++++++++

Wattpad (where the entire story is posted)

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#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #shameless imagines #lip gallagher imagines #lip gallagher imagine #shameless imagine #you and me #you and me chapters

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

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The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 6

Summary: Henry has some things to think about, especially after his agent Richard calls him

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 4k

Warnings: None

A/N: So it has been quite awhile since I updated this fic. Thank you for bearing with me! This chapter might not be the best, so I’m sorry in advance. But writing has been a pretty hard process for a few weeks. I can write a few important parts in a chapter, but it’s not a coherent story itself. It still needs tons of filler. However, I’m slowly but surely getting back into it! Also, I have reached 350 followers (353 to be exact) and I’m doing a little celebration, you can read about it here!

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Henry really needs to think this through.

He meant every single word that he said yesterday to Adelaide, he truly does. He is falling in love with her and he is falling way too hard, he is aware of that. He doesn’t even care about the stupid part of the show anymore, he just wants to get to know her and be around her. Right now and even after the show, with her is where he wants to be.

However, he also meant the other thing he said to her: she can go home if she feels like that’s for the best. However, deep down he doesn’t want her to go. Not yet at least.

That entire afternoon they had spend kissing, like they were two teenagers afraid of getting caught. By the time they had to go home, it was hard for him to focus and bounce back to their routine they had before their first kiss.

Should or shouldn’t he wrap his arm around her shoulders, push that strand of hair out of her face or use his thumb to wipe away the bits of food of her cheek?

During the night however, those doubts disappeared like snow in the sun. The whole world would see how they slept after the haunted house incident, why stop now? While Adelaide was asleep, he would just stare at her, without her looking away as she would turn into a blushing mess.

He never expected her to be like the pro she is, but then he realizes: while she has never been in a relationship before, this woman is the queen of romantic comedies and the one that she starred in, all portrayed healthy relationships, compared to other movies. She knows what she deserves and while that is more than he can offer, he can always try.

Adelaide Park stole his heart and from the looks of it, she has no intentions on ever giving it back.

Not that he minds at all.

Over the course of the next few days, they do some challenges and somehow they manage to do pretty okay. For the YouTube page of the Celebrity Project, they even did a segment on how to cook some Korean dishes and the comments underneath were all about one thing.

Their chemistry.

He admits, there is a lot of chemistry between them and it may or may not have been multiplied ever since their kiss. During the cooking segment, he kept messing up, causing Adelaide to simply shake her head, before wrapping her fingers around his arm, placing the side of her head on his bicep. She would softy reassure him, something that not only warmed his heart, but also the hearts of the fans.

While they are second place now (the Biebers are behind them and Charlie and Jennifer are way ahead of them), they are the fan favorites and Adelaide continues to impress everyone watching.

Tomorrow they are going on a camping trip, as part of their final challenge. After that, it’ll all be over. No more camera’s, no more stupid challenges (meaning never eating fried tarantulas anymore) and it’s only him and her together, getting to know one another on an even deeper level. He even thought about maybe auditioning for her upcoming romantic comedy. Playing alongside her, that’s all he wants.

It is hard for Henry, not to kiss her every time he gets the chance. He looks at her as she is making breakfast for them, but the ringing of his phone disturbs their little moment. He sees it’s his agent Richard and he places his hand on the small of her back. ‘You need me for something?’ he asks her.

She looks up and shakes her head. ‘No, please, take it,’ she says. ‘I can manage.’ He earns himself a beautiful smile from Adelaide.

After he excused himself, he walks outside, away from the camera’s. ‘Yes, what do you want?’

‘You are not responding to my texts,’ Richard informs him of the obvious.

He sighs. ‘I have been busy.’

‘With Adelaide.’ He tries to formulate as a question, but his agent fails miserably.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Henry asks him annoyed. He really hasn’t got time for this, especially not when he can make breakfast with Adelaide, as part of their morning routine. He loves these little moments and their cottage has become such an important spot for them.

‘You’re losing, Henry. You know what that means, right?’ The asshole answers his own rhetorical question. ‘You’re not getting James Bond.’

He doesn’t care about James Bond anymore. He doesn’t even want to portray James Bond anymore. But he doesn’t want to come across as a simp. ‘We’re not too far behind,’ he says. ‘I’ll get her to man up, so we can win this.’ Like a dagger goes straight through his heart as he says that. He doesn’t want Adelaide to man up. He wants her to stay exactly the way she is.

‘Are you sure?’ Richard asks and he can even hear the cockiness and arrogance in his agent’s voice. The second Henry gets back, he is going to switch from agency. He hates Richard. ‘Because from the looks of it, she is continuing dragging you down.’

That is not the fucking case. ‘We’ll manage,’ Henry hisses through clenched jaws.

‘And I never knew you were such a good actor. I almost believe you actually care about her.’

‘Maybe after this I’ll get even more jobs.’ Henry doesn’t mean it and even saying it out loud, pains him, however, it left his lips before he could even think about it and that’s what worries him. Does he mean it deep down?

He looks over his shoulder, to see Adelaide placing everything on the table outside. He can’t possibly mean it, right? ‘I’ve got to go.’ Without waiting for Richard to answer, he hangs up and marches up to the table.

This idiot is making him furious from the inside, completely ruining his excellent mood. The only thing he wants is to spend his day with Adelaide, without distractions.

While he was fuming of anger a few seconds ago, all his annoyance disappears as he approaches her. ‘Just in time,’ she says with a genuine smile, that makes him regret all the things he said to Richard.

Normally he would sit across from her, but today he sits right next to her, as they watch over the garden. Birds fly from tree to tree, the clouds are slowly dissolving in the sky and a stray cat wanders around their yard. ‘What’s the plan for today?’ Henry asks, as he grabs a cracker from the plate.

‘I think we have… pre… per… pre-pa-ra-tion time for the the final challenge tomorrow.’ She looks a bit annoyed, for her tumbling over her words. ‘Fuck,’ she hisses under her breath.

‘Addy,’ he says in a soft voice, causing her to look up. ‘It’s okay, remember that. You are with me.’ He can’t help but push a strand of hair out of her face and as he is doing that, he knows this is what fans comment about, if this shot makes it into the episode. He doesn’t even care at this point. He actually quite enjoys the fact that they are the fan favorites now.

‘Sorry,’ she whispers, clearly a bit distraught from stumbling like that. She was doing great these past few days.

He decides not to continue this conversation, because he knows that it annoys her and makes her feel insecure. Especially on a beautiful day like this, he shouldn’t bring up something like that. ‘We could go into town, buy some things.’

She nods. ‘Of course. Sounds like fun.’

‘And maybe you and I could go for a swim later this evening.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s fun,’ he chuckles. ‘Maybe you can finally swim by yourself. Just a little bit. You’ve been doing so good these last few days.’

Adelaide simply smiles at him, before taking a bite of her cracker. ‘Maybe.’ She lets out a sigh, placing her head against his bicep. Despite them wanting to keep whatever they have a bit of a secret, he loves this moment and doesn’t care about the camera’s picking this up. He doesn’t care about eventual comments from the fans. The only thing he cares about is that she feels safe enough to let her guard down around him and be vulnerable like this.

He places his hand on her leg. ‘I saw there is a little cafe, maybe we can have something to drink there.’

She nods. ‘Of course.’

They finish up their breakfast and she quickly tells him that she is going to put on some make-up and get dressed. He doesn’t think that she needs that, but he simply stares after her. When she’s out of his sight, he lets out a deep, slightly frustrated sigh that he had been holding in for a while now.

Richard is really annoying the shit out of him. He means, of course he wasn’t too excited about working with Adelaide in the first place, but that was before he got to know her. That was before she looked at him with those eyes of her, that hid so much, but on the other hand told him a lot. That was before he felt her body against his. That was before she sat on his lap and kissed him.

That afternoon, he was falling for her a little more with every kiss that they shared. It just clicked, it matched perfectly. Her petite frame fits right in his arms, like they were made for one another. He loves feeling her soft skin underneath his fingers.

‘Ready?’ Adelaide asks, when she walks back in. She is wearing a blush pink dress, that is pretty tight fitting. He bites his lip as he tries not to gawk at her, however he barely manages and simply nods. She grabs her purse and he holds out his hand. ‘What is it?’ she asks him, her voice as sweet as honey.

‘Give me your purse,’ he says with a smile. ‘Come on.’

Adelaide rolls her eyes and reluctantly hands him her purse. ‘Looks good on you,’ she chuckles. When they closed the door behind them, they decide not to take the car, but to walk instead. He holds out his arm for her to take. Her hand rests on his under arm, her finger nails grazing over his skin.

Henry can see them walking around like this in the future, her as his girlfriend and he wouldn’t be complaining about that at all.

◎ ◎ ◎

They have bought a few items, like some extra clothing and a first aid kit (that was something that Adelaide thought of), and now they are in a pretty fancy store, because Henry saw something in the window, that he really wants Adelaide to try on. He grabs the dress from the rack and a pair of heels that would match. ‘Try this on,’ Henry tells her.

She frowns, crossing her arms in front of her chest. ‘Why?’

‘Just to humor me. Pretty please.’

Adelaide simply rolls her eyes, before he spots a tiny smile on her face. She walks over to the changing room, as he follows her to shut the curtain. He watches as the camera’s start to spread over the store, capturing every moment. He hears her hum softly as she gets changed, forcing a smile on his face.

She is too adorable.

‘You done?’ Henry asks.

‘Almost,’ she says. ‘But you can open the curtain. Maybe you can even help me zip up.’

He would love that. With the upmost discretion, he opens the curtain, making sure the camera’s can’t pick up on them. ‘Give me kiss,’ he mouths, so the mic’s don’t pick up.

‘Why?’ she soundlessly whispers back,

‘Just do it,’ he says without making noise.

She steps into the heels, before leaning in to give him a soft kiss. Her plump and soft lips against his, nearly makes him hum in content. He wishes this moment could last forever, but it’s Adelaide that pulls him back into the real world. ‘Zip me up,’ she tells him, as she turns around.

He zips her up, glancing at her body and with a certain elegance and grace, Adelaide steps out of the changing room, twirling in front of the mirror. Henry has seen a few of her red carpet looks and he has to admit: she absolutely knows how to work the camera, with that an innocent look, but also a certain confidence.

‘You look beautiful,’ he says and quickly closes his mouth, because there is so much he wants to say to her. This tight black dress, shows off all her features that she should flaunt a lot more. The deep neckline, her exposed back and the way it hugs all her curves…

‘You like it?’ Adelaide asks him, looking at him through the mirror.

‘I don’t just like it, I love it, Addy,’ he admits, leaning with his shoulder against the wall.

‘Why did you want me to wear this, mister Cavill?’ she asks him, walking up to him, stopping right in front of him, with her hands resting on her hips.

‘Just because,’ he mumbles.

Adelaide scoffs. ‘That’s not a good enough reasoning for me.’

He wonders what it would be like to have an honest to God relationship with the lovely Adelaide Park. She teases him a lot, she uses him as a personal pillow and seems to enjoy his presence. Henry would love to do this a lot more often: take her out shopping. It doesn’t have to be extravagant like this, even a domestic run through the grocery store would suffice. Besides, just being around her would be all he needs.

Shit, he is really falling for her hard and fast.

Adelaide’s hand grazes over his chest and he places his on hers, engulfing her hand underneath his. ‘I just figured it would look beautiful on you and I was totally right.’

He can see it; she is lost in his eyes for a few seconds. She visibly shakes herself out of her thoughts, before simply rolling her eyes—a defense mechanism, pretending that she doesn’t care about his words, while actually she does. It’s adorable, really—and stepping back into the changing room. ‘Addy, give me the heels and dress.’

‘Why?’ he hears her ask from behind the curtain.

‘Because I’m going to buy them for you.’

‘I thought you were my partner, not my sugar daddy.’ She pulls the curtain aside and she is wearing her own dress again, while she is slipping on her own shoes again. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘I do,’ he tells her. ‘Please, let me buy this for you. Admit it: it looks really good on you.’

She scrunches up her nose. ‘It does,’ she whispers.

‘Then you should have it.’

‘It’s really expensive,’ Adelaide retorts.

‘Doesn’t matter. I have not one, but two cards with me. I think I will be fine.’ He takes the black dress and the heels with him and walks over to the counter, to pay for them.

Henry insists on carrying all the bags for her and when they arrive at the cafe, she slides next to him on the bench, so they can look at the pedestrians walking by. She sits so close to him, that he is afraid that she can hear his raising heartbeat. No matter how comfortable they are with one another right now, she still makes him a bit nervous.

‘You look forward to camping with me?’ she asks.

‘I look forward to do anything with you,’ Henry chuckles, causing her to blush intensely. ‘You’ve ever been camping before?’

That is such a stupid question, he thinks to himself. Probably not, since she told him about her family situation. If people barely have money for food, they don’t go on camping trips. Henry, you stupid fool.

She simply shakes her head and from the looks of it, she’s not bothered by his question. ‘You?’

‘As a kid, yeah. But I mostly just followed my dad.’

‘More experience than me,’ Adelaide chuckles. She takes a sip of her cappuccino and says: ‘Just have to tell you, that I don’t really like night time.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s dark and outside,’ Adelaide tells him. ‘And I might be a little bit afraid in the dark, if you hadn’t noticed that already with the haunted house.’

Henry chuckles. ‘A little bit, but don’t you worry about a thing. I’m going to be right there with you. Besides,’ he says, ‘I don’t care about winning.’

‘Sure you do.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t and don’t fight me on that,’ he jokes, pinching her chubby cheek. ‘I just look forward to spend more time with you.’

◎ ◎ ◎

‘Henry, could you come in here?’

Adelaide’s voice is coming from the bathroom and he stops in front of the closed door. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, worry running through his veins.

‘There is a spider here and I want you to kill it.’

That’s actually quite the relief and it causes Henry to chuckle. He opens the door, only to discover that she is simply leaning against the wall. Adelaide places her finger on her lips and gestures to close the door. The door clicks shut behind him and she walks over to him. ‘What are you—’ He can’t finish his sentence, because she plants her lips on his, wrapping her arms around his neck. Henry melts against her body, placing his hands on her waist and chuckles. ‘Never knew you could be this sneaky, Addy.’ He lifts her on the counter and gives her another kiss. ‘I missed your lips.’

‘I missed yours too,’ she whispers. ‘I fear that this is because it’s all new and exciting, but I really can’t stop kissing you.’

He never expected her to be this bold, but he also feels like she has been holding back all along. The world is seeing one version of Adelaide Park, the one that she wants them to see, that she has gotten used to be. However, there is an even more complicated one hidden behind a large wall that she has build over the years. Slowly but surely, she lets her guard down every so often, to show him what she is like.

He can’t wait to see more of that.

‘I can’t stop either,’ he confesses, leaning in to kiss her again.

She tilts her head when he lets go of her, her thumbs slowly caressing his cheeks. ‘Henry,’ she whispers, ‘I’m worried for tomorrow.’

‘Why is that, Addy?’

She simply shrugs. ‘I’m just afraid that I’m going to let you down.’

Richards words flash through his mind for a single second, but he quickly shoves them aside. ‘Don’t be. I don’t care about winning anymore, especially because I won the greatest prize already.’ He buries his face in her nape, to press a delicate kiss on her skin. ‘We’ll see how it goes, okay? But remember, you and I are together every single minute. I’m not leaving you alone, because I know that is what you are worried about too.’

Adelaide nods, as she looks a bit caught. ‘Pinky promise?’

He holds out his pink, hooking it behind hers. ‘Pinky promise,’ he whispers, pressing a kiss on her fingers.

Henry sits on the bed, the smile still evident on his face. Shit, he is way too much into her. He waits as he hears Adelaide hum again, before she walks out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body and a huge smile on her face.

After he changed into the blue shorts, he walks out of the cottage, towards the pool. Adelaide is already sitting on the edge, her back as straight as a ruler and he sits next to her. ‘Ready?’ Henry asks her.

She takes a deep breath. ‘I am.’

He gets in the cold water and places his hands in the dips of her waist. Henry enjoys these swimming moments they share together. Her body is always so close to his and the evening sun making her like an ethereal goddess. He knows that it’s hard for her to trust anyone, but he somehow managed to build something with her.

Like usual, she hisses as soon as she hits the water and wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders. Her legs snake around his hips and that is the first time that she does that. While he is not complaining, Henry continues to tell himself that his teen years are over and that this shouldn’t make him this excited.

Adelaide manages to actually sort of swim, but he keeps his hand on her stomach, making sure she keeps floating. ‘Don’t let go of me,’ she tells him.

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

The water hits her in her face, but she starts to laugh.

‘You’re almost there, Addy,’ Henry encourages her and she places her underarms on the edge.

A chuckle of disbelieve leaves her lips. ‘I did it, Henry!’ She wraps her arms around his shoulders.

He pulls her closer to his body. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ he tells her. She pulls back and from the looks of it, it seems like she doesn’t care about hiding anymore, not when his hands are placed on her back. Her hot breath makes his lips tingle. ‘Thank you.’

It takes him all of his willpower not to lean in and kiss her, because the temptation is nearly killing him. He kissed her a few times today, however it’s not enough. He can’t stop thinking about her, about kissing her non stop and getting to know her even more. Maybe it’s because it’s all new and exciting.

Adelaide starts to shiver a bit and he presses his forehead against her temple. ‘Let’s get out of the pool. It’s becoming colder.’

He gets out and grabs her towel, holding it out her for her, wrapping her up in her large towel. He doesn’t want to let her go, but he keeps thinking to himself that in a matter of a few days, she is all his and the camera’s are finally out.

Adelaide takes a quick hot shower and walks over to the bed all dressed in her pajamas. He quickly gets himself ready, before he steps in the bed with her. He shuts out the lights, wrapping his arm around her upper body, as he presses his chest against her back. ‘Sleep tight,’ he whispers, burying his face in the back of her neck.

‘Good night,’ she says, holding his hand tightly in hers.

It doesn’t take long before he feels her asleep. He doesn’t know how she does it, but she always falls asleep pretty quickly and he has spend enough nights next to her to hear the change of her breathing. She twists and turns in his arms, like she usually does. Adelaide turns around and wraps her arm and leg around him and her face in the crook of his neck. He simply holds her body closely to his, as he feels her lips against his skin.

Henry’s fingers run through her hair and carefully presses a kiss on top of her head. He doesn’t care about winning anymore.

The one thing he cares about, is Adelaide Park.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x adelaide park #the alluring charm of henry cavill #asian ofc #adelaide park

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

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handmaid - 14

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: hiya so before you start reading, if you’re not from the uk or interested in academic life in the uk, russell group is a very odd word. russell groups are what ivy leagues are in the us meaning it’s a group of very prestigious unis like cambridge, oxford and durham. just thought i should explain what it was so no one’s confused. also remember that weird episode carter baizen had a very badly made tattoo on his wrist? yeah that is mentioned here bc i basically decided that young seb acted like carter. sorry for taking longer than usual to post but i hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

- Don’t you wanna kiss me? - he caged her between the wall and him, hands resting on both side of her head. - Be honest.

He was close enough so she could see every detail and texture of the skin of his face and feel his soft and controlled breathe. Y/N couldn’t help but touch his face, her fingers lingering on tiny little scar marks that seemed to have faded over the years but not enough to departure his face, to tracing his jaw to finally settling on his lips. Curiously, her thumb swiped down his lip almost as if she was trying to erase the fact that her own lips knew exactly what his felt like.

There was this undeniable pull between the two of them that Y/N couldn’t deny existed, however, she was much too smart to give in again. She had plenty of examples where giving in to affections led to terrible fates beginning with Juliet and both hers and her beloved’s death and ending all the way with Anna Karenina jumping in front of a train. No, Y/N was much too smart to ignore what surrounded her. However, she was still a young woman and like so, she was no match for the rotten judgement that came along with her young years. Nevertheless, she pressed her body harshly against the wall, hoping that somehow she could merge with it and avoid the question that was being posed to her.

- Cat got your tongue, angel? - he questioned yet it didn’t sound like a mock as it sounded like a tease. - You can talk to me. I know you’ve missed me.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about. - she turned her head to the side, hand clutching the towel for dear life. If there was something worse sounding than this situation was being naked in front of him, her friend’s fiancé. Sebastian smirked, noticing how she had bared her neck to him unknowingly giving a clear view of the bruises forming from last night. God, it was quite a sight, a sight he could get used to seeing every single day.

He could just see it in front of him. Waking up every single morning to her already flushed cheeks in one of those sheer white pyjamas with her soft skin bruised from several nights of pure undecided pleasure. Y/N, on the other hand, was trying her best not to lower her hand to the skin showing through the V of his grey tee shirt which looked very inviting. Stop it, Y/N. You’re a smart woman, this is just the hormones speaking.

- I was wondering if you’d accompany me for breakfast. There’s the little spot downtown I’m certain you’d enjoy.

- Did you ask Gwen? - her voice came uncertain almost paining her to mention Gwen in the middle of all of this. Gwen needed to be mention, they were gonna be married, they are gonna be married. That is certainty.

Sebastian stepped back as if he had been hit by lighting before sighing and leaving her be. Her loyalties lied way too deep with the Forrests and he wasn’t about to get her in trouble or do something she didn’t feel like doing. Y/N, on the other hand, watched the door like a hawk watching as he left with a sense of guilt she couldn’t deny. It was just a crush, she told herself, it was just a crush and crushes are normal. Single people crush on married ones all the time that does not mean they will try and ruin a wedding, not that Y/N could ruin something that wall already ruined.

A single part of hers expected him to be teasing again and enter the room once more but he didn’t and after she spent a long while leaned against the wall as if some invisible force was holding her, Y/N decided it would be best if she got dressed and checked on Gwen, mostly to ensure the heiress was home. After she was in a long sweater accompanied by some black leggings, she followed the wall down to Gwen’s bedroom, knocking on the door rather loudly.

From her knock, what sounded like a commotion could be heard from inside the heiress’ bedroom along with the sounds of feet paddling the ground until the door was opened. However, instead of Gwen standing there with her usual bed ridden eyes, it was her bodyguard who opened the door in a rather untidy way, carrying his trousers in hand. Y/N peeked inside the bedroom, an equally untidy Gwen with the sheets up to her collarbones waving goodbye at Christian.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep but Y/N was livid. She stomped into the bedroom, closed the door behind her and crossed her arms at the woman she had known since they were both born.

- Are you joking? - she questioned, attempting to sound annoyed but it came more as of a “again?” sort of inquiry. - You can’t do that under Sebastian’s roof when he’s at home.

- Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m careful. - she shrugged, her hand coming to push her own hair back which caused the sun to hit the gem on her engagement ring. God, she didn’t even take it off. - It’s not like he can kill me.

- Genevieve, you’re engaged. You’re gonna be married and all you’re doing is acting like a teenager. God, I understand you don’t wanna get married to someone you don’t like but the least you can do is try to be his friend, at least.

- I don’t need friends like Sebastian and I also don’t need you to lecture me.

- Seems like you do considering you’ve been sleeping around ever since we came into this house when you’re engaged. - she pointed at the engagement ring on Gwen’s finger but she merely huffed as if Y/N was reprimanding her for something completely unnecessary. - Gwen, your father asked ...

- You’re just being jealous, Y/N. - the handmaid was stunned by those words. Jealous of what? - You’ve always been jealous. You’re jealous that no one has ever looked at you and now you’re trying to destroy my love life.

- You shouldn’t have a love life, you’re engaged. - Y/N tried to reason with the redhead but she was much to head strong to listen. - I’m done discussing this with you.

- Then do me a favour and stop giving your opinion on my engagement.

- I’m just try ...

- Miss Forrest? - one of the maids knocked on the door, creaking it ever so slightly. - Your father’s here.

- My father? - Gwen furrowed her eyebrows, jumping from the bed with her sheets wrapped around her. - Why is my father hre?

- I don’t know. - Y/N shrugged but her mind was certainly going haywire about what could it be. Had he gotten word she had kissed Sebastian? Was he here to fire her. She didn’t know.

- Go distract him. - the heiress pushed Y/N out of the bedroom, locking the door behind her.

The handmaid sighed, wondering if Mr. Forrest was in a good mood or if she was about to be fired. Maybe being fired was a good idea, that would mean she would be as far away from Sebastian as possible. However, little to no people get fired from mob related jobs even if they’re not complete associates. Instead they got to sleep with the fish and Y/N wasn’t a big fan of that.

As she went down the stairs she could see Mr. Forrest in his signature black suit and red tie he had been wearing since he could remember. He always look sophisticated enough for you to wonder if he was some sort of professor in a Russell or Ivy League group. However, he had this air of familiarity which Sebastian lacked, making Sebastian a more austere person to look at. Maybe it was that Y/N had grown up around Mr. Forrest and not Sebastian, but Mr. Forrest was always very approachable.

- Y/N! - he smiled at the sight of the young handmaid. - What happened to your neck?

- My neck? - her hand covered her neck as she realised what was in her neck in full display for everyone who was curious enough to look at. Oh fuck. - Oh ... I burned myself with a curling iron.

- Did they take you to the hospital? - he inspected the marks on her neck.

- No, Mr. Forrest, it is fine. I’ve done it before, it’ll be gone in a few weeks. - she smiled nervously. - So ... we weren’t expecting your visit today, Sir. Is there something the matter?

- I need to speak with Mr. Stan about the Paris’ events. It was a clear lack of security and you two could’ve gotten harmed.

- But it was an ambush, sir. I don’t think it’s his fault. - she shifted her weight from feet to feet, eyes everywhere but his face. - Besides, his first worry was Genevieve. He rushed her out of the hotel once the shots were heard and none of us were harmed.

- Who protected you during the shot?

- My bodyguard. I think it is really unfair to blame Mr. Stan for something he wasn’t expecting, sir. Besides, he took care of Gwen. - she was lying but if she were to tell the father of the heiress that Sebastian had went to her instead of his daughter, they would both be axed off. Not that he would kill Sebastian, he would probably kill her and just yell at Sebastian which, honestly, would have little to no effect on him.

- Living with Mr. Stan really hasn’t changed your forgiven nature, has it? - his expression softened, taking the weight of guilty out of Y/N’s back. - Nevertheless, there is still some affairs that need to be mentioned and discussed, specifically the wedding.

- He’s ready for you, sir. - Amelia spoke out and Mr. Forrest nodded his goodbye to Y/N.

Y/N just stood there, sighing in relief that he seemed to not have any idea that she had locked lips with his daughter’s husband to be and that she had managed to grab Sebastian out of the madness that was him thinking Gwen had been alone.

The young girl sat on the coach, thinking she could take this break to breathe without stress but Gwen soon came down the stairs with Christian behind her whose hand was resting in the back pocket of her jeans. Y/N rolled her eyes, grabbing one of the books from the coffee table and opening it up. She? Jealous? Of what exactly? Just because she wanted them to at least be friendly with each other did not mean she was jealous of Gwen’s engagement.

- Where’s dad?

- He’s in a meeting with Sebastian. - Y/N didn’t even raise her eyes from her book, speaking with a rather bland voice.

- Being mad is childish, Y/N. - she shrugged, stepping to the kitchen to grab a tangerine.

- I’m not mad at you, Gwen.

- If you’re not mad at me then you can cover for me while I go shopping with Christian. - it wasn’t like Y/N was in the place to complain anymore so she just nodded, pulling her legs up so her feet were resting on the couch as she got lost in another one of Austen’s works.

Jane Austen was one of Y/N’s favourite writers despite many book snobs thinking it was overrated. This was mostly due to the intelligence that even subdued female characters seemed to hold and the way she described everything with just the right amount of detail to allow your mind to flow freely into her worlds.

She was much too lost in Mansfield Park’s words to notice Sebastian and Mr. Forrest had walked down the stairs and were now in the living room. This was only brought to her attention once her name was called out by Mr. Forrest, inquiring about his daughter.

- She’s still asleep. - she lied probably for the 100th time today. - Rough night.

- Still adapting to the mattress. - Sebastian added, certain that Y/N was covering for the heiress.

- Ah ... Y/N, I hope you and Gwen come to visit soon. The house has certainly loss youth ever since you two left.

- Of course, Mr. Forrest. - Y/N smiled, waving goodbye as he entered the lift, leaving Y/N and Sebastian in the living room. God, why was the universe still allowing them to be alone in closed environments?

- The maid said you and Gwen were in a fight. Are you okay? - he asked but still kept his distance, the austere like posture still very much presence which was a far cry from the relaxed vibe he used to put out when with her.

- Yeah, she was just ... having a bit of fun with Christian. - Y/N put the book down on the coffee table, wrapping her arms around her knees which were folded close to her chest.

- I can have a word with her if it bothers you.

- It doesn’t bother me. - once again lying. She would never admit it to herself but it bothered her that Gwen could go around being engaged and she couldn’t go around with Sebastian. Someone had to be the moral one.

- Sounds like it does, angel. - there it was, the nickname. - You sure you don’t want me to fire him?

- No, I want you and Gwen to at least be friends. You’re gonna be married and if you’re not attracted to each other you could at least be friends. - Sebastian sat next to her on the luxurious leathered deep couch.

- You have to understand that people don’t get to marry because they’re friends or like each other in this sort of business. It’s not what we do.

- Just because it’s what it’s done doesn’t been it should be done. Do you seriously want to be married for the rest of your life to someone you’re not even friendly with?

- In all honesty Y/N, me and Gwen won’t even live in the same house after we get married. She was to go to LA and I’ll let her go there, we just need to be married, not together or in love.

- I don’t wanna go to LA, it’s too hot. - she spoke out without even putting her thought through the rational part of her brain. - I’ve never left NY, I don’t wanna leave to go to LA.

- Just quit. - he shrugged. - You do know you can quit your job and actually have a life right?

- People don’t quit the mob.

- You’re a handmaid, you’re not exactly part of the mob. Besides, you have a Cambridge degree you can get a job.

- I don’t have any experience besides I’ve never actually did anything other than this. I don’t have experience, I don’t have parents, I don’t have a family at all. - she grimaced at the thought but it was true. She never knew her parents and the only thing she had from them was the necklace from her mother, there was no other immediate family around or if there were Mr. Forrest always said they were dead. At the end of the day, she was by herself in a world that had been shielded away from her. What she knew was being by Gwen’s side and basically making sure she didn’t die. - I don’t have anything to inherit, I have a degree yes but I never actually worked a single day in my life. I don’t have enough money to make a downpayment on a home or to even rent in NY. God, I don’t even have enough money to buy a ticket to get out of NY.

- I’m sorry, Y/N. - he reached his hand out, caressing her jaw which led her to notice a dark mark on his wrist she hadn’t noticed before.

- Is that a tattoo? - her eyes lit with curiosity. - I’ve never noticed that before. When did you got a tattoo?

- When I was 16. Me and my friends faked our parents signatures and got it done at a weird place downtown. My father was livid and I’m pretty sure he died still mad about it.

- Well, it does look very bad. - she bite her lip to hold in a laugh.

- Stop biting your lip, angel. - he said in a warning tone, hand lowering to one of the hickeys near her collarbone. - You are tempting me.

- You should learn to control yourself then.

- I don’t know if I wanna control myself around you.

- I think we suffer from the same thing, then ... Sir.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @sarge-barnes-sir @captainchrisstan

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/N #sebastian stan/y/n #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan

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gogglor · 3 years ago

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Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Laugh Out Loud Friday

Third to last installment for @cap-ironman rec week, and today we’re focusing on fics that, in my humble opinion, are flipping hysterical. For me that tends to mean lots of snarky banter, but I found some hysterical situation comedy in my favs folder too when I was looking for recs today. In any event, if you’re in the mood for a giggle, here’s some fics that’ll deliver in spades.

Moanin’

Author: Captain_Panda

Word Count: 1,041

Summary: Wet. Steamy. Sultry. Jazz. It's jazz. In a bathtub.

Why You Should Read It:

Captain_Panda’s another Stony gem that puts out good stuff on the regular, and this one’s just such a delightful gem.

Tony is naked, sick, and high on cough syrup. Steve needs to get him a dinner held in his honor. Honestly, the mental imagery alone is enough to do it for me; it is a firm principle of mine that far more people should write naked, high Tony Stark. This fic’s short, but it’s a great one to go back to if you’re looking for something light and silly.

Bells Will Be Ringing

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 29,651

Summary: Steve Rogers is in love with Tony Stark. He's determined that he's finally going to do something about that. Christmas is a time for love and togetherness, and now may be the best chance he has. But some things aren't as simple as they should be.

Why You Should Read It:

I absolutely cannot let a funny Stony fic list happen without recommending something by sci, because dear lord in heaven they are a funny SOB. Pick any of their fics at random and you’ll end up with something equal parts hilarious and delightful. It’s honestly a crime that their work is available for free.

This fic is yet another sci masterpiece, complete with their regular hallmarks of the best goddamn banter I’ve ever read, well-developed characters, spectacular world-building, and a lovely emotional payoff at the end. Additionally, it is absolutely hysterical. If you wanna read about the Avengers Council of Lesbians and what happens if you give Clint Barton a box of Pixie Stix, give it a read.

A Good Vintage

Author: JenTheSweetie

Word Count: 6,727

Summary: “You own a what?” After Ultron shows up, instead of taking the Avengers to his secret family, Clint takes them to his secret winery. Things go… a little bit differently.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly, it’s become a bit of a meme in the POTS server that everyone’s always recommending this fic, because A) It does not have nearly enough kudos, and B) Holy crap is it funny.

Clint owns a secret winery instead of a secret farm, and everybody goes there to lie low during Age of Ultron. There is drinking, and swimming, and 90′s hiphop, and a heck of a lot of nachos. Drunk decisions are made. Just a lovely Stony fic with a side of team bonding.

There’s Something Aboot Steve

Author: epicycles

Word Count: 2,314

Summary: "You know, it makes a lot of sense," Tony mused aloud, once all the shouting was over. "You're so polite, you like maple syrup, you wear a lot of plaid."

Why You Should Read It:

Another one for the silly and delightful pile.

It turns out, Steve Rogers was born in Canada before immigrating to the U.S. when he was a few months old. What will the public say? Will Canada try to take him back? Are the Avengers prepared to fight their hockey-loving brethren to rescue Steve from the clutches of trained polar bears? All that and more answered in this fic.

Even My Phone Misses Your Call

Author: rainbowninja167

Word Count: 10,869

Summary: Steve makes it all the way to Ohio before conceding that the post-Chitauri road trip might’ve been a mistake. Or, ten times Steve has to call Tony to come pick him up.

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s got more feels in in than what’s been on the list so far, but it’s all balanced perfectly against some damn funny stuff. Steve keeps getting into tight spots for one reason or another, and keeps calling Tony to come pick him up. Friendship, then something else develops from there.

One thing I really like about this one is that both Tony and Steve get to be the funny one. Snarky Steve is such a gift, as is “The serum enhanced all my senses except my common sense” Steve, and “I would be delighted to let you mistake me for a choirboy” Steve, all if which is present here. Add in some mutual pining and some high-quality smut and you’ve got a really delightful fic.

Out of Order

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 4,368

Summary: After Tony and Steve hook up in the Tower elevator, both of them are totally cool with keeping it casual. Totally, totally cool.

Why You Should Read It:

El’s another author it wouldn’t feel right leave out of a list of funny as hell Stony writers, and one whose works you could draw from at random and strike gold.

This one tells a story through times Steve and Tony ride the elevator together, because why have one bottle episode when you can have six? Tony is a snarky bastard, Steve is a smitten grump, both of them are garbage communicators, and at one point Clint spills a bunch of Milk Duds and goes “Aww, Milk Duds no!”. I literally cannot tell you why I find that last one so funny but that scene lives rent-free in my head under a big sign that says “Examples of the Clint Barton We Should’ve Had in the MCU.” Anyway, go read this sweet, funny, delightful fic, it’ll be the highlight of your day.

Lastly, one self-rec, because a witch sent me into the woods to find a cow as white as milk, a cape as red as blood, a hair as yellow as corn, and 10,000 AO3 kudos.

Stupid Sexy Avengers

Author: gogglor

Word Count: 22,624

Summary: Tony, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Jane, and Rhodey all tell each other the funniest thing that's ever happened to them related to their sex lives. If you're interested in hearing the Avengers tell stories about their lives that are funny and mortifying and surprisingly sweet, you've found your fic.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s Clint’s birthday, and as a birthday present he asks Steve and Tony to tell him what happened that got Steve to stop being so shy about making sex jokes. The end result is everyone around the common room telling each other the funniest thing that’s ever happened to them related to their sexual histories.

This one’s a part 2 of a series, but I deliberately wrote it to stand on its own, so there’s no need to go back and read part 1. In it, you’ll find stories of disastrous language misunderstandings, ideas so bad only horny teenagers could think of them, the bonds of friendship forged and tested (in one case literally), and a giant blue glittery dildo named “Mr. Dick.” Personally I think it’s one of the funnier things I’ve ever written, but what do I know, I’m just a Tumblr post you didn’t even pay to read.

We’ve got two more days of Cap-Ironman RecWeek, and I am delighted to tell you all that some of the best is yet to come. Ta-ta for now!

#capimrecweek #stony #Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #fanfic #fanfic rec

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rohad93 · 4 years ago

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Moonlit Masquerade: Read All About It! Pt 3 (Final)

Saturday morning Luz runs out of the house towards town. She's meeting Willow and Gus to hang out for the day and shop for some clothes. She’d tried on her clothes from the masquerade and realized with horror that her growth spurt over the last six months had grown her out of them, leaving the pants hanging a good almost two inches up her ankle, the same for her shirt, which now sat an inch above her wrist bone. There was no way she could go to dinner at Blight Manor like this; at least the vest and shoes still fit.

She needs to talk to her friends about tomorrow night’s dinner, maybe they can offer her some kind of pointers and help her shop.

The market is busy as it always is on Saturday, filled with the varied denizens of the Isles doing their shopping. Gus and Willow are waiting for her at the fountain at the center of the market. They see her coming and wave.

"Hey, guys!" She grins brightly at them and the two smile back, they can already tell that she is in a much better mood than the last few days.

"You look chipper, did something happen?" Willow asks.

"Amity's parents found out last night," she says and shocked looks replace her friend’s smiles.

"What?!" Gus yelps.

"And you're… happy?" Willow questions.

"Yeah, they didn't forbid her from seeing me! Her dad wants to meet me, I'm having dinner there tomorrow night," she explains.

"That's great, Luz!" She smiles.

"Hopefully, Lilith is gonna start giving me etiquette lessons when I get home, also I need to get some new clothes. I’ve grown out of the only nice ones I had, maybe you guys could help me pick out some new pants and a shirt?” she asks.

“Oh, shopping!” Gus grins. Willow laughs.

“Sure we can.” She nods.

“Great, let’s go!” She grins, taking off with the two witches hot on her heels.

They spend the morning poking their heads into different shops and suggesting clothes to Luz.

“What colors were you thinking of?” Willow asks as they wander through a fancy dress clothes store. The scaly, winged clerk watches them carefully, they are three teenagers in an upscale store.

“Well, I know Amity really likes dark reddish-pink colors…,” she says, looking at some pants.

“You’re trying to impress her parents, Luz. Amity couldn’t be any more enamored with you if you tried. If this wasn’t dinner with her parents, you could show up in that otter onesie and she’d still be happy to see you,” Willow chuckled.

“I still wanna look nice for my girlfriend…,” she pouts with a huff, making Willow roll her eyes.

“Well, I think you’d look really good in red then…,” Willow hums, sorting through some dress shirts hanging in a display.

“Yeah, like a dark, blood-red,” Gus agrees. “Something fancy and mysterious.” He wiggles his fingers. “Oh, what about a cloak?” he turns to Luz who brightens at the idea.

"Yeah!"

“Well, it is in fashion to wear a cloak…,” Willow concedes upon seeing their excitement. Normally she’d veto the cloak, but it is the fashion for formal events and gatherings, and if dinner at Blight manor isn’t a formal event, Willow doesn’t know what is.

Gus and Luz high five.

Willow makes a pleased sound as she pulls a shirt off the rack and holds it for the two to inspect.

“How’s this?” She holds up a deep, wine red button-down shirt.

“Ohhh, I like it. Let me try it on.” She takes it and disappears into the dressing room along with a pair of pants.

Gus and Willow wait for her to reappear.

"What do you think?" she asks as she steps out and spins in a little circle for them.

It fits her perfectly in all the right places across her shoulders and chest. The black pants go with the deep color.

"Lookin' fancy." Gus grins.

"Looks great, Luz," Willow agrees.

"Great, just need to get me a cloak and we can get out of here," she says before disappearing back inside the dressing room.

Gus and Willow wander over to the section where those particular garments are kept and begin browsing while they wait for Luz.

When she comes back they browse a little while, they're all manner of cloaks hung up on the racks in the most outlandish colors and styles. Some with feathers or scales sewn in, and even some with built-in shoulder armor that makes her grin. True, she still has the cloak Eda made for her out of witch's wool, but it is a little short on her now, and definitely won't go with her clothes. She's also not expecting any powerful spells to be thrown her way during dinner.

As much as her dramatic heart wants to go big, she knows that this is not the occasion for it. She's going for something a little more... respectable, than what she would normally choose.

Then something catches her eye. It's a plain black cloak, lined in a deep purple, and without a hood, it has a collar instead. What grabs her attention though is the little gold owl clasps attached to the chain that holds it closed. She pulls it off the rack and swings it across her back. It’s silky to the touch and sits comfortably heavy on her shoulders, and hits her in the back of the calves.

"Whaddaya guys think?" she calls to Gus and Willow.

"Oh, that's perfect, Luz," Willow says.

"Sharp," Gus agrees.

"Great, I think we're all done here then." She takes it off and bundles her items together as they walk up to the counter. The clerk hums, looking less suspicious of them now that they're actually buying something.

He rings it up and Luz balks at the price, but forks over the amount of snails begrudgingly. That was a heavy hit to her personal funds. If her parents allow them to keep dating, Amity is going to have to fund their dates for a while.

They spend the rest of the morning wandering around the market.

"Should I bring a gift? You're supposed to bring a gift for your host right? Or is that just a human tradition?" Luz asks.

"Yeah, but what would you even take?" Gus scratches his chin.

"Flowers are always a good choice," Willow suggests.

"I'll ask Lilith, she'd know…"

They part ways soon after, Luz scurrying home with her purchases.

She puts the bag in her closet, where Hooty can't get to it and hurries downstairs where Lilith is waiting, standing at the counter.

"Ready to get started?" she asks.

"I was born ready!" Luz grins and Lilith smiles.

"Very well, for this, pretend I'm the host and we're about to sit down to dinner," she says.

Luz walks up to the table and starts pulling out a chair, but stops when Lilith tuts at her.

"The first rule is to wait until the host has sat, or indicated that you may seat yourself."

"Oh… okay." She steps back and Lilith sits at the chair opposite from her and then gestures to it.

There is an array of silverware sitting in front of her, all mismatched since it is Eda's, but it was the best they could do on short notice. They still manage to scramble together a halfway decent example setup.

"Now… your meat fork?" Lilith asks.

Luz glances at the three forks for a long moment. They aren't labeled in any capacity and she hums before picking one at random and holding it up.

"No, that is your dessert fork," Lilith says before showing her the right fork.

This is going to be harder than Luz anticipated.

They spend the rest of Saturday carefully going over etiquette and which fork and knife are which.

Luz hums looking thoughtfully at the table for a second before picking up a fork and holding it up. She looks up at Lilith for approval, who nods.

"Yes, very good, Luz, that is your salad fork."

"Yes!" She grins and sets the cutlery back onto the table among the other forks, knives, and various place settings.

They've been at this all day and most of last night. It's Sunday afternoon and they're having a last run through. Luz will not stop until she gets it right every time. Her relationship with Amity hinges on making a good first impression, and not making an absolute fool of herself at this dinner.

"Now, when passing foods or condiments, which side do you pass to?"

"Offer to the left and pass everything to the right?" she says, unsure, but Lilith smiles and nods.

"Very good. Used silverware?" She asks, cocking a brow.

"Should never touch the table, keep it on your plate," she answers almost automatically. That had been her biggest problem when they started, constantly setting her fork back on the table.

"Correct," she says, walking around and tapping Luz under the chin. The girl sits up straight at the slight touch. "Remember, sit up straight, always."

"Right." She nods.

Eda watches the display from the kitchen island where she's mixing potions.

"This seems like an awful lot of work to eat…," she gripes.

"Be that as it may, this is what Luz needs to know if she is to make a good impression at this dinner. She's already going in looking unfavorable as a human, being associated with the two of us, you especially doesn't do her any favors either. The best she can do is be a picture-perfect dinner guest."

Eda sticks her tongue out but doesn't argue the point. Her reputation probably isn't going to help Luz.

They keep at it for a while until Luz has a perfect mock run of dinner.

"I believe you are as ready as you're ever going to be," Lilith declares by late afternoon and Luz grins and jumps up to hug the older Clawthorne.

"Thank you, Lilith. I gotta iron my clothes now," she says before running upstairs.

"So, what do you think?" Eda asks once Luz has gone upstairs.

"I think if she stays calm she will be okay." She nods, sitting at the table.

"Unfortunately that's a big 'if'...," she mumbles.

"We must have faith, for her sake."

A few hours later, she's freshly showered and dressed in her clean, pressed clothes and she's standing in front of the bathroom mirror carefully combing her hair back, it's really the only way she knows how to style it that looks decent at its current awkward length. She knows without her having to say it that Amity likes it like this and doesn't want her to cut it, and it's growing on her too, literally and figuratively.

She runs into her room and slips on her shoes and grabs her cloak, stuffing her glyph book, pad and pen into her pocket. She doesn't anticipate needing it, but once bitten twice shy. She feels better with its heavyweight in her pocket. She throws on her cloak pinning the small owl clasps so it hangs across her shoulders and hurries down the stairs where the sisters are waiting.

"How do I look?" she asks as they walk over to inspect her.

"Very nice, you wouldn’t be out of place at any formal event on the Isles." Lilith smiles, reaching out to straighten the skinny black tie around Luz’s neck, fussily.

"Pretty fancy, Kid." Eda grins, then notices the gold clasps on her cloak and reaches up to finger one of the detailed birds.

"Gotta represent the owl house and my owl mom." Luz grins.

Eda snorts but there's a distinct glaze welling up in her eyes.

"Pfft, get out of here already…" She gives Luz a gentle shove, trying to push down the emotions welling up in her voice as she shoves her staff into the kid’s hands. Lilith gives her a knowing look.

"Wish me luck, love you!" she calls and runs out the front door.

"Don't set your fork on the table!" Lilith calls as she flies off and they watch her go from the doorway.

She’s a little ahead of schedule, but she has to make a quick stop in town before she heads to Blight Manor.

Amity is so nervous she might throw up.

She anxiously smooths down any imaginary wrinkles in her burgundy and black material of her ombre, sleeveless dress before pinning her brooch to her chest.

She hasn't heard from Luz at all today, which is worrying, but she hopes Lilith was able to instill the basics of formal dining in her girlfriend over a short two days.

She sits in front of her vanity mirror, smoothing out her loose hair when a pair of green-haired heads pop in her door.

"Hey, Mittens, how are you doing?" Edric asks as they step inside to stand behind her

"Nervous," she admits, looking at them in the mirror.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Luz can be pretty suave when she wants to be,” Edric assures.

“I don’t think her charms are gonna work on mom and dad the same way they do on Amity…,” Emira mumbles.

"Have some faith in our future sister-in-law.” He grins teasingly at Amity, who scowls. She’s not in the mood. “As I recall, you thought she was pretty cute when we first met too." Edric grins wickedly, eyes sliding to his twin, and Emira's cheeks pink.

Amity's eyes widened as she whips around to look at them.

"What?!"

"What? That was like nine months ago! And you hated her at the time!" she reminds, pointing at Amity. "And that was before I started dating Viney."

"I didn't hate her… I just... didn't know what her deal was yet," she mumbled. Amity should probably be more annoyed that her sister thought her girlfriend was cute but fair, Luz is cute, and at the time they were barely acquaintances, and it had been a while. Emira would never try to take Luz from her.

She sighs and stands, smoothing her dress out once more.

"I need to get downstairs, I want to make sure I'm the one who answers the door…"

"Ah, right. She might turn tail and run if it's mom," Edric snickers and Emira elbows him as Amity makes a distressed sound in her throat.

“It’s gonna be okay. Luz knows how important this is, and we both know that girl would never run,” Emira soothes.

Amity makes an agreeing sound.

The three hurry downstairs, their father is sitting in the living room, while the sounds of one of the few house staff they keep cooking in the kitchen echoes in the room.

Her father is sitting in his armchair reading from a thick leather tome. Their mother is probably in their bedroom, deciding not to grace them with her presence until their guest arrives.

He glances up as they walk down the stairs, sharp gold eyes appraising the three of them.

Edric in his dark green shirt and black vest and pants, while his twin wears a knee-length dress the same color as his shirt.

Their father nods in greeting to them as he stands, laying his book on the arm of his chair, and walks over.

"You both look beautiful this evening,” he says to his daughter's before turning to Edric and reaching up to straighten his tie. "Very dashing, Edric." He nods.

"Thank you, father." The three echo with smiles.

Of their parents, their father has always been more sincere in his compliments. They certainly came more often than from their mother, who's breath was often spent criticizing and correcting more than anything. He wasn't around as often as her though, when he wasn’t at work he was holed up in his study, doing work.

He spies the brooch his youngest is wearing and can't recall ever seeing it before. He knows it isn't something he gifted to her, and Amity has never been one to buy such things for herself. It's a very pretty little bauble, he can spy its quality at a glance in the fine detail of the thorns and the cut of the tear-shaped gemstone.

He reaches out and gently touches the metal with his fingertips.

"Where did you get this, Amity?" he asks. She's surprised by the question.

"Luz gave it to me when we started dating," she said, smiling a little to herself. Alador does not miss this and hums.

A knock on the door makes Amity jump.

"I'll get it!" she says a little louder than is necessary, and rushes to the front door and takes a breath before opening it.

She's struck speechless by the young woman standing on the other side.

"Good evening, Miss Blight, you look beautiful as ever." Luz smiles at her and gives a little bow, staff in one hand.

"Oh," is all Amity can say, cheeks reddening as she's struck by just how attractive her girlfriend looks tonight in her wine-colored shirt and fitted black vest, pants, and tie, with the cloak hanging off her shoulders. She's struck by the sudden urge to run her fingers through the smooth, shiny, slicked-back hair.

Luz seems to notice the effect she has and her smile turns into a grin as she winks, snapping her out of it.

She then notices the bouquet of lavender flowers Luz is holding in one hand, but among them is a bright red Blood-blossom.

"What are the flowers for?" she asks, stepping aside to allow Luz to walk into the entryway and hang her staff on the hooks by the door.

"You're supposed to bring a gift for your host right? I got these for your mom," she explains. Amity tries not to be disappointed by that, Luz is right, and she's glad that Lilith seems to have taught her some things, how dinner will go remains to be seen.

Luz is an expert in reading Amity though, and smiles, pulling the single Blood-blossom away from the other flowers and holding it out to her.

"As if I would ever come to you empty-handed, mi amor." She smiles coyly, but the quiet words are almost a purr and Amity thinks she might die at the violent shivers it sends down her spine.

Edric was right. Sometimes Luz is too suave; usually without even trying, when she is trying the effect is lethal.

Now is so, NOT the time for this, but she doesn't let that stop her from taking hold of the single stem being offered to her and leaning forward to plant a firm kiss on Luz's lips; she has to force herself to pull back. An effort she isn’t sure how she manages.

"Thank you," she mumbles against them, before standing back up straight. "Are you ready?" she whispers.

"Gosh, I hope…," she mumbles, her confident persona falling away to show just how nervous she really is now that the moment is at hand.

"I believe in you, querida." Amity smiles at her with a confidence she does not feel. She knows her parents, and while she knows Luz, her girlfriend has a tendency to be a wild card at the worst of times. She kisses her cheek and Luz squares her shoulders.

She leads her back into the living room where the twins and Alador are waiting, Odalia has now joined them and Luz swallows thickly at the sight of the Blight parents. They stop in front of them, and gosh is Amity's dad tall.

"Father, Mother, this is Luz Noceda. Luz, this is my father, Alador Blight, and my mother, Odalia Blight," Amity introduces.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Noceda," Alador is the first to speak, holding out his hand. Luz quickly and discreetly wipes her clammy hand on the back of her pants under her cloak before reaching out to shake the much larger hand.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Blight," she says, trying to project confidence. That's what Eda told her to do.

Actually, her adoptive mother's exact words were 'be confident, but take no shit.' Luz is pretty sure that's not the approach she wants to take tonight if she wants to keep the love of her, relatively short, life. In fact, she's pretty sure she'll take whatever shit she has to and smile while doing it.

"Welcome to our home," Odalia says, it's noticeably a little stiffer than Alador's greeting, but Luz soldiers on. She already knows enough about the Blight family matriarch to know that this was where she needed to watch herself.

"Thank you for having me; these are for you." She holds out the flowers.

There's a flash of surprise in the older woman's eyes, but it vanishes almost as quickly as it appears as she takes the flowers from you.

"How kind, thank you."

Someone clears their throat and Amity only just manages to keep from rolling her eyes.

"And you of course already know my brother and sister, Edric and Emira." Amity introduces the twins with a bit of bite.

"Hey!" They both say, grinning.

Luz smiles and waves.

"Thank you for joining us tonight, Miss Noceda, Amity has told us relatively little, but I have heard some of you, I hope you can enlighten me somewhat this evening," Alador says, folding his hands behind his back as he looks down at her with stern, but curious gold eyes.

"Oh, well, I'll try." Luz smiles, unsure. She isn't sure what he's heard, hopefully, nothing too bad.

He nods, seemingly satisfied with her answer, for now.

A woman chose that moment to walk out of the kitchen and announce dinner was ready. Odalia nods.

"Sia, please take Miss Noceda's cloak, and put these in some water," The Blight matriarch tells the woman, handing her the flowers. She nods and walks over. Luz unclasps it and hands it to her.

"Thanks" she smiles at her. She looks at Luz curiously but gives a little nod.

With that, Alador and Odalia walk toward the dining room, and the twins both give her a thumbs-up as they follow.

She looks at Amity who smiles at her before they follow.

Alador sits at the head of the table, Odalia at the other and the twins on the left, Edric next to their father, and Amity and Luz sit next to each other on the right, with Luz sitting to the patriarchs right.

Luz wipes her hands on the legs of her pants as she glances at the table settings, it looks just like how Lilith had it set up at home, but the plates are a clean, shiny white, lacking and chips or worn away paint like Eda’s, and all the silverware matches. She follows Amity’s lead and takes the dark green napkin off her plate and sets it in her lap. She keeps them there nervously as she glances around at the dining hall. She’s been to Blight Manor twice now, but really only the living room and Amity’s room. The dining room is large and spacious, decorated in dark woods and gold embellishments that Luz can only guess is the current fashion of the Isles, or maybe it’s just Blight style; questions to ask Amity later.

She can feel Odalia’s eyes on her and tenses up as those olive-colored eyes judge her silently, but then there are fingers prodding gently at her hand in her lap, and without looking, turns it over to lace her fingers with her girlfriends under the table. Amity squeezes it comfortingly, for her and for herself, thumb running over her knuckles.

The same house staff from before comes out of the kitchen and sets the trays of food in the middle of the table and anxiety shoots through Luz.

She had been so busy thinking about the people at the dinner she hadn't thought about the food itself, she doesn't recognize anything on the table and is suddenly very worried about it.

After her incident with the numberries, she doesn't trust strange foods, and if ever there was a horrible place for her to have some kind of reaction it's here, having dinner with her girlfriend's parents for the first time.

Luckily she's never had any kind of reaction to meats, only plants, but she knows enough to know that it would be rude to only eat the meat, so she just has to hope, hope that at least if something happens it's something she can hide, like a rash. A trip out like the one had on the mountain would be the end of their relationship for certain.

The serving of food goes rather smoothly, the stuff Lilith had taught her about which way to pass and to offer things actually coming in handy. She’s actually thought that silly, but as she discreetly watches the Blights, that’s exactly what they’re doing.

It's only after they start eating that the oppressive, to Luz anyway, silence is broken by Alador.

"Miss. Noceda, Amity tells us you take all nine tracks at Hexside," he starts, looking at Luz, who looks back up with a mouthful and quickly swallows her barely chewed food and wipes her face like Lilith instructed.

"Yes, sir." Luz nods.

"Traditionally, students take one track to focus on so they may join that coven upon graduation. What coven would you be planning to join?" He looks at her curiously.

Luz knows to not say she doesn't plan to join one, since it's against the law not to, so she decides on another route, lying. Eda would be proud.

"Probably potions, since it’s my strongest subject,” she says and he nods.

“Amity mentioned you were the top student in the potions track, an impressive feat, especially for someone lacking a traditional aptitude for magic,” he says, carefully cutting his meat.

“Thank you.” Luz thinks this conversation is going well if the way Amity is squeezing her hand gently is anything to go by.

'you're doing great' is the silent message.

“From where on the Isles are you from? I find it strange that it’s only recently that we’ve heard of you.” It’s Odalia’s turn to ask a question. it has a certain edge to it that Luz can’t pinpoint, and she can’t decipher her girlfriends' suddenly harder squeezing or the twin’s glances, so she simply answers truthfully. She’s just going to have to roll the dice some tonight.

“I don’t, I came from the human realm, through a portal for the summer.”

“Summer has been over for some time, surely by now, your own family must be missing you?” Odalia asks, Luz is sure the question does not come from any kind of concern. It has a fake syrupiness to it that, had she not been paying attention, she would have missed, but she’s heard enough about Amity’s mother to know to be on edge and listen for the double meaning in everything.

“I’m sure my mom misses me, but the portal was destroyed in a… accident, so now I live with my mentor, near Bonesburough,” she explains, glossing over the whole, fighting the Emperor and destroying the portal bit. Odalia hums but offers nothing else.

“And how do you find life in the Isles compared to the human realm?” Alador asks curiously.

“Exciting, there’s no magic in the human realm, but dangerous, mostly.” She can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, the Isles certainly have their fair share of dangers, and potions don’t offer much in the way of offensive magic.”

“No, but I’ve learned a lot of spells I can fight with, I’ve probably done too much fighting with them,” she admits and Amity gently pinches her leg under the table, a warning to not say much more about her far too frequent battles. None of them would help them here.

Aladror sets his fork gently on his empty plate and regards her.

“Amity showed us some of your magic. A light spell, I was unaware you possessed any for more, offensive purposes.”

“A few, yeah.”

“We used some at Grom, to defeat Grometheus,” Amity speaks up and her father looks at her, eyebrows ticking upward at that.

“Splattered him into little chunks,” Edric speaks up and Emira nods.

Grometheus could be a rather formidable opponent, Alador was even more intrigued now.

“I’m rather curious about the capability of these glyphs, perhaps you would indulge me with a demonstration?” he asks, ignoring the pointed look his wife is sending him.

Like Luz could say no.

“Sure, I can show you some, what did you have in mind?”

“A witch’s duel,” he says, and had she been chewing, she would have choked. Edric is and does, while Emira looks at their father with wide eyes. Odalia is giving him a surreptitiously annoyed look behind her wine glass, seeming to know exactly what he’s thinking, and maybe she does.

Amity’s, eyes are wide and her hand is squeezing her thigh in a death grip, the message crystal clear.

‘DON’T’ it begs.

But Luz is no coward, and she came here with a mission objective, to impress the parents, and she isn’t going to do that by turning down the challenge. If she can impress Alador Blight with her magic then she’s going to seize the opportunity.

“Sure.” she nods.

Now Emira and Edric are looking at her from across the table like she’s lost her mind. Maybe, she has. Maybe, she’s just that crazy in love with Amity, and she’ll do anything to keep her, even at the risk of being killed by their dad. Odalia is also looking at her curiously, maybe trying to decide if she’s really that dumb or just ignorant.

“Splendid, come.” Alador smiles and stands from the table. Luz squeezes Amity’s hand under the table before she stands.

‘Don’t worry’

Dinner was over anyway as she followed him, along with the rest of the Blight family to the backyard.

He holds up a finger and a deep magenta spell circle appears and the backyard is lit up.

“This, of course, will be a mock battle. I’d like to see how your glyph magic works in practice against one of my abominations,” he tells her as they walk into the middle of the yard, the family remaining on the stone porch, and Luz relaxes some at that, so he wasn’t just trying to murder her. She knows she probably wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a real duel

“Ah, yeah, let's do it!” She grins, holding up a fist, and Alador smiles at her. Luz's grin does not last, as he spins a finger and a nine-foot-tall abomination rises from the ground to tower over her.

'Mierda'

“Okay then...” Luz turns serious, rolling up her sleeves, and pulls a few of her cards from her pocket.

“Are you prepared?” he asks.

“Ready.” Luz nods shoulders tense and knees bent.

The abomination dashed forward, and it’s much faster than Amity’s, where her girlfriends are sluggish, his runs. She barely manages to jump back out of the way as its fist crashed into the dirt, leaving a divot in the yard.

‘Okay, don’t get hit!’ is Luz’s prevailing thought.

Odalia sighs from the porch.

“I’m going to have to call the gardener back tomorrow…,” she mumbles to herself.

Amity bites her lip, fists clenched so hard her knuckles are turning white. Of all the different ways she had envisioned dinner going, this had never been one of them. Luz was going to get herself killed! Even if this was a mock battle for her father, he was still much more powerful than Luz.

Luz slaps a glyph to the ground and vines erupt from the ground, a few impaling the abomination and another growing up beneath her feet and lifting her out of its reach. The vines slow it, but then gelatinous body parts around them and reforms. It’s trying to climb up the vines toward her. She flings several fire spells at it, and it blows into a few large chunks.

“Whoo”

“Go, Luz!”

The twins cheer for her from the porch, despite their mother’s withering look.

Before she can even think to celebrate, the chunks slide across the yard and congeal back into a solid creature. It grabs the vine she’s perched on and starts violently shaking it, trying to fling Luz from them. She just barely hangs on while activating another plant glyph that snakes to the ground, letting her slide down to the grass, but she’s not any safer, back within the creature’s range, but she knows now what she needs to do.

She fires off another round of fire spells, blowing it back apart. She just needs a second. She pulls her pen from her pocket and starts rapidly drawing across the exposed skin of her arm. She manages to finish and tap it just as the creature is on her again.

Then, she’s gone.

The illusion glyph on her arm, turning her invisible. The glyph itself is still visible, but she knows for a fact that abomination’s don’t have the keenest sight, and it certainly can’t see the thin black lines that seem to float in the air. The creature looks around, groaning as she runs across the yard to put some distance between herself and it. Once she’s far enough away she pulls a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and quickly opens it, laying it in the grass, the paper is very much visible, so she breaks the circle on her arm and becomes visible once more.

It sees her and is quickly crossing the yard toward her. She waits till it’s nearly on her and slams a hand to the glyph and a portal blazes to life across the ground and she jumps in.

The abomination stops, looking down at the portal, confused, then a second portal opens above its head and Luz falls out with a loud battle cry, papers in hand.

She lands on its head and starts plastering as many glyphs as she can to it, it reaches up to grab her but before it can wrap a slimy hand around her, ice erupts from the many glyphs as Luz jumps off, hitting the ground with a thump, and rolling across the dirt, but quickly popping back up in time to watch as ice encase the abomination solid, becoming the world's ugliest ice sculpture.

Alador raised an arm, fingers twitching, but his abomination can’t move, it’s frozen solid.

Luz is victorious.

“That was so cool!”

“That was awesome, Luz!” The twins jog over along with Amity.

“Are you okay?” Amity is suddenly next to her, looking her over and she grins, some of her hair has fallen in her face but she quickly slicks it back into place.

“I’m fine, Amity.” She smiles reassuringly as her girlfriend pats away the grass and dirt from her clothes.

“You’re so reckless,” she hisses under her breath, glaring at her, but Luz can see the worry shining in her eyes. She grabs the hands brushing the dust from her clothes and gives a brief squeeze before dropping them.

“Very impressive, Miss. Noceda, truly,” Alador says as he walks over, spinning a finger and the abomination melts away along with the ice.

"Thanks!" She grins, standing proudly.

Mrs. Blight watches with a frown from the porch.

"I have a book in my study about ancient magics that I have personally never been able to glean much from, perhaps you would like to have a look?" he asks, Amity is surprised by this, few people are ever invited into her father's study.

"Oh, yes, please!" She grins, excited and he nods.

He turns, but pauses and looks at his daughter, who hasn't moved. "You as well, Amity, I certainly wouldn't wish to monopolize our guest, least of all from you," he says and heads toward the house. She looks up, blinking before she smiles and Luz grins at her.

"Come on, I don't think we're supposed to keep him waiting," Luz says and Amity chuckles, shaking her head as they follow her father to his study.

The twins and Odalia don't come to the study with them. Luz can sense there's some kind of dynamic going on here, but she hasn't quite figured it out. Alador clearly is in charge of the family, but Amity talks about him the least of her parents.

When they enter the room, she looks around at the tall bookshelves, filled to bursting.

"Quiet space filled with books…, you are a lot like your dad," Luz chuckles quietly, making Amity's cheeks pink. If Alador hears this he gives no indication, other than the twitching of his mouth.

He pulls a book off a shelf and it looks positively ancient as he holds it out to Luz.

“The chapter I’ve marked in particular is about abomination magic, it offers very little in terms of theory as it is taught today, it only speaks of the magics of the wilds and learning from the Isles.”

She opened it up and it’s filled with the same, indistinguishable writing from the other book Amity gave her that she’s been oh so slowly learning to decipher with Lilith’s help.

She carefully flips through the pages and spots some drawings that look very glyph like. She sets the book on his desk and digs her pad out of her pocket and carefully copies it down.

‘Please don’t let me blow up his office…’ Luz thinks as she taps it. It glows a dark purple and then a tiny abomination is looking up at her from the desktop.

“Abomination summoning glyph!” Luz breathed, grinning down at the tiny abomination that looked back at her with it’s tiny, glowing, yellow eyes. “Umm, how do I make it… do stuff?” She glanced at her girlfriend over her shoulder as she stepped up to the desk, still looking at the tiny abomination with wide eyes.

“It should be connected to your consciousness by magic… but since you don’t have a bile sac, I’m not sure,” she admits.

“You are its summoner,” Aladror says, and they look up, almost forgetting he was there. “Assert your will over it,” he says.

Luz hums, and blinks back at her little summoned creature and holds out a hand to it and does as she’s been told, she wills it to climb into her hand, and after a second, it does, albeit a little shakily at first.

Luz squeals, holding it up to her face.

“It’s so cute… for a goop monster, I mean.” she grins, turning to Amity.

“You finally made your first, complete abomination.” She grinned back excitedly.

“A tad on the small side, but Amity’s first abomination barely reached her knee.” Alador stroked his beard as he observed the six-inch tall muck creature standing in Luz’s hand. Amity blushed at that.

Alador seems to be much more openly curious about her magic after she summons the tiny abomination from the book in the glyph and asks her some questions she is only too happy to answer and she talks animatedly about some of her adventures in discovering glyphs, carefully omitting the parts that paint her in a bad light, like the part about borrowing Amity’s wand and accidentally shooting a Slitherbeast with a fire spell and almost getting her mentor and his two oldest children eaten by said monster.

It feels like she talks for a long time, but Alador seems to be listening intently, occasionally asking questions she can sometimes answer and sometimes can’t, while Amity adds her own bits and commentary, as well as groaning or rolling her eyes at her at all the appropriate times, and then the clock on the study wall chimed ten times, making Alador look up.

“I was unaware it had grown so late.” Alador stood from his desk chair. “You both have classes tomorrow and Miss. Noceda’s mentor is probably waiting for her.” He walked around the desk, shutting the several books he had and the two girls had been going through.

“Ah, right. I should get home.”

He leads them back out into the living room where the twins have been sitting with their mother, who rises when they reappear.”

“Sia, please bring our guests' cloak,” he calls into the kitchen and a moment later the woman returns with the black material, and Luz thanks her and wraps it around her shoulders as the Blight parents and Amity walk her to the door, where she collects her staff

She steps out onto the porch before turning to smile at them. Remembering what Lilith told her to do when she left.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Blight, dinner was great.”

“A pleasure, Miss. Noceda.” Alador gives a curt nod.

“Have a pleasant evening,” Odalia says.

“Goodnight, Luz.” Amity smiles at her in that soft adoring way that always makes Luz’s stomach turn to knots and she smiled as Owlbert’s wings flapped open.

“See you tomorrow, Amity.” She hops off the porch, onto the staff, and then is flying across the yard and over the gate.

"An interesting girl," Alador finally says after Luz has disappeared from sight and she and her parents moved back into the living room where her siblings are sitting on the couch, whispering to each other until they reappear. They sit up and look at them.

The suspense is killing her and she speaks up.

"So, can I... keep seeing, Luz?" Amity asks tentatively, drawing her father's gaze.

She and the twins wait on bated breath.

"Blight's only associate with the strongest of witchlings…, " he says as he looks at her, and Amity feels sick. She's heard those words before.

"... and humans," he adds. Amity sucks in a breath. "Your girlfriend is rather formidable for one so young, and knowledgeable in ancient magics, I'm impressed." He runs a hand through his beard thoughtfully. "If you wish, you may continue to see her," he says, not at all missing the way her face lights up with joy before she closes the short distance to hug him. He blinks, surprised for a moment before smiling gently at her and patting the top of her head.

Alador glances at his wife, who looks less than pleased, but he doubts she will protest, she fully believes that this romance of their daughters is a fleeting, doomed, affair already that will absolve itself in due time.

Time will tell.

Amity pulls back, trying to school her features into something calmer, but cannot for the life of her keep the smile off her face.

"Thank you, father."

He nods and turns towards the hall.

"I will be in my study, Miss Noceda gave me much to think about," he says before walking away. Her mother glances at her before sighing silently to herself and follows him.

Amity lets a smile break out across her face and then her siblings are wrapped around her, squishing their faces against hers, both grinning madly.

"Alright, Mittens!"

"Luz did it!"

Her smile breaks into a giddy grin. She did, she really did. Luz did what she thought impossible, she impressed her father and they were now free to openly date.

"I have to tell her!" She spells her scroll into existence, but Emira stops her.

"She's probably still flying home, give it a little bit so she doesn't fall off her staff mid-flight," she laughs.

Her sister is right. She'll wait a little bit, she's just so happy.

~ Luz is exhausted when she gets home, both from playing dinner party and her tumble off papa Blight’s abomination.

Eda is sprawled out across the couch, snoring when she walks in.” She smiles and twists Owlbert off the top of the staff, he hoots happily at her and nuzzles her cheek before he joins her, while Luz sets the staff in the corner and goes quickly and quietly upstairs.

She hangs her cloak back on its hanger and kicks off her shoes but instead of getting in bed, she opens the window and sets herself on the sill.

She sighs and loosens her tie, popping the top button that’s been sitting snug across her throat.

She’s exhausted and has school tomorrow, but more importantly, still has no idea how dinner went and whether or not she can still see her girlfriend. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, she did her best, the rest was out of her hands.

A few minutes later her scroll began to ring inside her pocket.

She dug it out and saw her contact photo of a smiling Amity on the front, wanting to video chat.

She quickly hit the button and she can see her girlfriend’s absolutely giddy face, smiling back at her from her bed.

“Luz, you are amazing!” is the first thing Amity says to her. “My dad said we can keep dating!” Luz grins broadly at the news, some of her exhaustion melting away to make room for elation.

“Yes!” Luz is grinning stupidly into her scroll. “I was afraid I got carried away there for a while, telling him stories,” she admitted.

“I think he really liked you. I can’t remember the last time he invited a guest into his study,” she tells her. “That being said, I don’t think my mom did…I don’t think she can see anything other then that you’re human.” she frowned, and Luz shrugged.

“Can’t win em’ all, right?” She didn’t need Amity to tell her Odalia Blight didn’t like her, she was an expert at telling when she was not liked.

“Right, the important thing is we can be together.” Amity smiled. So long as her father was on board, her mother wouldn’t say anything, not outwardly anyway.

“Yeah,” Luz smiled back.

“I need to go to bed, and so do you,” she said in a scolding voice that made Luz chuckle.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she laughed. “Goodnight, Amity. I love you,” she said, watching as Amity smiled at her in that certain way, gold eyes soft and warm, lids low.

“Good night, Luz, I love you too.” She blows her a kiss and Luz grins.

The call ended and Luz smiled to herself as she looked out her window as the moonlight bounced off the sea.

“Totally worth it,” she mumbled, hopping out of the window and shutting it.

#Moonlit Masquerade #lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Eda Clawthorne #Lilith clawthorne #Alador Blight #Odalia Blight #Edric Blight #Emira Blight #Gus Porter #Willow Park #fic #the owl house #toh #gay

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captain-emmajones · 4 years ago

Text

Love, Emma (1/7)

(Art by the wonderful @carpedzem <3)

Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014).

Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They've always been -- until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn't know what. Until she does. He's fallen in love with someone else.

And then, suddenly, they're kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.

Killian and Emma will dance around each other, until their heads spin and their legs hurt, and everything becomes blurry and it has to stop – for both of their sake.

Title and lyrics are from Taylor Swift’s Mirrorball -- which clearly inspired the mood of this chapter. Had it on loop while writing, so if you feel like it, do try to listen to it while reading!

A huge thank you to @profdanglaisstuff who beta’d this and gave me her precious thoughts <3

Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 6000 words - ao3

Part 2 - AUGUST , Part 3 - HOAX, Part 4 - PEACE, Part 5 - THIS IS ME TRYING, Part 6 - CARDIGAN , Part 7 - INVISIBLE STRING

PART 1 - MIRRORBALL.

Emma clutches Ingrid’s yellow irises against her chest – almost too strongly, she might be bruising the inside of her fingers.

As she stares at the Arrival Board in front of her, she couldn’t care less for her own skin. The beat of her heart is drumming in her ears, and she is pretty certain oxygen is having a very hard time reaching her lungs.

Her right eyelid twitches. She wasn’t able to get any sleep last night, inhabited by a very childlike enthusiasm at the thought of seeing her friend again.

A breath of relief escapes Emma’s throat as the light next to Portsmouth changes color.

“He has landed,” she whispers to herself, flowers still pressed to her chest.

She is too engulfed in her surroundings to notice she’s damaging the flowers. Ingrid is definitely going to kill her for butchering her favorite bush. She doesn’t care.

He should be here any time now. Her heart skips another beat and really, it’ll be a miracle if she is still standing on her feet by the time he reaches her.

Gazing all around her, she suddenly notices the large window in front of her that gives away a blurry reflection of her body. Emma frowns. One hand reluctantly gives up on the flowers to comb her hair.

You’re combing your hair for Killian, of all people, snorts her inner voice. But Emma is too happy to pay attention to her pride.

He’s been gone for nine months now, since last September. Has been going all around the world with the Navy, and she is proud of him. He did the right thing. (Even it meant leaving her behind.)

Emma has never known what it feels like to miss someone before she missed him. Being brought up as a foster kid, she hasn’t had anyone to miss for the longest time.

She’s bouncing up and down on her feet by now, anxiety shaking her legs.

Ingrid welcomed her in Storybrooke on her twelfth birthday. It was the best thing that ever happened to her. It allowed her to meet the brothers Jones – their orphan neighbors. Liam became Killian’s legal guardian when their father died.

The crowd of people around her brings Emma back to the present. More people gather together, and Emma understands they are all just as eager to see their loved ones as she is.

She cannot wait anymore. Her palm hurt around the cut flowers. Another few minutes go by, and time is painfully slow. She clenches her jaw. Unclenches it. Takes a look at the clock in front of her. Come on, relax, Emma.

And then, there he is.

“Killian!” The excited scream escapes her throat without her consent, a brutal wave of bliss sweeping her off her feet. She doesn’t hold it back.

He hasn’t changed one bit, or he isn’t the same at all. She doesn’t care. She only cares for the sweet hue of blue that meets her eyes and smiles in recognition.

“Emma!” He mirrors her happy scream.

Her heart beams as they run towards each other, and she throws herself intohis arms as soon as she reaches him. (By then, the flowers are to be respectfully buried and missed.)

She wraps her arms around his neck, and her senses are filled by him – his smell, a strong cologne she isn’t familiar with, his skin under her fingers, his tousled black hair that is suddenly very kept, the beginning of a scruff against her cheeks, the strength of his arms around her chest, and when did he get this tall?

“I missed you,” she exhales against his cheek, and holds him tighter. She is very unwilling to let him go now that she has him.

She hears a chuckle against her ear, and it is the most wonderful sound she has heard in those last pitiful nine months.

“I missed you, too, Swan.”

A tear rolls down her cheek at the nickname – it’s been so long and her world has been so bleak without him and she’s never known this kind of homesickness – and she realizes just how wet her eyes have become. She’s never cried from happiness before, but tears are rushing down her cheeks without her consent.

His grip becomes tighter around her waist, and then he slowly lets go. She does not expect him to let go first. She profoundly inhales to chase down a feeling of fear deep within her throat and backs away, her hands still around his neck.

Staring at him after all this time seems to stir something really odd within herself and her breath gets caught in her chest. She didn’t remember him this handsome. Did his nose always look this elegant, and have his lips always been this bright pink, and why are his eyes the color of the sea?

And then she remembers the flowers crushed between her clumsy hands.

One finger tracing the scar on his cheek, she shoves the bouquet against his chest. “That’s for you,” she smiles and her fingers cannot seem to let go of his face.

“Swan,” his eyes are so kind over her gift, she can tell he is really happy about them, although their lives were cut short in their prime, “thank you so much. They are my fav—”

“—favorite, I know! That’s why I got them for you.” And she smiles, harder, her cheeks hurt but she cannot bring herself to stop.

She ignores as well as she can the alarm ringing in her head. Why is he not touching her? What’s wrong? Did she get ugly while he was away? He was always touching her, before.

“Aye,” he grins, and then relief – his palm is over her cheeks and something incredibly tender and innocent blooms in her chest. She sighs, leans in his touch. She’s missed him so much. “Shall we go, Swan?”

She picks up the bag he let go of to hold her while he very gracefully carries the flowers. Surely he wouldn’t have damaged them. Killian is very careful not to damage anything ever.

“Sure thing. Welcome home, Killian,” and before her arm finds his, she’s bold enough to press her lips against his scruffy cheek.

She lingers there longer than intended, longer than what is reasonable and appropriate.

The glint she catches in his eyes when she backs away triggers something painful in her. She swallows it down. (Why did he look embarrassed? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They are friends.)

But then, they are walking down the airport like old times, and surely she must be thinking too much – as per usual.

She is so glad to have him back, she ignores very meticulously all of the signs telling her Killian might not be as happy to be back. (To be with her.)

She’s holding a watering can while he delicately drops flowers – pink roses – on Liam’s tombstone. She watches him frown, fingers caressing the marble with care and something else – anger.

She swallows. This wound is still very fresh. It’s been a year.

She pours some water on the plant she brought last month – a gorgeous, bright pink bush of flowers, and she quickly puts it down on the grass to hold his hand.

His eyes flash in surprise and she offers him a smile – why is he surprised? Emma never liked to be touched before, before he touched her. She chases down the feeling once again and holds his fingers tighter in her hands. I am not letting you go.

The sun is shining. It’s such a bright summer day. The air is not too warm, just warm enough to feel comfortable wearing a t-shirt, and a gentle breeze that carries summer smells brushes their cheeks.

It was also a wonderful summer day – the day Liam died. Her brows furrow. Last summer had been the best weather they had had in Maine for years.

“He would be proud of you,” she whispers, desperate to make him feel better.

She is aware there is not much she can do to help him fight this darkness that swallowed him alive. She is still willing to try.

“Would he?” He echoes back, and she does not recognize the bitterness she hears in his voice.

For the first time since she has known Killian Jones, Emma feels like she’s missing something. A piece of the puzzle to understand him. She feels like perhaps she does not know him as well as she thinks.

She would have taken a step back with anyone else. But with him, she playfully bumps her shoulder against his, fighting back her inner instincts. He got tall, and bulkier – only in a good way.

“Of course. You joined the Navy to make him proud, didn’t you?”

For the first time in ages, she really is asking him a question.

He’s been back for a month now, and his scruff is prominent over his face. She likes it. He looks manly. She thinks he knows he looks manlier.

She still looks like a teenage girl, with her long blonde hair and her freckles and her frail body, and she still wears sneakers with her dresses (when she wears them). And he looks so much older.

“Aye, I guess so. Thank you, Swan,” he smiles at her, his hand brushing her cheek, but somehow he is miles away.

She presses her lips against each other, firmly. There are pebbles in her belly. He put them there.

“Anytime, Killian,” she smiles, and in a desperate attempt to bring him back to her, she presses another kiss to his cheek.

He steps away quicker than she expects him. A cold breath reaches her lips in spite of the agreeable weather.

Another smile. She’s suffocating.

“Okay, so then after dinner we could finally go to a club!” She’s standing in the middle of her room, arms swung up towards the ceiling of her childhood bedroom.

Killian is chewing on a strawberry bubblegum, lying on her bed. He hasn’t let go of his phone all afternoon.

“As you wish, Swan. It’s your birthday, after all.”

Can’t he look a bit more involved? A very childish anger burns her tongue as her hands find her hips in disapproval.

“Exactly! Which is why I’m going to ask you to look a little bit more enthusiastic, Killian Jones.”

She doesn’t mean to sound this harsh but she does anyway. At least, that gets him to look up from his phone, and she sees a glint of regret pass in his eyes. A smile finally cracks his face.

“You’re right, Swan. Forgive me. I’m just a bit concerned by something but don’t worry, I’m all ears now.”

She hates herself for how quickly she kneels in front of him, on her pink carpeted floor that she hates but Ingrid tried her best to make her feel at home.

Even more for the way she grabs his hands, pouring her soul into his eyes.

“I can tell you’re not really here, Killian.” She pauses, watches as he raises one eyebrow – it isn’t what she expected but it isn’t mean either, “And I want you to know there’s nothing you cannot tell me.”

She’s so naïve. She means every word.

He nods. Her eyes look down at his lips. She wants to kiss him. But she cannot – not when he’s still miles away from her, still stuck in Portsmouth.

“I know that, love,” something blooms in her chest. He hasn’t called her love in a year now, “Don’t worry, I’m quite alright.”

He lies. It’s the first time he’s lied to her about something important since she’s known him.

Fear captures her heart. It’s green, and viscous, and it drips on everything she holds dear.

He’s slipping between her fingers. She’s losing him. She cannot lose him.

She’s the one lying on his bed while he takes a shower when she sees her message. She doesn’t mean to, really. But his phone vibrates on his bedside table, and she only glances at it out of curiosity.

She sees it. M. Who is M?

She rolls on her belly, glances at the closed door of his bathroom, and reads the message, heart drumming in her ears.

“I know, baby. Rumple is driving me crazy too. But it will all be worth it, soon. I promise. Just hold on to our love.”

Something rings in her ears, it’s painful, it spreads from her liver and all the way up to her mouth, and she cannot see anymore, and her birthday is tomorrow and he is in love with someone else.

It takes her a lot of strength then, to roll back on her back, to try and make herself comfortable again between his pillows and his smell – in spite of the rigidity in her bones and this feeling of utter disgust in her mouth. She holds on to the silver bracelet around her wrist - the one Killian offered Emma for her eighteenth birthday, last year.

So many questions bounce in her mind, but one fact absolutely obliterates her. He doesn’t want to confide in her anymore. He is clearly struggling with this Rumple, and this M, and he doesn’t want her help.

The bathroom door swings open and steam invades his bedroom as he steps out, wet hair and big grin. She knows the grin will remain but will become a mere theatrical performance once he reads the message. She doesn’t want him to read it. She wants to keep him to herself.

“Ready for that ice-cream, Swan?” he attacks right away, all charms out. When did he get this charming? When did he become aware of his charms?

“Always ready for some rocky road,” she answers back, and she’s surprised to hear her own voice calm and collected.

Perhaps she is growing up, too. She used to be a terrible liar. But that’s what they do, now, apparently.

His smell fills her lungs, and it’s the one of her childhood – peppermint, and something muskier, and him.

“Emma, you won’t forget to take care of the garden –” exclaims Ingrid as they’re about to leave her ice-cream shop.

She squints her eyes. Fuck. Exactly what she wanted to avoid.

“Sure thing, Ingrid,” she mumbles, before taking Killian’s arm in her hers and guiding them both out of her shop.

Emma swallows a scream of injustice. That’s her punishment for stealing the flowers for Killian.

“Flowers are not meant to be picked. They’re meant to be cared for, admired, but not picked, Emma.”

Emma didn’t tell her what’s the use of having flowers if you cannot offer them to someone you love but she did stare at her with a lot of defiance.

Rocky Road has never tasted this wrong in her mouth, as they sit outside of Granny’s, on the warm concrete. It’s burning her naked thighs, but it still doesn’t suck as much as the way Killian stares at his phone – just like she expected him to. He’s waiting for M to answer him.

Emma wants to tell him he can confide in her but clearly he doesn’t want to. And it’s one of the strongest pain she’s ever felt – it’s a wicked, wicked pain that spreads from her heart to her pride and slays every inch of her good feelings.

She keeps licking her ice-cream, eyes locked to the road.

Her birthday is tomorrow. On the twenty-first, the first day of summer. She waits for summer all year, waits for the special moments she knows she’ll spend with Killian.

Only, this year, Killian doesn’t seem as happy to spend them with her.

Thankfully, Ingrid’s Rocky Road is still the best thing in town.

As she gets ready for her birthday party, Emma figures out she has nothing to lose. She decides to play all of her cards.

She’s staring at herself in the mirror while pop music plays in the background.

She hates her round cheeks and her slender body that refuses to give her the big chest boys seem to be so fond of. She’s frowning as she examines her features meticulously.

She usually doesn’t wear makeup, if not for a bit of mascara. It’s the only thing she’s comfortable with wearing on her face. As for her clothes, Emma is a jeans and sneakers kind of gal. Her only accessory is Killian's bracelet - and it doesn't count, because by now it is part of her.

She didn’t use to mind. It’s who she is. But since she’s seen M’s contact photo – she really didn’t mean to intrude, it just appeared when she tried to call him – Emma has become more self-conscious. (Terribly so).

M has long back curls and red lips, and she’s a woman. Not a girl like her. Her eyes are blue but they’re not timid, they shine sure and knowing and her smile is confident.

Emma hates her freckles. She looks like she’s twelve.

Tentatively, she brushes her blond eyebrows – just like she’s seen Ingrid do. It doesn’t make much of a difference and she muffles a dramatic sigh, frowning.

Killian will never find her pretty ever again.

That night, she also tip toes to Ingrid’s room to borrow some lady-like perfume. Emma only likes to use a very natural ginger fragrance – her smell but a bit better.

She winces. She hates the too-sweet, too-flowery smell that wraps itself around her body. Whatever. Killian must like that.

She’s nineteen tonight. The only teen year left of her life. She better make the most of it. (If Killian does not tell her about his mysterious girlfriend who’s far too beautiful for her to compete with, then she can’t really be doing something wrong, can she?)

She eyes the different dresses spread on the pink blanket of her bed. (Ingrid is very committed to pink.)

At her feet, the only pair of heels she could find in her wardrobe. They are small, black squared heels but really they’ll do the trick. They will have to at least.

Hands on her hips, she settles for the pink, light dress. It’s not her favorite color, but the fabric is very soft and fits her small waist like a glove. The lower part of the dress is flowy and ends well above her knees. Emma knows her legs are long and toned and she wants to show them off tonight.

To finish the look, she ties her hair in a high ponytail to get her hair off her face. Ingrid has always told her to.

As she eyes herself in her mirror, she thinks she looks pretty. She smiles at her reflection, her earrings glinting.

She glances at the big clock on her wall. 8:15. Killian should be here anytime, now.

Her heart beats faster, thinking of him.

She smiles, grabs her bag and goes down the stairs of Ingrid’s house. It already smells like dinner time, and it should comfort her, but it does not. She catches Ingrid’s surprised eyes in the kitchen.

“What do you think?” Emma asks, and it’s the first time she asks for Ingrid’s opinion on her appearance, but well –

Ingrid lets go of the tomato she is expertly cutting to stare at her. Her mouth slightly opens. And Emma swears she sees something very gentle sparkle in her green eyes.

“I think you look beautiful, Emma.” Ingrid’s smile is very tender over her figure, and something weird clenches Emma’s heart.

She simply smiles back. “Thanks, Ingrid. Don’t wait for me tonight, Killian and I are going to party!”

She almost runs to the door when she hears him knock. She tries to remain as composed and adult as possible, and instead calmly walk there. (Her feet are already killing her and her legs are stiff. This is going to be hell.)

She opens the door to discover him in a white shirt and black suit, and with a bouquet of yellow irises.

“Those ones I did not steal from Ingrid,” he smiles, his eyes glinting over her figure, and she could swear he likes what he sees, and her toes curl in her shoes and a very sweet heat invades her face, “Happy birthday, Emma,” he grins, and then she cannot hold herself back and wraps her arms around his neck.

She loves how her feet leave the floor for just a moment, as he spins her around, and she feels like they’re immortal.

“Thank you, Killian”, she murmurs against his cheek, presses a long kiss there, and intertwines their fingers together.

She thinks her crush is showing but really, as he glances at her body in her dress and climbs back to her face – a really lovely pink hue over his cheeks, and perhaps is pink not such a bad color – she doesn’t care.

She’s quick to put down the flowers on Ingrid’s kitchen counter, “Please take care of them!”, before disappearing in the night with her friend.

They pay all due respect to their Birthday tradition and go eat a grilled cheese at Granny’s. Granny’s give them a knowing look as they sit on the terrace outside. The old woman eyes Killian’s hand on the small of Emma’s back just as Emma feels it sending sparks up her spine.

They look like a couple, she’s sure of it, and the thought makes her feel giddy.

As they sit outside, by the lanterns and the Storybrooke sign, it feels like Killian never left.

“Remember when you were thirteen and I had to get you out of a bloody bin, Emma, just because you didn’t want to face Ingrid—”

“Hey!” Her scream isn’t really one and she’s waving an onion ring at him, “It’s my birthday, be nice to me.” And she rolls her eyes and he waggles his brows, and everything is right in the world.

His phone is still on the table, but face down. He is all eyes on her and she is very much pleased. (Even when it rings, once, twice, until Killian turns it off and she sighs in relief.)

“You’re very beautiful tonight, Swan,” he tells her as she finishes her grilled cheese.

And she hates him for saying so when her hands are wrapped around the greasy sandwich, and there’s probably cheese in the corners of her mouth, and strings of hair have fallen in front of her eyes – but she smiles.

“Thank you,” something warm and sunny blooms in her chest, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

She sees his eyes go wider, and she realizes he mustn’t have expected to say something back.

She keeps smiling. She feels an unfamiliar confidence take hold of her, straighten her spine and push her to grab his hand, on the table.

He glances at their knuckles but he doesn’t back away, and that must be good.

Finally, he waggles his brows and lets a small chuckle escape his lips. “Eat up, Swan. Before your favorite meal gets cold.”

She thinks then that she’s been touching him with her greasy fingers, and clearly that’s a mistake M wouldn’t have made, but… but he didn’t seem to mind. And his cheeks are red again. And that must be good, right?

They walk down to the only club in town – one down the beach. Storybrooke is a small town, but their fake IDs should be enough to get in.

Her feet are quite literally killing her, so when Killian offers that they walk in the sand instead, she happily complies. (She thinks he saw her suffering.)

It’s a full moon above them, and its reflection on the tender waves that come crashing at their feet is breathtaking. He is walking slightly ahead of her, but just now she doesn’t mind.

A sea breeze tangles her hair. She is happy.

“Hey, Swan,” he finally turns around to face her, and he is very handsome, and she realizes he has been carrying a plastic bottle in his bag. “Want some?” he asks her in a cheeky tone.

Her heart skips a beat in her chest. It’s not the first time Killian and she have gotten drunk together – and usually it ends with both of them asleep in one of their beds and a terrible headache the next morning.

(Killian’s always been her only true friend. Sure, she’s sympathized with Mary Margaret and Ruby at school – but they don’t get her like he does.)

“Hell yes,” she exclaims and stretches her hand to grab the bottle. “Cheaper to get drunk now than in the club.”

“Aye, that’s the spirit, Swan.”

She guesses he must have gotten drunk several times, this past year, without her. She figures he is grown up in all of the possible meanings of the word. It scares her, to think he’s going on without her. That’s he is already ahead of her, and she cannot quite catch up. She probably never will.

The bottle’s neck meets her lips, and it’s a pretty well done mix of vodka and fruit juice that she tastes against her tongue, and she wishes she were kissing him instead.

She takes several big gups, wincing as alcohol burns her throat and abandons a pleasing warmth in her chest.

“Careful, Swan. This isn’t only fruit juice.” She wipes her mouth as she hands him the bottle over.

“Oh come on, Killian. It’s my birthday, let me have some fun.”

She hates the concern she hears in his voice. He isn’t her big brother. She can take care of herself.

She watches as he drinks at his turn, watches as his Adam’s apple goes up and down. They used to be so similar, both of them all slender bodies, and now he is a man, and his shoulders are wide and his back strong, and she isn’t quite sure she is a woman yet.

She waits for him to put back the bottle in his bag and grabs his hand.

“Come on, let’s have some fun!”

And then she’s twirling around him, laughing brightly, and only stops when her body reminds her she just drank vodka and this will end badly if she keeps pushing her limits. Out of breath, she wraps her arms around his neck to settle herself, and his arms come to meet her waist.

The sea still whimpers behind them, but she only sees the soft waves in his eyes and the soft smile he dedicates to her.

There is a sparkle, in his gaze, a question at the tip of his tongue – but he will not ask it.

She wants him to.

Her fingers trace the shape of his jaw as she swallows, a small smile on her face.

“Dizzy, are we, Swan?” he asks her, and she realizes just how close their faces have gotten as his breath caresses her face.

She shakes her head. “Not dizzy at all. Happy.” She calmly exhales, licks her lips.

He will not kiss her. She wants him to. But he won’t. Because of her, she’s sure now. But, the night isn’t over.

He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and steps back to let go. She misses the heat of his body immediately, can’t fight back the frown that takes over her features.

“I’m glad, Swan.” Why does he sound so mature? She hates it.

A childish anger shakes her heart and she feels cold. He left childhood behind and he didn’t bother to tell her he was leaving. He didn’t bother. And now she’s stuck in this weird limbo, not a child anymore but not an adult either, not really, not like M, and he isn’t with her anymore.

She shakes her head to chase her thoughts away.

“Right, let’s get in.”

It’s still pretty early, and there aren’t a lot of people queuing in front of The Forbidden Fruit (the name never fails to make her cringe). This allows Killian and Emma to display their fake ID’s quite quickly.

Killian plays the part awfully well, although they’ve downed the entire bottle of vodka before stepping in. Emma is very focused on not looking completely hammered, as Killian would put it. Girls get in easier, it’s a known fact.

The bouncer clearly knows they are underage but the forgeries are good. Killian got them done during his Navy year. And he is savagely challenging the tall, sturdy guy to prove those are fakes, one eyebrow raised.

How can he look this sober? It’s unfair.

“Fine, get in, kids,” mumbles the bouncer, and Emma is sober enough to muffle a scream of joy inside her palm.

Killian takes her hand in his as they enter the club. They let go of their bags in one corner – I’m not about to pay two dollars to have my stuff kept by people I don’t bloody know.

When they turn towards the dance floor, neon lights seize their eyes as pop music shakes the walls.

Killian turns to face her, smiling brightly. “Ready to party, Swan?”

She nods vigorously, her heart beaming. “Hell yes!”

He takes her hand again and it’s so easy to forget everything as they make their way between the swarm of young adults dancing. They swirl together, spin, fly some more. They are both soon panting and sweating but it does not keep them from continuing to jump around.

Emma thinks this is it, the great, terrible happiness she’s heard about her entire life. It must be this beat in her heart, this strong pulse of life inside of her, as Killian holds her hands and swings with her.

They dance for what seems to be only a few minutes – except almost an hour goes by – and Killian glances urgently at the watch on his wrist before pulling her towards him.

“Let’s go on the rooftop before midnight,” he yells into her ear, and it sounds like he’s whispering.

She nods again, smiling brightly, and presses a napkin against her forehead. She tries to catch her breath, stuck in some liminal space, but Killian is still very energetic and drags her along with him towards the stairs.

She finds her legs trembling under her weight and to be quite honest, the room might only be spinning in her head. He must feel her struggle because he turns to face her on reaching the stairs, and his hold is very firm on her hand as he secures his grip around her waist. She thinks she smiles then, and they climb up together.

“Since when do you hold your alcohol so well?” she asks, boldly, and it really isn’t the kind of question she would have asked had she been sober.

Purely because it echoes the year they spent apart. And they haven’t talked about it, at all. And she’d be damned before she opened up to him when he hasn’t opened up to her.

“Well, you’ve got to, in the Navy, love.” It’s the second time he’s called her love since he’s been back. Her heart smiles.

The vibrant sea breeze that welcomes them outside nearly swipes Emma off her feet. Or perhaps it is the vodka. Either way, it’s a plausible excuse to grab him again.

From the corner of her blurry vision, she sees Killian set a timer to midnight on his phone. It’s funny, how the music from the club sounds like a very muffled sound and the only thing she hears now is her own heartbeat.

She’s still out of breath. She inhales deeply, and then bows down to him. “May I have this dance?” she asks him, eyes shining with mischief.

He chuckles, and it’s a wonderful sound. “Anything for you, Swan.”

There must be some synchronicity in the universe because then a much gentler song resonates, and it sounds like her teenage years and she cannot believe childhood is already over.

They swirl together, his warm palm in hers, and her arm is wrapped around his neck, and he still smells good after all their dancing and it’s unfair. She hopes she doesn’t stink.

Another swirl, another turn, and she’s back in his arms again, and nothing ever felt this right. She thinks he must feel it, how well their bodies fit together, how easy it is to be together.

Before she knows it, she’s staring at his lips and she thinks he’s staring at hers too, and no air suddenly reaches her lungs and the timer rings painfully.

A smile spreads across his face. “Happy birthday, Emma.” He murmurs, says it with a lot of caution and care and affection and that other word she’s scared of.

She grins, brightly, vividly.

And then, she stands up on her tip-toes, and before they are both aware of it, she kisses him. Melts into his mouth, muffles a whisper of contentment against his lips, eyes firmly closed, just in case he pushes her away.

He doesn’t.

He kisses her back, his arms wrapping tightly around her, and she swears in that moment something explodes inside of her. She never believed in butterflies. She does now. A swarm has invaded her belly.

Her hands are in his hair, while his roam back and forth between her waist and her shoulder blades, and she cannot help but notice how expert his movements are against her body when she is still shaking with emotions.

And then he pulls back, and he’s all disheveled hair and rosy cheeks, and then, and then – she falls.

To the ground.

A ray of sunshine falls on her closed eyelids. When she wakes up, her hand is spread over her face and her mouth wide open. She groans, whimpers, groans some more and finally opens very hesitant eyes.

What the hell.

A terrible headache says hello to her. It isn’t fair.

The first thing she notices is Killian’s hand around her waist. In spite of the pain, that does make her smile. The next is that she isn’t home but in Killian’s childhood home (the one Liam and he inherited when they lost their father).

She slowly, very carefully, turns her face towards the nightstand. Of course. He left paracetamol and water there and a small note: “For my dearest idiot. Love, Killian”. It is set next to a picture of her and Killian, from middle school. She leans forward, tries her best not to wake him up in the process, and grabs the bottle. She drinks avidly, trying to hydrate the desert that is now her body.

A small chuckle echoes behind her. “You alright, Swan?” mumbles a voice, still very full of sleep.

She turns to face him, an apologetic smile on her lips. “Except for a ferocious headache, pretty good, yeah.”

He’s smiling at her, eyes still puffy and there is a very clear pillow mark in the middle of his forehead that makes him look like a wizard, and she swears he’s never smiled at her this way before.

And then shame circles her throat as memories come back to her mind.

She really made a show of herself last night, didn’t she? She hopes he doesn’t hate her.

She hands him the water bottle, and straightens her back in the bed to get some composure.

“Hey Killian?”

“Mmm?”

“Let’s forget all about last night, ‘kay? I was drunk and I’m sure I was awful...”

She hears him gulp loudly beside her. Her eyes twitch. Oh, it must be worse than she thought. Guilt swallows her. What has she done?

“All… all about it?” he repeats, and she swears his cheeks have become redder.

Her hands come to the blanket over her body, hold it tighter against her to protect her.

“Yeah, everything. I mean, it would have never happened if we hadn’t downed that damn vodka just the two of us.”

She tries to shrug it off, rolls her eyes really hard to seal the deal, but really, she is so ashamed.

He swallows beside her, frowns. “Alright Swan, if that is your wish, then I—”

“—Oh yeah,” she cuts him, and she’s throwing her legs out of the bed, “—I’m really sorry Killian, it won’t happen again.”

As he stares at her with what she thinks is some sort of judgement, the thought that she might be forgetting something does slip her mind.

But only for a few seconds, and then it’s gone forever.

#cs ff #cs fanfics #captain swan #friends to lovers #mutual pining #love rosie au #so there it is #i hope you guys will like this #please leave me your thoughts!!#my stuff

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

Second Chance 3

Harry Potter AU

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader

Link to Chapter 2

Rating- M- minor smut

______

3:00 am…

Sirius’ eyes snapped open. He sat up looking around the bedroom with a frown.

Another stupid nightmare…

He had been dreaming nightly about being thrown back into prison. This time there would be no escape and there would never be a way to see Matilda and yourself again.

“Damn it.”

He muttered before rubbing two hands over his face. Sirius was relieved to wake up in your bedroom. Relieved was putting things lightly. It was more like fucking ecstatic!

Sirius reached over to the bedside table in search of a fifth of whiskey. Taking a drink, the edge started to wear off quickly.

What he didn’t know was you were awake seeing the whole thing. Sirius had been back home a few weeks. As much as you wanted to admit that things were perfect but there weren’t. To admit you weren’t worried would be a lie. You saw how much alcohol he drank every day and how when making love his hands grabbed at you too tightly almost like an inexperienced teenager. The only time Sirius seemed to come alive was in bed.

You knew that things would be different. It has been 13 years and Sirius has been in prison. He isn’t going to come back 100% the moment that he came back.

Sirius had changed since prison. You didn’t see him smile as much. He was hard almost to the point of cold at points. The vacant expression in Sirius’ eyes made your heartache. You missed his happy carefree attitude. You would have been happy to have him teasing you again. In a million years, you never thought that you would miss the days when he would sit behind you in class and pull your hair.

The little voice in your head told you to be happy because you had him back so that should be enough.

“Nightmares again?”

You asked, softly. Sirius didn’t look down at you. His attention was focused on the bedroom door; not blinking.

“They haven’t stopped. Now that we are going back to my mother's house tomorrow night, God only knows how long...it's getting worse.”

You sat up enough to lay your head on his shoulder.

“Everything will be okay. It might now be today or tomorrow but it will be eventually.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. He took care to make sure that you didn’t see him. The last thing that he wanted was for you to be mad at him.

“Everything will be okay when you know who gets his ass handed to him.”

You didn’t move from your place on Sirius’ shoulder. The lover in you wanted nothing more than to pour all of the whiskey in the house down the drain but the sensible side said Sirius would be fighting mad. Sirius had always drank but now you were worrying about it getting out of control.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before you smirked and climbed on his lap. Sirius’ poor mood quickly changed and a ghost of the man that you loved flashed across his face.

“What are you up to?”

You reached up and slowly pushed the straps of your black lace nightie down. A smile began to play around Sirius’ mouth.

“Getting you occupied with something else. Your daughter is coming home later today and we are going to have to behave like civilized people.”

The two of you had been having sex on almost any flat surface in the whole house. If the mood set either of you right; whatever surface was available was where it was going down.

“She has to go to sleep sometime and silencing charms go a long way. Just ask your brother.”

Sirius said with a smirk. You knew exactly what he was talking about. The two of you had made love plenty of times with Remus in the room beside the two of you not making a peep (or so Remus thought).

“I don’t really want to think about my brother when I am trying to get laid. That’s like me bringing up Regulus when trying to give you a blowjob.”

Sirius’ amused expression fell as he looked down at his lap. The last thing that he really wanted to think about was his brother especially at a time like this.

“And there went my erection.”

You took Sirius’ right hand and placed it on your breast before leaning forward for a few teasing kisses. Sirius’ grey eyes were watching every move you made with intensity. You kissed him one more time before leaning over to rummage through the bedside table.

Sirius quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to prevent you from getting too far from him. He wasn’t ready to admit it but he had a feeling that if you got too far from him you would vanish forever or he would wake up in prison again. That had happened too many times. Only having his dreams for company was not enough.

“What are you doing?”

You sat back up with a smile.

“Let me see your left hand.”

Sirius slowly held his hand out as you slid his wedding ring back on his finger. He moved his hand forgetting exactly what his hand looked like with it on. The one nice quality that Barty Crouch had was to give you the wedding ring back.

“I was wondering if that shit head Barty Crouch actually gave you this. I didn’t believe him.”

You didn’t even like hearing Barty Crouch’s name. From the time that he threw Sirius into prison without a fair trial, all respect that you had for the man went down the drain.

“Fuck him.”

Sirius said, coldly before taking your left hand in his. He smiled and stroked his index finger over your engagement ring.

“Remember the night that I asked you to marry me? As I remember we were on my floor and you were wearing only this.”

Sirius leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around your left breast. Your head fell back and rocked your hips into Sirius’.

“And just like that, your erection is back.”

Half an hour later, you lay snuggled against Sirius’ chest. His long fingers stroked through your sandy hair.

“Feel better now?”

You asked, softly and was relieved when Sirius chuckled.

“Much better now. I have to ask. I am sure that there are going to be things about Matilda that you shield me from and I want to thank you in advance but please tell me that there are no little boys coming around here?”

You giggled at the expression on Sirius’ face.

“No.”

Sirius sighed before reaching for the cigarettes on the bedside table.

“Good. I don’t think that I can mentally process that right now. Oh, Merlin, we were only a year and a half older than her when we started sleeping together.”

You winced realizing that Sirius was right. The two of you were doing things that neither of you should have been doing way too early.

“First, off you were having sex a long time before me. Second, lucky for you, daddy, Tilly doesn’t seem interested in boys. She is too busy being brutally honest and spreading joy. Don’t worry, I have already had the talk with her. I told her all about the fact that she can’t get pregnant by jumping up and down afterward.”

Sirius scowled down at you.

“That’s what you got for believing me. I was a horny teenage boy that had one thing in mind. Luckily, I learned a thing or two about contraceptive charms by the time you finally agreed to sleep with me. I never had to work so hard to get a woman in my life. I liked spreading joy too...just between your legs. You were this cute little innocent girl that just happened to be my best friend’s sister. I had to be desperate to fall in love with you to test Remus right after a full moon.”

You propped your head upon your arm.

“If you were perfect with contraceptive charms and your pull out game was better we wouldn't have a child.”

Sirius smiled before inhaling.

“Love, you know that I am like a bottle rocket once I get inside of you.”

This conversation made you think of old times. You snuggled back down against Sirius’ body with a yawn.

“Better to sleep stud. 8 am comes early.”

Later that morning, Sirius was a bit annoyed when you wouldn't let him go with you to pick up Matilda. After giving him the “do you really want to go back to prison and never see us again” speech. He changed his tune.

When you walked back into the house looking annoyed, Sirius frowned. He knew that face well. That was usually the face that you made when he did something stupid.

“What?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I want you to have a good look at your daughter.”

You stepped aside to reveal Matilda whose left hand was wrapped and had a small bruise on her cheek. Remus had stepped in with Harry and looked equally annoyed. Matilda shrugged.

“Hi, dad.”

“What happened?”

Matilda shrugged. Between her mother’s annoyed expression and her father looking confused; the kid decided to go with blissfully dismissive.

“You should see the other guy.”

Sirius sat down the teacup that he was holding. He stepped forward slowly lifting the girl onto the counter to look at the bruise carefully. Sirius smiled looking at her face. She really did look like him. He didn’t want to admit it but some of her expressions were so much like her grandmother that it was almost scary.

“What other guy?”

“Malfoy. He ran his mouth so I punched him. He tried to hex me and he ended up getting his face smashed in. He puked. In my defense, he has had it coming all year.”

Sirius had to bite back a laugh. That was an answer he would have given if he ever heard one.

“The Malfoys have punchable faces.”

“Sirius!”

Remus and yourself said at the same time. Both Matilda and Harry were smiling. For once, someone had said something right about the Malfoys. Sirius, meanwhile, shrugged.

“I didn’t tell her to go punch the kid and I am also not saying that I did or did not hold Lucius Malfoy’s head under the black lake or cut his hair.”

“Brilliant.”

Harry said with a smirk. Sirius glanced at the displeased expression on your face.

“I also suffered from asshole disease. Matilda, no more fighting.”

Matilda sighed and gave a quiet okay. Sirius had to shake his head and walk off. Merlin, Matilda reminded him of you. You were always that little girl that was always ready to defend your older brother. Defend, take down, beat the ever-living crap out of someone...whatever it took for someone to figure out that Remus Lupin had a bodyguard.

Sirius’ attention went back to Remus, who was still standing at the door. The expression on his face was dark.

“So what happened to you?”

Sirius’ attention had shifted to Matilda who hopped off the counter and walked off muttering under her breath. Remus sighed.

“I kind of lost my job.”

“Because of your furry little problem?”

Sirius questioned. Remus didn’t really want to talk about it but Sirius needed to know. He had a hard enough time telling Harry. Telling Matilda was almost heartbreaking. Remus had a soft spot for his niece and seeing her angry tears made the whole situation worse.

“Yes. Snape let it slip about my condition and you know people won’t want someone like me teaching their children.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. His hatred of Snape increased some more.

“And that’s what has Matilda upset.”

You came in. The three of you exchanged cold glares. There was a silent agreement going on that Severus Snape was still the biggest twat known to man.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

Sirius said before turning and going in the direction that Matilda had gone in. She sat at the kitchen table; scowling at the wood.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?”

Matilda looked up.

“Professor Snape is a slime ball.”

Matilda was relieved when her dad chuckled. She had half expected him to have the same attitude that you did.

“Yeah, well, he’s been that way since he was a kid. There’s no hope in him changing.”

Matilda smiled.

“At least you get it. The man hates Harry and I...more like loathes instead of hates. He calls us arrogant.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and made a mental note to yell at Snape the next time the man was around him.

“Sorry, sugar. That is probably partially mine and James’ fault. We weren’t very nice to him. Tell you what, if he gives the two of you grief next term I’ll take care of it.”

Matilda stood up and wrapped her arms around Sirius’ waist. It took him a minute before wrapping his arms around her.

“Dad, did you talk to mom...about you know?”

Sirius glanced in the living room where you sat talking to Harry. He figured that the two of you were on good enough terms to tell Matilda the truth.

“We’re working on it. I don’t want you to worry. Like I told you before, I love your mother very much.”

(6 hours later)

You stood outside of Grimmauld Place looking coldly at the home. It had been a long time since you had been here. Deep down you were hoping to never be back here again...now here you were. You glanced up at Sirius. He stood with his hood up concealing what he could of his face. You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was furious. This was the last place that Sirius ever wanted to go to and now he was about to be trapped here. He was in a hell of a mood and felt bad for anyone that had to deal with him.

Your hand tightened around his as you kept an eye out for any nosy muggles. Molly and Arthur were already there so at least the place wouldn't be a total disaster. You already knew that Kreacher sure as hell wasn’t doing anything except muttering about how badly he missed Walburga and Regulus.

This damned place didn’t burn down.

Sirius thought coldly. Sure, being here would keep his family safe and the order would be able to resume, however, that didn’t mean that he had to be thrilled about it. His hatred of his mother had intensified now that he knew exactly how Matilda’s birth happened. There was no excuse in Walburga putting you through the hell that she caused.

As for Matilda, Sirius knew exactly why his mother and brother were so nice to her. They were hoping for some kind of heir that was actually worthy of the Black family name. Sirius internally laughed coldly at the wish of his mother being alive to know that Matilda was sorted into Gryffindor. The crazy old bat would probably drop dead of a heart attack or roll over in her grave. Sirius would have been fine with either personally.

Matilda’s hand wrapping around his wrist pulled Sirius from his thoughts. The poor thing didn’t look the least bit excited to be here either.

“Alright, darling?”

Matilda nodded, not about to admit that she didn’t want to go in.

“Yeah, If grandmama's picture starts screaming I’ll tell her to hush. She listens to me.”

You were relieved when Sirius laughed.

“That’s a first. The horrible old hag listening to someone. “

Stepping inside, you didn’t have to look at Sirius to know that he was fuming. You took off your robe as Nymphadora Tonks came running into the room. She was wrapped around you like a giant cat knocking Sirius’ hand loose from yours.

“Y/n! I have missed your face for the past two days that we haven’t worked together.”

She leaned down.

“Did you bring that good looking brother of yours?”

You grinned as Sirius ran a hand through his hair while rolling his eyes. The last thing that he wanted to know was Tonks’ interest in his best friend. You, meanwhile, smirked.

“He’ll be in shortly. Go flirt with him like you flirt with me.”

Tonks gave you a big grin as Remus stepped into the house and quietly closed the door behind him.

“There you go, have at him.”

Sirius said with a smile as Tonks made her way over to Remus but tripped over something with a loud crash. Remus quickly picked her up as Walburga Black’s portrait started screaming shrilly. Sirius automatically winced hearing her voice. All of the stresses from his childhood came flooding back as Matilda backed up against him.

“It's okay.” Sirius followed you into the other room where the portrait hung. Both of you froze watching the woman practically jump up and down in fury. Her rage intensified seeing her oldest son.

“YOU!! BLOOD TRAITOR! SHAME OF OUR FAMILY! HOW DARE YOU COME BACK IN THIS HOUSE!”

You wrapped your arms around Sirius’ waist as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“That’s obnoxious.”

Sirius said as Matilda pushed past her father. Walburga stopped mid-sentence and mid-hop to look at her granddaughter with an awestruck gaze.

“Precious! Such a good girl, you are!”

Sirius glanced over at you rolling his eyes.

“Hey, mum. She isn’t in Slytherin.”

Walburga froze before starting screeching about blood traitors again as she noticed everyone else in the room. You rolled your eyes before helping Arthur Weasly close the curtain over the portrait.

“Matilda, what don’t you and Harry go find Ron and Hermione.”

When the two were out of the room, you turned your attention back to Sirius who was scowling at the painting.

“Love, it isn’t healthy to be fussing with a painting.”

Sirius’ eyes were cold as they fell down to you. You wanted to sigh loudly. Sirius had gone back into that hard shell that he had made for himself.

“Apparently a lot of the things that I do aren’t healthy.”

He said before turning to walk out of the room and tugged Remus out with him. Tonks who was in the middle of flirting with Remus was clearly a tad annoyed. She came over to you with a frown.

“What’s got his knickers in a twist?”

You shook your head.

“Anything that moves the wrong way at the moment.”

You gave Sirius a good twenty minutes before going to find him. Sirius sat in the living room staring coldly at the fire. You reached out stroking your fingers through his hair. When Sirius didn’t pull away, you knew that he wasn’t mad at you. You missed his hair being longer but the shorter hair was definitely growing on you.

“Still mad?”

Sirius took your hand and started kissing it gently. His five o’clock shadow was rough against your skin as he nuzzled his face against your wrist.

“No.”

You were quiet for a moment before getting brave enough to speak.

“What do you want, Sirius? You’re on edge all the time.”

Sirius frowned before rolling his eyes up to your face. He felt guilty knowing that he was putting you through hell that you didn’t deserve.

“You know what I want? Peter Pettigrew’s head on a silver plate...extra bloody.”

You took another breath.

“That’s a delightful topic to talk about over dinner.”

Sirius dropped your hand for a moment before quickly taking it back. He didn’t want to let you go for a second.

“You asked.”

He stated. You wanted to hold back some snarky comments but maybe Sirius needed to hear it. Maybe he needed to hear that you were on his side.

“Don’t worry. We are going to get him then I’ll haul his useless ass off to Azkaban. I plan on getting a few punches in along the way.”

Sirius started laughing. You were relieved to see that his tune had changed.

“And you wonder why Matilda smacks Malfoy around?”

“Very funny, smartass.”

You said as Sirius reached out and pulled you onto his lap. A few kisses turned almost desperate before he pulled away to nuzzle your nose. What the two of you didn’t notice was Matilda standing in the doorway. She had heard everything about Sirius wanting Peter Pettigrew’s head on a silver platter...

__________

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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 4 years ago

Text

A Momentary Lapse of Duty

A/N #1: Finally, the concert fic is out! So, this author’s note will mostly be links to things that will make the fic more enjoyable.

Luna Silver headcanons: Hat | Car | Watch

Pink Floyd Concert: Set List | Concert recording | Playlist of the studio recording of the songs | Venice Concert broadcast (a shorter version of the same concert that was broadcasted)

Outfits: Alice | Luna (basically)

Alice was standing in the entryway of her house, looking out the window of the door. She glanced at her watch, which had a black strap and a gold-coloured case, before looking out the window again, clearly waiting for something. She was wearing a black psychedelic Pink Floyd t-shirt with a design inspired by the cover of “Wish You Were Here” at the front and the dates and locations of the 1975 tour at the back. She had paired it with a relaxed boyfriend fit denim shorts that had some abrasions, and a blue flannel checked long-sleeve shirt that used to belong to her brother Jacob. Her black Dr. Martens, black handbag, and light grey striped socks peeking out of her boots completed her look.

She was fiddling with the tip of her braid when she saw a car parking in front of her house. A blond girl emerged from the turquoise Ford Escort MK1 1973, but before she could open the front gate, Alice opened her front door, waving at her.

“Finally! I was about to think we were going to miss the concert!” exclaimed Alice as she made her way to her friend.

Luna Silver, one of Ravenclaw’s beaters, had gotten two tickets to the Pink Floyd concert and had invited Alice to join her as they had gotten along during the short time Alice had been part of the Quidditch team. Not to mention Luna’s best friend Rohan was not interested in going to a Pink Floyd concert.

As her former teammate approached her, her eyes widened when she noticed what Alice was wearing. It was eerily similar to her outfit, which was a blue flannel checked long-sleeve shirt, a Pink Floyd tee inspired by their “Dark Side of the Moon” album, brown ankle grazer trousers, and tan Timberland boots. Luna’s surprise faded when she noticed that the resemblance stopped there, as Alice was bare-faced, and her only accessory was her watch. On the other hand, Luna had a full face of makeup, with gold eyeshadow, black eyeliner on the upper lash line, mascara, and dark purple lips. She was wearing a choker and multiple layers of necklaces around her neck, a few bracelets of various sizes and colours and a watch on her right arm and a black leather bracelet on her left, not to mention the rings she was wearing. Alice was sure she had seen one of the rings Luna was wearing on Barnaby’s fingers.

“Nice outfit,” said Luna as Alice passed in front of her to get in the car. “Was partly expecting you to turn up in a cute summer dress or something.”

“For a Pink Floyd concert? Sure, if I wanted to stick out like a sore thumb. Anyway, you’ve seen what I wear during Quidditch practice, so you know I don’t always wear girly clothes,” pointed out Alice as she opened the door of the car. “Anyway, do you think this car will last long enough to get us to the Docklands and back?” she added looking at the vehicle.

“Oliver is an excellent car! Did a road trip one summer with it a few years back, and had no problems whatsoever,” pointed out Luna, getting in the driver’s side of the car.

“Oliver? You named your car?” asked Alice, staring at her as Luna started the engine and pulled onto the street.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No… Anyway, you said you got the car a few years back and went on a road trip, right?”

“Yeah,” replied Luna, wondering what she was getting at.

“You went on a road trip while illegally driving a car… That takes guts,” simply observed Alice. “Not surprising you dated Rath and Barnaby at the same time then. Rath seems like the jealous type…”

“We never actually dated… And how do you know about Rath, we kept our relationship a secret?” asked Luna, briefly glancing at her.

“You really think you can hide that kind of stuff from Penny and Andre?” replied Alice smirking.

“Well, I guess not,” said Luna, shaking her head with a small smile.

“You also dated Bill, right?”

“Again, we never actually dated…”

“Semantics. The point is… How is it to be romantically involved with a Weasley?”

“Which one?”

“Do you mean…? Well, hum, I guess in that case…” started saying Alice, flustered.

“I’m messin’ with you,” replied Luna, laughing.

“Oh! I was starting to think I had missed something…”

“Anyway, aren’t you going to tell me how I shouldn’t have broken Barnaby’s heart or something?”

“Why? Love is a fickle thing. I’m actually more impressed that you broke up with Rath and survived to tell the tale.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“I’ve seen her wielding that bat. If she wanted, she could crack your skull open.”

“As much as imagining me being murdered by someone is fun, let’s return to the Weasley question. While being involved with Bill, he is different from Charlie, so I don’t think you can use my experience as a reference. Anyway, I wouldn’t be worried about your budding romance with Dragon Boy. That snog you shared in front of everyone…”

“It was just a kiss,” grumbled Alice, her face turning red.

“Sure. A kiss that lasted more than ten seconds,” replied Luna as she drove around looking for a parking spot.

“Well, whatever it was, doesn’t mean anything for the future. While I do love him, I can’t predict the future. We are two in this relationship. He could lose interest in me now that he has me,” pondered Alice.

“Wow. You just started dating, and you already think like that? Cheer up, Alice. Dragon Boy has been gaga for you for some time now. Highly doubt he’s just going to drop you out of nowhere,” said Luna as she pulled on the hand brake.

Alice got out of the car and noticed a sign. “Luna, this says ‘Residents Only.’”

“Don’t worry. Jae hooked me up with this magical permit that’s good for everywhere,” said Luna as she placed a piece of paper on her windshield.

“How did…” started asking Alice.

“He didn’t tell, and I didn’t ask,” interrupted Luna, locking her car.

“Oh…”

“Now, come on, we don’t want to be late for the concert,” said Luna as she grabbed Alice’s wrist and started walking.

They made their way to the Docklands Arena, where a line had already formed, full of people waiting to get in.

“You have the tickets?” asked Alice as they went to the back of the line.

“Yup,” said Luna, turning her back to the Muggles in front of them. She discreetly took out her wand and waved it over her watch, the case opening up to reveal a small compartment. She took the tickets from said compartment, resulting in Alice furtively looking around.

“Did you seriously take those tickets out of your tiny watch in front of Muggles?” whispered Alice. “This goes against the Statute of Secrecy!”

“First of all, the Muggles are in front of us, and I turned my back, so don’t think they saw anything. Second, what do you care about the Statute? You broke so many rules at Hogwarts; I thought you would be the last person to care,” pointed out Luna.

“A plan my rule-breaking to reduce the risk of being caught. Call it a calculated risk,” explained Alice, looking around to make sure no Ministry employees had suddenly appeared to arrest them and bring them to Azkaban.

“Calm down, Alice, the Ministry won’t send us to Azkaban over a watch with an ancient Extension Charm,” said Luna, laughing as she patted Alice’s back.

They finally entered the arena, their eyes adjusting to the bright lights. They quickly found their seats and settled in before the concert began. Alice looked around, out of curiosity, at the audience. Some were young, about 20 years old, probably some of Pink Floyd more recent fans, while others were old enough to remember Pink Floyd at the time of Syd Barrett. There were some teenagers, but not that many. She raised her eyes toward the arena’s lights, thinking they ruined the whole rock mood a concert like this should have.

“The lights are awfully bright,” Alice remarked out loud.

“They’ll probably turn them off when the concert starts,” replied Luna as she tried to tighten her loose high ponytail, her tongue sticking out between her lips.

Alice kept looking around, not sure what else to say. She mostly interacted with Luna during Quidditch practice, so conversations had never really been part of their interactions. They talked, but never had extremely long conversations like she had with some of her other friends.

Lost in these thoughts, she didn’t notice when the lights dimmed a little, and the music started playing softly as the crowd cheered. The guitar playing, as well as the crowds erupting cheers that followed, caught her attention and she looked around, noticing the lights had barely dimmed.

“Ugh,” she heard Luna grunt. “Are you telling me they won’t turn off the lights?”

“Maybe later?” suggested Alice.

“David Gilmour has started playing. The ideal time to turn them off has passed,” explained Luna.

Alice looked around, noticing that while many were glaring at the lights above them, all were enjoying the music. When the other band members appeared on the stage and started playing, the audience erupted into cheers again.

Alice bit her thumb, concentrating on the music, her brows furrowed. She wasn’t that familiar with Pink Floyd. She had read about them after Luna had invited her to the concert and had listened to some of their records, but she wasn’t a longtime fan like Luna seemed to be.

“What song is this?” whispered Alice, a few minutes into the song.

“Don’t you recognize it? It’s ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond’!” replied Luna, just as Gilmour started to sing.

“Oh… right… The one written as a tribute to Syd Barrett…” said Alice, trying her best to hide that her knowledge of Pink Floyd was recent.

Luna looked at her with a raised eyebrow, staring at her awkward smile before returning her attention to the concert. She had no idea Alice had accepted her invite partly because she was curious to see what a rock concert was like, partly because Luna was so cool, you can’t say no to someone who is at that level of cool. She couldn’t just admit she had no idea who Pink Floyd was.

Alice was lost in these thoughts when the saxophone made a high pitch sound at the end of the first song, which made her wince while the crowd was cheering. The cheers quieted down as the second song started. It was very calm, somewhat extraterrestrial. A few minutes in, the tempo completely changed and Gilmour began to sing again. Alice thought that the song’s intro didn’t match with its current beat.

A soul in tension that's learning to fly

Condition grounded but determined to try

Alice glanced at Luna, who was enthralled by the concert. She turned her gaze back to the stage. She figured the sound of Pink Floyd was something you got used to, as she was mostly feeling confused.

At the end of the song, the group stopped playing as people cheered. David Gilmour waved a bit at the crowd before starting to speak.

“Thank you very much, indeed!” he said before the crowd cheered.

“We’re going to play songs from the Momentary Lapse of Reason album for the first half of tonight,” he managed to say over the crowd’s clamour. “Are you ready, Guy?”

Guy Pratt nodded and started playing the beginning of the next song.

Alice enjoyed the repetitive beat of that song and the echoey sound of their voices and the instruments. While she still looked pensive, she was tapping her feet to the beat. She couldn’t help but smile when she heard Humphrey Bogart’s distinctive voice over the music.

“You're getting on that plane with Victor where you belong,” she heard him say.

“Merlin! It’s a scene from Casablanca,” she whispered to herself.

“Nine chances out of ten, we'd both wind up in a concentration camp,” said Humphrey Bogart.

“It’s the ‘We’ll always have Paris’ scene!” said Alice, beaming.

“You seem more excited about that than the concert,” pointed out Luna, staring at her friend, bemused.

“Ah, hum… Well, it is one of my favourite movies,” explained Alice, blushing.

“If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life,” said Bogart.

“But what about us,” said Alice, along with the voice of Ingrid Bergman, a line that the voice of the actress repeated a few times until only the music was playing.

“Wait... They didn’t include ‘We’ll always have Paris’ or ‘Here’s looking at you, kid’? What’s the point of including that scene if you won’t use the iconic lines from it?” complained Alice, to Luna’s amusement.

“Just enjoy the show. You can watch the movie tomorrow if you want, and you’ll get all the iconic lines,” teased Luna, patting her friend’s back.

Pink Floyd’s voice sounded robotic in the song after. She had a hard time understanding what they were saying or singing. Eventually, they started to play a calm song with a recurrent melody. As they weren’t singing, Alice closed her eyes, trying to envision something, to see what story the music was trying to tell, but the only thing that came to her mind was outer-space. She suddenly imagined herself wearing a Star Trek uniform and walking around the USS Enterprise. At least she thought it was the USS Enterprise. Her knowledge of Star Trek was limited to the two or three episodes she had seen on TV, which she had watched because the captain had a French name, yet spoke with a British accent. Alice was suddenly taken out of her reveries when the robotic voices returned. She thought this was a bizarre and very long song intro.

The robotic voices stopped as suddenly as they started and were followed by the sound of a guitar and a bass. Alice had an expression of total confusion on her face. When the drums began to play, she couldn’t help but beat the rhythm by tapping her feet again. She was relieved when Gilmour started singing again. Pink Floyd songs seemed to have very disparate song intros. She didn’t remember them to be so all over the place when she listened to the records back home. Maybe she had listened to songs they had not played yet. As the song ended, at least, she thought it ended, as the instrumental parts were so heterogeneous, dogs or wolves appeared on a round screen behind the band, growling.

“What the…?” mumbled Alice, staring at the screen.

“It’s because the song is Dogs Of War,” explained Luna.

“Why do we have visuals for that one song? Why couldn’t they show the Casablanca scene?”

“Still going on about that movie? They probably didn’t show the scene because of copyrights.”

Alice let out a sigh, tapping her fingers on her arm to the tempo of the music. The song was good, and the beat was catchy. She still would have rather seen Humphrey Bogarts’ face on that screen than a bunch of angry wolves. Those wolves reminded her too much of her encounter with Fenrir Greyback. A sense of relief washed over her when the song ended and the wolves disappeared.

“Thank you very much, indeed,” said David Gilmour as the crowd cheered. “We’ll do one more song, and then we’ll do the shit. This is On The Turning Way.”

The crowd clapped and whistled as Gilmour started to sing again. Alice was mostly surprised there wasn’t a long song intro. It was a smooth song, even when the music got more intense, it maintained its relative serene vibe. Alice closed her eyes, trying to absorb the music, to visualize it. It felt dramatic and self-assured. Luna and other people around her started to get up to dance to the music, but they were quickly told by security to sit down. At the end of the song, everyone got up to applaud them.

The lights got a bit brighter, indicating the beginning of the intermission.

“Want anything?” asked Luna, as she got up.

“Hum, bottled water, if it’s not too much to ask,” replied Alice.

“Coming right up,” said Luna with a smile as she walked towards the exit.

Alice got up to stretch a bit, looking at her watch as she did so. The concert had started about an hour ago. She still had about an hour and a half to go, at least based on the review she had read in the paper. Another hour and thirty minutes of confusion with some moments of enjoyment…

“Here you go!” said Luna with a grin, holding the bottle of water in front of Alice’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” replied Alice, blinking as she was coming out of her thoughts. She looked at Luna who was sipping a glass full of a golden liquid. “Is that… beer?”

“Hmmm? Oh! Yeah, they didn’t have anything stronger. If there weren’t so many Muggles around, I’d take some from my watch… Want any?” offered Luna.

“Hum, no, I don’t drink.”

“Suit yourself.”

“But… the legal age of drinking in the UK is 18. You’re 17,” pointed out Alice.

“Technically, you have to be 18 to buy alcohol. You can drink beer and wine when you’re 16. Anyway, what are you? Some junior copper or something?”

“No, but what if they had asked for your ID? They might have thrown you out and you would have missed the rest of the concert.”

“They didn ask for it, and I had my fake ID with me, just in case,” replied Luna, taking it out of her pocket. “Honestly, Beaumont, you need to learn to relax. No wonder you always looked so tense every time I saw you. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders: the cursed vaults, Rakepick’s betrayal, your brother’s disappearance, getting good grades, playing Quidditch, solving your friends’ problems, being a Prefect… Honestly Alice, you need to let go. You don’t have to worry about everything and everyone,” said Luna, squeezing Alice’s shoulder with her free hand.

“Easier said than done… Every time a new vault releases its curse, everyone looks at me to solve it. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy solving the mystery of the vaults, and I’ve learned so much in the process, but it��s just so much pressure when everyone waits for you to deal with the vaults. Sure, Dumbledore is all about me leaving it to the professors, but I’m the one who’s seen as the ‘Curse-Breaker,’ and everyone expects me to end the curse. And with the whole Rakepick betrayal…” said Alice, holding her head, her fingers entangled in her hair. “Ugh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this.”

“Hey, don’t worry. You clearly need to talk, and whenever you’re ready, I’m right here,” said Luna, smiling at Alice as she ruffled her hair.

“Thanks,” said Alice with a small smile, briefly looking up as the lights dimmed a little. “Oh, looks like the concert is about to resume.”

“Better sit down then,” said Luna as they both sat in their seats.

The crowd cheered and whistled loudly as David Gilmour started to play the guitar. People were clapping to the beat of the music. Alice was tapping her heel to the ground as she began to once again wonder when they would start to sing. It eventually dawned on her, as she was pensively staring in front of her, that maybe some of Pink Floyd’s “songs” were actually instrumental tracks. It would make sense that some of the instrumental bits she thought were freakishly long song intros were actually stand-alone instrumental songs. But with multiple instrumental songs following one another, it was hard to tell them apart. Just as she was thinking that, the group started to sing. She slightly nodded her head to the music’s rhythm, her arms crossed, staring blankly in front of her.

Luna glanced at her briefly, before staring at her as she realized Alice looked more like someone who was there to write a dissertation on rock music or on Pink Floyd than someone who was there to simply enjoy themselves. Her slight bobbing of the head might have been a sign she was enjoying herself, but her blank expression worried Luna.

“Hey, are you ok?” she asked her fellow Ravenclaw when Pink Floyd had started another of their instrumental songs.

“Yeah, why?” said Alice, raising her eyebrows.

“You just don’t look like you are enjoying yourself,” pointed out Luna.

“I am. Admittedly, it’s not what I usually listen to, and I did think their song intros were odd until I realized they probably were instrumental ‘songs,’ and it made much more sense.”

“Wait, weren’t you familiar with Pink Floyd before coming?”

“Honestly… I might have done a quick research before coming to the concert to be a bit more familiar with them, but that’s pretty much it,” admitted Alice, looking away.

“But why did you accept when I invited you?”

“Well, part of me was curious to see what a real rock concert was like, though based on your reaction, bright lights and not being allowed to stand are not the norm. And I knew Pink Floyd by name… And what am I supposed to say to one of the coolest girls at school? That I only know the name but couldn’t name you one of their songs?”

“Coolest? Not sure about that,” said Luna, remembering her beloved hat from her 3rd year. She then shook her head with a smile. “And I thought you were a Pink Floyd fan because of that t-shirt you once wore at Quidditch practice.”

“T-shirt? What t-shirt?”

“The one with the Dark Side of the Moon album cover… Basically like the one I’m wearing right now.”

Alice looked at Luna’s t-shirt. “I thought it was a science t-shirt.”

“Science?”

“Yes, the dispersion of light by prisms because of refraction and Snell's law, first observed by Sir Isaac Newton.”

“A science lesson at a Pink Floyd concert? You are full of surprises, Alice,” said Luna with a side smile.

“Thanks, I guess,” replied Alice, furrowing her brows.

“What about the Pink Floyd tee you’re wearing now?”

“Bought it in Camden for the occasion.”

“You planned your outfit? I think Andre has an influence on you,” said Luna, laughing as she patted Alice’s head.

“Don’t tell him. I’ll never hear the end of it. Anyway, he’d probably say I needed more accessories,” said Alice, looking at Luna’s outfit.

“That style takes years to develop,” said Luna proudly.

“Years?”

“Yup… Though I’ll admit the septum ring does a lot to create the right vibe. Oh! Maybe…”

“Don’t even think about it! I’m still overcoming the trauma of getting my ears pierced, and it was, like, 10 years ago.”

“Oof! You are such an angel!” exclaimed Luna, pinching her friend’s cheek.

“Ouch!” winced Alice as they heard a woman singing. “Wait? Why is a woman singing?”

“Oh, that’s The Great Gig In The Sky. It’s a song without any lyrics, the woman will just sing sounds,” explained Luna.

“That’s... original?” said Alice, raising her eyebrows as she looked at the stage.

Alice stared at the scene as she heard the woman singing. She clearly was vocally gifted, but it sometimes felt more like screaming than singing to Alice’s ears. Alice did think that using the human voice like that was clever, even if it wasn’t to her taste. It was as if the voice was like the other instruments, just producing notes. The crowd around her seemed to enjoy it as they loudly clapped as the song ended.

The clapping turned into cheers as Pink Floyd started to play the next song, which Alice remembered hearing on the record she had bought: Wish You Were Here. She clapped along with the audience to the beat. When David Gilmour started singing, everyone sang along with him. Alice wasn’t familiar enough with the song to actually sing along, only swaying along to the rhythm. Still, she did think it gave the concert a pleasant atmosphere to hear the crowd singing a song they clearly loved.

The next song started off with a strange instrumental bit, making Alice wonder if it was another instrumental song until the bass started playing and everyone started clapping to the beat. Alice nodded her head to the tempo of the song. The clapping faded when the group began to sing, but the song and the beat enthralled everyone. Alice noticed Luna tapping her foot to the rhythm, and many around her were either nodding or swaying their body to the beat. She saw some people trying to get up before security quickly told them to sit.

The song ended, some people showing their appreciation by whistling before the cheering started again when the next song started. The beginning was very soft, which Alice found pleasant. As she could clearly hear the drums, she couldn’t help herself to air drum along with the beat. The saxophone gave the song a completely different vibe from the other songs. It felt more like jazz than rock, which was probably why Alice liked it and had a smile on her face.

Her smile didn’t fade away during the next songs, the beat being very catchy. She even caught herself tapping her heel to the rhythm of the songs. The crowd started to sing again during “Another Brick In The Wall” and cheered as the music started to fade. David Gilmour approached the microphone to talk to the crowd.

“Yeah!” he shouted to the crowd’s cheer. “One more song before we go,” he said, making the crowd boo him. He laughed before adding, “We’re gonna do one last song for tonight. Thank you all very much for coming tonight. This is Comfortably Numb.”

The crowd once again cheered as he announced the song, while Alice thought the song’s name was appropriate to the way she was starting to feel. It was getting late, and her eyelid felt heavy. She sat back as they started playing, her elbow resting on the armrest and her cheek resting on her fist. It was a song with a slow pace that made Alice comfortably numb, to the point where she closed her eyes. She listened to the music, letting herself drift away. People cheering at the end took Alice out of her sleepy trance, and she clapped along with everyone else. The band bowed and waved as they left the stage, but the crowd kept on cheering, clearly wanting an encore.

After about a minute or so of clapping, shouting, and cheering, the band reappeared on the stage, resulting in the cheers becoming louder. The songs of the encore were catchy with a fast beat, making Alice anything but sleepy. Luna even got up at some point to dance, but even if it was the encore, security quickly told her to sit down, or she would be kicked out. So everyone was limited to dance in their seats while clapping. Luna couldn’t help but smile when she noticed Alice moving her body and snapping her fingers to the music. At the end of the encore’s second song, the crowd got up to cheer and clap, showing their appreciation to the band. David Gilmour thanked the crowd before leaving the stage.

“So, did you enjoy the show?” asked Luna as they made their way toward the exit.

“Well, once I figured out that some songs were instrumental pieces, I did enjoy it more. Before that, I was a bit… befuddled.”

“Why didn’t you ask me about it sooner?”

“Well, I didn’t really want to admit I wasn’t familiar with Pink Floyd…”

“Am I really that intimidating?”

“I wouldn’t say intimidating… Just like one of the cool kids no one wants to disappoint.”

“How sweet of you,” said Luna, pinching Alice’s cheek. “Honestly though, I’m really not that cool. My roommates don’t think all the animals that hang out with me are so cool.”

“So that’s the smell that comes from your floor…” said Alice, rubbing her cheek.

“Hey! They do not smell!” replied Luna, lightly punching Alice’s shoulder.

“Joking! Bill mentioned how talented you are with animals, so for someone who has a hard time just petting some creatures in Care of Magical Creatures, that’s cool.”

“Meh, I’ll take it. Now get in the car,” said Luna shaking her head and smiling as she unlocked it.

They got into the car, and Luna turned on the radio as she drove. The late hour and the slight movements of the vehicle caused Alice to fall asleep. Noticing Alice had dozed off, Luna turned off the radio, a light smile on her lips. Parking in front of Alice’s house, she gently tapped her friend’s shoulder.

“Angel… Angel…” she softly said while tapping her shoulder.

“Jacob… No… Niffler…” mumbled Alice.

“Alice…”

“Mmm?” muttered Alice as she opened her eyes.

“You’re home,” said Luna, nodding toward the terraced house.

“Oh… Thanks. Wait, did I fall asleep?”

“It’s ok. It is pretty late.”

“Well, thanks again for tonight. I really enjoyed it,” said Alice as she left the car.

“Glad to hear. Goodnight,” said Luna, waving as she started to drive away.

Alice waved back, “‘Night!”

Alice kept waving until the car turned a corner.

A/N #2: I hope you enjoyed this fic! I would like to thank @lunasilvermorny for allowing me to write a fic with her precious MC (and for reading and commenting my fic to make sure I didn’t screw up her character). Here’s one additional link: London Arena atmosphere. If you are wondering why I wrote this concert with an atmosphere which is very far from the average rock concert, it’s because of the comments in that article of people who actually went to the Pink Floyd concert. Let me know what you thought in the comments! (Oh, and I kinda answer the question associated with the letter A in the 30 Day Alphabet OTP challenge.)

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #alice beaumont #Luna Silver #hphm mc #other people's mc #hogwarts mystery mc #jacob’s sibling #pink floyd #concert fic #london docklands arena

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comfortablesilencebk · 3 years ago

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CHAPTER 04

Y/N has spent many nights at the hospital and knows the way to the smoking area. The third floor across the toilets. A long balcony with chairs and a view over the park. It’s quiet at night but if she listens closely, she could hear the cars. This night she hears especially many cars and sirens. It’s quite warm and the first birds are already chirping, calling in the morning. It’s calming, the cold air clears her mind and cools down her burning skin.“It is over now,“ whispers the gentle breeze, kissing her cheeks.

Her face is expressionless and she’s staring at the grayish blue sky, her mind somewhere far away under the sakura blossoms. Her brown hair is still in the same braid from the previous day but a flew more of the grey curls fell out. She looks beautiful. The kind of beautiful that brings you down on your knees and makes you want to capture it in some way. A dangerous kind of beauty, for she knows brothers would go to war against each other for her. No war could hold him back. Bakugou thinks to himself as he finally steps out on the balcony. He wandered around the whole hospital, trying to find something that would occupy him and somehow his feet carried him to Y/N.

„What are you doing here?“ he huffs, annoyed by his own thoughts, and takes a seat across the table from her. Compared to the non stopping sounds of machines and his mother’s screams still ringing in his ears sounds her voice like a warm bliss. He doesn’t have to be afraid to say something because he knows she wouldn’t sound like they do. Even when she’s mad or yells at him, sounds her voice beautiful. Angry but in a way, that he’s happy she’s letting it all out.

„Early bird,“ she answers him with a soft voice and turns her head towards him, an empty smile on her lips, that makes his chest shrink. He’d rather listen to her yelling than to see the numb mask on her face. “And you?“

„Mineta talks in his sleep.“

They both lied.

He hasn’t closed his eyes for a second, still going over every detail of the attack. Analyzing his moves, the villain‘s and his classmates‘. Bakugou keeps staring at a point behind her head, while he talks. The more often he replays this one moment, the stupider he feels. Y/N almost completely shut down as he grabbed her to fly them out. Her body tensed up and her hands even shook. He should have asked before grabbing her. Looking back he remembers how panicked and scared she was when the whole cafeteria stormed towards the exit. It was only a moment where the fear showed itself, before she could rip it apart again, but Bakugou noticed. Somehow his gaze always finds her.

„We can go home today,“ Y/N responds with a calm voice, whereupon Bakugou sighs. He can’t stand sharing a room with Mineta, smelling like disinfectants and wearing the uncomfortable clothes the nurse gave to him. He can’t stand his parents any less. They visited for a few hours and spent them screaming at him but ignoring each other. Even now that they’re gone, he can still hear his mother’s voice about how careless and stupid he is. He doesn’t like the hospital but he hates home.

„I know.“

Y/N nods and turns her head to the sky, her smile slowly fading back into the tired expression. Bakugou doesn’t care about manners or being friendly and so she knows he doesn’t care if looks exhausted. They stay silent for a few minutes, not knowing what else to say but also not wanting to go away. There’s a reason they never spend time alone, considering the fact they share the same friends. They discuss during lessons, bicker about petty stuff in their free time and laugh at each other but they never really had a real conversation.

Bakugou‘s mind runs laps, trying to find something he could say, because this silence is unbearable. Not only because he remembers his parents and feels awkward but he also liked listening to her voice. He finally clears his throat and opens his mouth.“You fight good, Skeleton.“

Y/N looks back to him and smiles, not because she wants to be polite and friendly - they both surely don’t care about that, but because she’s amused and Bakugou once again realizes how pretty she is. „So did you,“ she whispers and turns her head back to the view. The sky is slowly turning into a lighter color. These early hours never seem real to them, as if there is a world they entered. Different from the rest of the day, where everything has some kind of order, there is nothing you have to do at 4 a.m. This is a different world, one where nothing has to have a label and where everything can be okay if they want to. They stepped out the timeline into a creation only they control.

„You said that you can’t control others' bones.“

The girl clenches her jaw and frowns her forehead. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked, he thinks to himself but it’s already too late.“I can to a certain extent,“ she answers to his surprise, barely loud enough to hear her words.

This might be the most powerful and useful part of her quirk but she hates it. Y/N knows how horrendous it is to be controlled by someone else and she doesn’t wish this for anyone. Calling these bones from the earth takes way more energy, yet alone the nightmares she has, and recreating her own ones makes her bones fragile and weak. But what is the other option? Failing as a hero and losing the little freedom she has? Nightmares and exhaustion are a price she’s willing to pay.

Y/N stays quiet for a moment. Hesitating, arguing in her mind if she could ask him, the question that’s been wandering in her head, but it’s Bakugou. He doesn’t care about giving someone the comfort of a lie.“Do you think I was too...brutal?“ Villainous is the word that is laying on her tongue but she can’t tell him that.

The boy looks up as the words reach him, muscles tensening.“I’m no one to judge your actions,“ he answers stiff, noticing how she only exhales. She hoped for a different answer, one that would disagree and give her comfort but he doesn’t quite know how. Bakugou knows what she did. Knows how brutal and ugly it all looked.

Bakugou was bewildered when he listened to Mineta. How she threw Shigaraki like a softball and broke his bones like nothing, about how she fixed her bones and then Aizawa‘s. He can’t deny that her quirk is powerful and that he’s intimidated by her. With such a quirk she could fight so many dangerous villains. It also annoys him that he hasn’t beaten her while she uses her full powers.“You were protecting Aizawa-Sensei. It’s okay to be brutal, how else are we supposed to fight villains?“

„But doesn’t that mean we are no better than them?“ Bakugou isn’t sure who she means exactly but it’s probably not only the villains who attacked.

„We don’t attack innocent people.“ The boy almost laughs at his own words. Out of all people he’s the last one to talk about attacking the innocent. “We just fight the monsters for those who can’t fight back.“

What even defines a monster? Y/N wonders but doesn’t say a thing and only sits up.“Maybe we should go back inside. It’s late.“ Y/N stands up from the chair and is about to leave as he raises his voice. She doesn’t want to think about Aizawa and how they carried him out of the building or about Shigaraki and how she was willing to do things to him. Asking such things is stupid, she thinks.

„Stay.“ It’s almost a whisper, barely loud enough to be heard. Sleepy Bakugou is surprisingly soft and kind, at least for his conditions. This is something not many people are allowed to witness but in this little world they created, nothing has to be normal. Y/N was willing to talk about her quirk, something she apparently doesn’t like, so Bakugou can allow himself to be soft.

„Not really in the mood to be yelled at.“ Y/N looks down at him and notices how he frowns, before taking a deep breath.

„I won’t yell,“ he finally says and even though she doesn’t fully believe him, she sits back in her chair. None of them wants to be left alone with their own thoughts.

They overlook time and soon the morning sun kisses their cheeks a good morning. They talk about petty stuff, nothing that’s related to hero training. For a few hours they’re just two teenagers without any responsibilities. Y/N tells him about the latin songs that Sero showed her and how her „uncle“ taught her how to make pancakes. Bakugou tells her stories about his childhood that make her laugh so hard tears start rolling down her cheeks. They keep each other company, so they wouldn’t think about the things they saw earlier, slowly losing their masks.

At 7 a.m Dr.Kanai finds them, on his way to his first smoking break, and sends them back to their rooms, where they separate unwillingly. They leave their little world behind and just like that the past hours become a memory neither of them will recall. By the time school starts, their truce ends completely. Bickering during the breaks, competitions at rankings and discussions about irrelevant topics. In some way this is how they help each other get over the events.

They might find comfort in them but their classmates however don’t seem to like the discussions. Y/N notices how everyone flinches whenever a door gets shut a little too loud or how they avoid bigger crowds. The two of them are often the last one to go, for somehow they miss what they had this one early morning.

Bakugou and Y/N sit in the cafeteria, surrounded by background noises yet it’s still quiet at their table. Momo is meeting with Iida at the moment, Denki went to the bathroom and Sero and Kirishima are looking for some snacks. It’s only the two of them sitting at the table, not knowing what to say. Whenever the two of them are alone they fall silent. This little world, that was once the hospital balcony, expands between the distance of their bodies but it never grows big enough, since someone interrupts them - maybe they’re just too far away from each other.

„Are you nervous about the sports festival?“ Y/N asks with rosy cheeks to finally break the awkward silence. She’s still nervous to talk to her classmates, afraid they might think she’s dangerous or disgusting because of the things she did. The blond boy also talks less since the incident - he too noticed how their classmates are still on guard and tense. But when they’re alone it’s less exhausting. They don’t have to tiptoe around words or think before acting. He doesn’t know why they processed the attack quicker than their classmates but somehow he has the feeling it’s because of Y/N.

Bakugou looks up from his plate to meet her grin. A few days ago Aizawa Sensei, whose sight gives them goosebumps, informed them about the annual U.A sports festival. Since then they all just train and spy on the other classes to find out who their opponent might be. Y/N can’t deny that Shinsou Hitoshi didn’t intimidate her. He reminds her of Bakugou but quieter.“Of course not! I’m gonna beat these useless weaklings!“

A grin grows on her lips, as small explosions appear on his palms. Bakugou‘s still loud and grumpy when the two of them talk and Y/N finds that comforting, considering the fact that he knows what she’s capable of doing.“Yeah, until you have to fight against me. You might beat everyone but I’m still better than you, BoomBoomBoy.“

„Dream on, Skeleton.“

————

previous chapter • index • next chapter

you can read it on ao3 here: comfortable silence

#bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #comfortablesilcence #mha fanfiction #aizawa shouta #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

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The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 6

Summary: After their first kiss, Adelaide and Henry prepare for their final challenge.

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // Previous chapter //

Henry really needs to think this through.

He meant every single word that he said yesterday to Adelaide, he truly does. He is falling in love with Adelaide and he is falling way too hard. He doesn’t even care about the stupid part of the show anymore, he just wants to get to know her. Right now and even after the show, he only wants to be around her.

However, he also meant the other thing he said to her: she can go home if she feels like that’s for the best. But deep down he doesn’t want her to go.

Not yet.

That entire afternoon they spend kissing, like they were two teenagers. However, by the time they had to go home, it was hard for him to focus and bounce back to their routine they had before their first kiss.

Should or shouldn’t he wrap his arm around her shoulders, push that strand of hair out of her face or use his thumb to wipe away the bits of food of her cheek?

During the night however, those doubts disappeared like snow in the sun. The whole world saw how they slept together after the haunted house incident, why should they stop? While Adelaide was asleep, he would just stare at her, without her looking away as she would turn into a blushing mess.

He never expected her to be like the pro she is, but then he realizes: while she has never been in a relationship before, this woman is the queen of romantic comedies and the one that she starred in, were all pretty healthy relationships, compared to other movies. She knows what she deserves, even more so than he can offer.

Adelaide Park stole his heart and from the looks of it, she has no intentions on ever giving it back, something that he doesn’t mind at all.

Over the course of a few days, they do some challenges and somehow they manage to do pretty okay. For the YouTube page of the Celebrity Project, they even did a segment on how to cook some Korean dishes and the comments underneath that clip were all about the same thing.

Their chemistry.

While they are second place now (the Biebers are behind them and Charlie and Jennifer are way ahead of them), they are the fan favorites and Adelaide continues to impress everyone watching.

Tomorrow they are going on a little camping trip, as part of their final challenge. After that, it’ll all be over. No more camera’s, no more stupid challenges (meaning never eating fried tarantulas anymore) and it’s only him and her together, getting to know one another even better. He even thought about maybe auditioning for her upcoming movie. Playing alongside her, that’s all he wants.

It is hard on Henry, not to kiss her every time he gets the chance. He looks at her as she is making breakfast for them, but his phone rings, disturbing their little moment. He sees it’s his agent Richard and he places his hand on the small of her back. ‘You need me for something?’ he asks.

She looks up and shakes her head. ‘No, please, take it,’ she says. ‘I can manage.’ He earns himself a beautiful smile from Adelaide.

After he excused himself, he walks outside, away from the camera’s. ‘Yes, what do you want?’

‘You are not responding to my texts,’ Richard informs him.

‘I have been busy.’

‘With Adelaide?’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Henry asks him annoyed. He really hasn’t got time for this, especially not when he can make breakfast with Adelaide, as part of their morning routine.

‘You’re losing, Henry. You know what that means, right?’ The asshole answers his own rhetorical question. ‘You’re not getting James Bond.’

He doesn’t care about James Bond anymore. But he doesn’t want to come across as a simp. ‘We’re not too far behind. I’ll get her to man up, so we can win this.’ It hurts him to say something like this. He doesn’t want Adelaide to man up. He wants her to stay exactly the way she is.

‘Are you sure?’ Richard asks and he can even hear the cockiness and arrogance in his agent’s voice. ‘Because from the looks of it, she is continuing dragging you down.’

That is not the fucking case. ‘We’ll manage.’

‘And I never knew you were such a good actor. I almost believe you care about her.’

‘Maybe after this I’ll get even more jobs.’ Henry doesn’t mean it and even saying it out loud, pains him. He looks over his shoulder, to see Adelaide placing everything on the table outside. ‘I’ve got to go.’ Without waiting for Richard to answer, he hangs up.

This idiot is making him furious from the inside, completely ruining his good mood. The only thing he wants is to spend his day with Adelaide, without distractions. But when he sits down with her, all his annoyance has disappeared. ‘Just in time,’ she says with a smile.

Normally he would sit across from her, but today he sits right next to her, as they watch over the garden, seeing the birds fly from tree to tree, a stray cat wandering around the yard. ‘What’s the plan for today?’ he asks, as he grabs a cracker from the plate.

‘I think we have… pre… per… pre-pa-ra-tion time for the the final challenge tomorrow.’ She looks a bit annoyed, for her tumbling over her words.

‘Addy,’ he says in a soft voice, causing her to look up. ‘It’s okay, remember that. You are with me.’ He can’t help but push a strand of hair out of her face and as he is doing that, he knows this is what fans comment about, if this shot makes it into the episode. He actually quite enjoys the fact that they are the fan favorites now.

‘Sorry,’ she whispers.

He decides not to continue this conversation, because he knows that it annoys her and makes her insecure. ‘We could go into town, buy some things.’

She nods. ‘Of course. Sounds like fun.’

‘And maybe you and I could go for a swim later this evening.’

‘Why?’

‘That’s fun,’ he chuckles. ‘Maybe you can finally swim by yourself. Just a little bit.’

He places his hand on her leg. ‘I saw there is a nice little cafe, maybe we can have something to drink there.’

She nods. ‘Of course.’

They finish up their breakfast and she quickly tells him that she is going to put on some make-up. He doesn’t think that she needs that, but he simply stares after her. When she’s out of his sight, he lets out a deep, slightly frustrated sigh that he had been holding in for a while now.

That afternoon he was falling for her a little more with every kiss that they shared. It just clicked, it matched perfectly. Her petite frame fits right in his arms, like they were made for one another. He loved feeling her soft skin underneath his fingers.

‘Ready?’ Adelaide asks, when she walks back in. She is wearing a blush pink dress, that is pretty tight fitting. He bites his lip as he tries not to gawk at her and nods. She grabs her purse and he holds out his hand. ‘What is it?’

‘Give me your purse,’ he says with a smile. ‘Come on.’

Henry can see them walking around like this in the future, her as his girlfriend and he wouldn’t be complaining about that at all.

◎ ◎ ◎

They have bought a few items, like clothing and first aid kit, and now they are actually in a pretty fancy store, because Henry saw something in the window, that he really wants Adelaide to try on. He grabs the dress and a pair of heels that would match. ‘Try this on,’ Henry says to her.

She frowns. ‘Why?’

‘Just to humor me. Pretty please.’

Adelaide simply rolls her eyes, but does walk into the changing room. He hears her softly hum as she gets changed and the camera’s are spread over the store, capturing every moment. ‘You done?’ he asks.

‘Almost,’ she says. ‘But you can open the curtain. Maybe you can even help me zip up.’

He would love that. With the upmost discretion, he opens the curtain, making sure the camera’s can’t pick up on them. ‘Give me kiss,’ he mouths.

‘Why?’ she soundlessly whispers back,

‘Just do it,’ he says without making noise.

He zips her up, glancing at her body and with a certain elegance and grace, Adelaide steps out of the changing room, twirling in front of the mirror.

‘You like it?’

‘I don’t just like it, I love it,’ he admits, leaning with his shoulder against the wall.

‘Why did you want me to wear them, mister Cavill?’ she asks him, walking up to him, stopping right in front of him.

‘Just because,’ he mumbles.

‘That’s not a good enough reasoning for me.’

He wonders what it would be like to have an honest to God relationship with the lovely Adelaide Park. She teases him a lot, she uses him as a personal pillow and seems to enjoy his presence. Henry would love it to do this a lot more often: take her out shopping. It doesn’t have to be extravagant like this, even a domestic run through the grocery store would suffice.

Adelaide’s hand grazes over his chest and he quickly places his on hers. ‘I just figured it would look beautiful on you and I was totally right.’

He can see it, she is lost in his eyes for a few seconds. She visibly shakes herself out of her thoughts, before simply rolling her eyes—defense mechanism, pretending that she doesn’t care about his words, it’s adorable, really—and stepping back into the changing room. ‘Addy, give me the heels and dress.’

‘Why?’ he hears from behind the curtain.

‘Because I’m going to buy them for you.’

‘I thought you were my partner, not my sugar daddy.’ She pulls the curtain aside and she is wearing her own dress again, while she is slipping on her own shoes again. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘I do,’ he tells her. ‘Please, let me buy this for you.’

‘It’s expensive,’ Adelaide retorts.

‘Doesn’t matter. I have not one, but two cards with me: think I will be fine.’ He takes the black dress and the heels with him and walks over to the counter, to pay for them.

‘You look forward to camping with me?’ she asks.

‘I look forward to do anything with you,’ he chuckles, causing her to blush. ‘You’ve ever been camping before?’

That is such a stupid question, he thinks to himself. Probably not, since she told him about her family situation.

She simply shakes her head and from the looks of it, she’s not bothered by his question. ‘You?’

‘As a kid, yeah. But I mostly just followed my dad.’

‘More experience than me,’ she chuckles. She takes a sip of her cappuccino and says: ‘Just have to tell you, that I don’t really like night time.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s dark,’ Adelaide tells him. ‘And I might be a little bit afraid in the dark, if you hadn’t noticed that already with the haunted house.’

Henry chuckles. ‘A little bit, but don’t you worry about a thing. I’m going to be right there with you. Besides,’ he says, ‘I don’t care about winning.’

‘Sure you do.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t and don’t fight me on that,’ he jokes, pinching her cheek.

◎ ◎ ◎

‘Henry, could you come in here?’

Adelaide’s voice is coming from the bathroom and he stops in front of the closed door. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, worry running through his veins.

‘There is a spider here and I want you to kill it.’

That’s actually quite the relief and it causes Henry to smile. He opens the door, only to discover that she is simply leaning against the wall. Adelaide places her finger on her lips and gestures to close the door. The door clicks shut behind him and she walks over to him. ‘What are you—’ He can’t finish his sentence, because she plants her lips on his, wrapping her arms around his neck. Henry melts against her body, placing his hands on her waist and chuckles. ‘Never knew you could be this sneaky, Addy.’ He lifts her on the counter and gives her another kiss. ‘I missed your lips.’

‘I missed yours too,’ she whispers. ‘I fear that this is because it’s all new and exciting, but I really can’t stop kissing you.’

He never expected her to be this bold, but he also feels like she has been holding back all along. The world is seeing one version of Adelaide Park, while there is an even more complicated one hidden behind a large wall, that she build over the years.

‘I can’t stop either,’ he confesses, leaning in to kiss her again.

She tilts her head when he lets go of her, her thumbs slowly caressing his cheeks. ‘Henry,’ she whispers, ‘I’m worried for tomorrow.’

‘Why is that?’

She simply shrugs. ‘I’m just afraid that I’m going to let you down.’

Richards words flash through his mind for a single second. ‘Don’t be. I don’t care about winning anymore, especially because I won the greatest prize already.’ He buries his face in her nape, to press a delicate kiss on her skin. ‘We’ll see how it goes, okay? But remember, you and I are together every single minute. I’m not leaving you alone, because I know that is what you are worried about.’

Adelaide nods, as she looks a bit caught. ‘Pinky promise?’

He holds out his pink, hooking it behind hers. ‘Pinky promise,’ he whispers, pressing a kiss on her fingers.

‘Now get out, I need to get ready for our swimming session.’ With a wide grin, she pushes him out of the bathroom and he can’t help but laugh. A blush is set on his cheeks and he grabs his own swimming trunks. Adelaide walks out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her and a huge smile on her face.

‘I am.’

He gets in the cold water and places his hands in the dips of her waist. Henry enjoys these swimming moments they share together. Her body is always so close to his and the evening sun making her like an ethereal goddess. It’s such an honor that she trusts him this much. Nowadays they don’t stay near the edge, they actually go a bit more to the middle, so she has more room to move.

Just like usual, she hisses as she hits the water and wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders. She wraps her legs around his hips and that is the first time she actually does this. Not that he is complaining at all.

It’s just that he keeps thinking to himself that he is not a teenager anymore and this shouldn’t make him this excited.

Adelaide manages to actually sort of swim, but he keeps his hand on her stomach, making sure she keeps floating. ‘Don’t let go of me,’ she tells him.

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

She reaches the edge, placing her underarms on it. A chuckle of disbelieve leaves her lips. ‘I sort of did it myself.’

‘I’m so proud of you,’ he says with a smile, standing right next to her. He know he shouldn’t be this obvious, but he can’t stop himself. He places his thick arm right next to hers, his hand covering hers. His other hand is still hidden underwater, but his heavy hand is firmly on her back.

Adelaide looks up and it looks like she doesn’t care about hiding anymore. She leans against his chest, her hot breath and lips against his skin. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers.

Adelaide starts to shiver a bit and he presses his forehead against her temple. ‘Let’s get out of the pool. It’s becoming colder.’

‘Good night,’ she says, holding his hand tightly in hers.

Henry’s fingers run through her hair and carefully presses a kiss on top of her head. He doesn’t care about winning anymore.

The one thing he cares about, is Adelaide Park.

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