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imagine-darksiders · 6 years ago

Text

Afterburn

Chapter one - Adjustment period.

Minecraft Story Mode - R O M E O + J E S S E

Words: 12,912

Summary: It’s the day following Jesse’s triumph over the Admin, and in a move that rattled all of Beacon Town, their plucky hero extended a hand of friendship to her former adversary and allowed him to recuperate within the city walls, at least for a time before he would inevitably set out for the Underneath to find Xara.

Stripped of his powers, confused and ashamed, Romeo must venture out into the city that ultimately hates him in the vague hopes of restoring the hurt he’s caused. The problem is, he doesn’t know how.

It’s a good thing then, that Jesse does.

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Tags: Female Jesse; The Admin; Romeo; Radar; Jack; Nurm; Angst; Slowburn; hurt/comfort; budding friendship; Romeo gets protective; impromptu cafe date; villain experiencing real kindness for the fist time in a long time; there is a hug;

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Alright, so I know this isn’t a Darksiders fic but to be honest, I’ve felt like they’ve been lacking a little recently, so I thought step right away and write something for my second favourite fandom, just to refresh my brain :) I’d love to know your thoughts X

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Power corrupts.

Odd how one little locution could plague the guilty conscience of a man who wholly believed for years that he was the exception to such a rule.

Sitting alone in the dark at the end of a queen-sized bed, the disgraced admin – Romeo – expels a long, pent up sigh, bending forwards until his elbows rest on top of his knees, pale fingers clenched tightly around fistfuls of bouncy, scarlet hair.

The silence of early morning is disturbed only by the rhythmic 'tap,' 'tap,' 'tap,' of his sneaker's heel on the birch wood floor and a whispered word that slips, soft and reverent as a prayer, from his tongue.

“Fred...”

Romeo couldn't tell if the choice in flooring was the reason he'd been given this room, or if it had merely been an unfortunate happenstance that nobody thought of in the midst of yesterday's pandemonium. Not that it particularly mattered, in the end. He was never going to get any sleep in here regardless.

Fred had loved birch. Fred had also been an admin, right there alongside Romeo; the man who was supposed to be his best friend.

Though unlike Romeo, when Fred gained his omnipotence, he had remained completely unaffected by the bewitching delirium that comes with obtaining phenomenal power. Xara too, the third and final admin, had managed to stave off its influence.

Not Romeo, however. The power that came with being an Admin had not only corrupted him, it had shoved and bullied its way between his ribs, sunk its jagged teeth into his heart and clung on with a stubborn fervour that refused to be shaken loose. It turned him into something monstrous and the most harrowing part was, he hadn't even noticed the transition that had been so painfully obvious in hindsight.

A tiny sliver of sunlight finds a gap in the bedroom curtain and creeps steadily across the floor towards Romeo's feet. Absently, he watches its gradual journey, noting with no small degree of nausea that morning has indeed come, despite his efforts to stave it off so he might be allowed to wallow in self pity forever and a day inside this dark room, in the left wing of Jesse's Order Hall.

At the thought of Beacon Town's hero in residence, the former admin tugs a little more sharply on his hair.

Jesse....Her name leaves a bitter taste on the back of his tongue. Not because she had defied all odds and defeated him, turned him from a near–god to the tiny weakling he used to be, so very long ago, but because she – however unintentionally – serves as a glaring reminder of everything he wants to be. Everything he ever wanted to be.

Liked. Loved. Admired...

... A friend.

That's what it was all about. His power mad, envy-driven rampage was simply down to the fact that he wasn't Jesse. And even when he was her, for that briefest of moments, it didn't go as he imagined it would.

When Jesse was Jesse, she was adored. When Romeo was Jesse, somehow he still managed to botch things up and turn that carefully accumulated love into fear and hate.

It wasn't until the end that he recognised the heinousness of his actions - when it was all over and he was staring up at her from the cold, hard ground in terminal space.

Power corrupts. Stripped of it, and he'd been rendered lucid and humble – devastatingly aware of what he'd done under its influence.

At long last, Romeo's fingers disentangle themselves from his hair and he lowers them gently to the dusty pink duvet at his sides.

Already the sunbeam has moved over his shoes and is well on its way up the opposite wall. The ex-admin glares at it with more heat than is really necessary. He can't very well continue to mope around inside this guest room all day, not the room that Jesse always reserves for her friends, if the polaroids scattered on a patch of wall above the headboard are anything to go by.

Romeo had passed several hours last night scouring them, staring up into the beaming face of the hero herself, with her arms slung around the shoulders of a heavy-set man, hair black as an enderman's hide and clad in an emerald green shirt. He towered over the other two; Jesse, and a woman dressed almost exclusively in red, who's eyes were sharp enough to cut diamonds, dark and analytical. Romeo had hardly bothered to learn Axel and Olivia's names in the beginning. They weren't Jesse.

For a long time, he'd stared and stared and stared at the pictures, wondering why he was suddenly hit by a nagging sense of deja vu, and then aghast to lift his fingers and find an unfamiliar wetness forming on his cheeks.

There they were, all three friends. The brains, brawn and in the middle – always in the middle – was the heart. Romeo had had to exercise an extraordinary level of self restraint to keep from tearing those photographs off the wall.

Heaving out a weary sigh, he scrubs a hand over his face and pushes himself off the bed, stretching out a kink in his back with a grunt, knowing he can't continue to delay the inevitable. Eventually, he'll have to wander outside and face the mistrustful, scathing glares of the Beacon Town residents.

...Might as well get it over with.

Smoothing out the wrinkles in his grey t shirt, Romeo sucks down a steadying breath and drags himself over to the door. His hand has just grasped the metal knob when he pauses, bracing himself for...what?

For facing the full extent of what he's done?

For the hateful words whispered behind his back?

For Jesse to turn that unwaveringly patient gaze onto him and ask with a genuine smile, “How did you sleep?” As if he hadn't tried to kill her and her friends on multiple occasions. As if he hadn't tried to bedrock over her whole world like a toddler throwing a tantrum when it didn't get its way.

A groan bubbles up the old admin's throat but he swallows it down, taking in a deep inhale through his nose and letting it out again in a loud, gushing sigh.

Before he can give into the temptation of retreating underneath the duvet again, Romeo sets his jaw, turns the knob and yanks the bedroom door open, stepping out into the wide corridor...

...and straight into Jesse's skittish intern.

The young, bespectacled man had been happily ferrying an enormous stack of build authorisation documents from Jesse's office to the dingy vault down inside a basement beneath the Order Hall. The papers are all a formality, of course. Typically, the hero in residence is more than glad to let people build whatever they want. But apparently, the lack of organisation had vexed Radar so much, he sat down one evening when he had nothing else to do and drafted up records of every past, current and future construction project in Beacon Town. When he handed them to Jesse, she hadn't had the heart to tell him they were a bit redundant.

Unfortunately, the precarious pile was stacked so high, he couldn't see where he was going, relying more on his in-depth knowledge of the hall's layout than his own eyesight. So in choosing to step out into the corridor at that precise second, the ex-admin really threw a wrench in the works.

The intern crashes into Romeo with a sickening crunch, prompting the former to blurt out a yelp as he bounces off a sturdy body and topples backwards, throwing his arms out to catch himself and subsequently scattering his carefully organised paperwork all over the place. He lands on his rear, the impact jarring him and flinging the glasses off his nose where they clatter to the ground at Romeo's feet, who - for a few, terse seconds – remains rooted to the spot, starting down at the boy as a tiny inkling of dread begins to gnaw at his gut.

'Oh no...That's Jesse's intern. I just knocked Jesse's beloved intern to the floor,' he shudders, 'If this is any indication of how my day is going to pan out, I'm heading back to bed.'

Suddenly, Radar lets out a pitiable whine and leans forward to pat around on the carpet in search of his glasses, soft brown eyes squinted harshly under puckered brows. “Oh my gosh! I-I am so sorry.” he stammers, catching the former admin by surprise, “I didn't see you there!” He continues to ramble out apologies, his fingers skirting closer and closer to the glasses but never quite near enough to find them.

It's at that point Romeo realises that the kid has no idea who he'd just crashed into.

Part of him is tempted to quietly slip away so he won't later be accused of picking on the Hero's friend. Glancing over a shoulder, he takes a step back. Then, quite unexpectedly, he's drawn to a halt by one, quiet thought. 'What would Jesse do?'

...Probably something noble, heroic even. Jesse would lift Radar to his feet, brush him down and softly reassure him that it was her fault for walking into him.

The ex admin has to bite down on his tongue to keep a sigh from escaping. Here he is, vowing to be a better person and he can't even nail down the basics. Face burning with shame that the prospect of sneaking away had even occurred, he bends to one knee and gingerly retrieves the boy's spectacles, mumbling, “Here,” and pressing them into Radar's outstretched hands.

“Hey, thanks!” The relief in the young man's voice is palpable as he sits back and hurriedly slides the glasses back into place on his nose, blinking a few times and roving his gaze upwards from a pair of red sneakers. “Sorry for bumping into you. Wasn't really watching where I-” The moment his eyes meet Romeo's jet-black stare, Radar freezes and his words sputter to an abrupt halt whereas the former admin utters a completely ineloquent, “U-um,” before he falls silent, flexing his fingers and glancing between the intern's gaping mouth and the papers littered about on the floor.

Clearing his throat, Romeo tries again, grimacing when it still comes out as a croaky, “Uh..”

Good grief, just yesterday he couldn't shut up, but now it's as though someone has coated his tongue in lead. Radar's face is a confused amalgamation of worry, trepidation and suspicion, but above all, fear.

'They don't love you, they're afraid of you!' Jesse's desperate cry rings in his ears, twisting Romeo's features into a crestfallen frown.

After a moment or two of uncomfortably being subjected to the youngster's guilt-inducing stare, the former admin hesitantly reaches down to offer him a hand, choosing to ignore Radar's less than subtle flinch.

“Here, let me he-”

“NO!”

The blurted exclamation catches Romeo off guard and he jerks his arm back just as the boy lurches forwards and scoops the sheets away, clutching them protectively to his chest, eyes wide behind his glasses. “Uh! I-I mean, I've got this,” he squeaks, ripping his focus away and hurriedly scraping his precious papers together, “You-you should go and find Jesse.”

The intern's reaction shouldn't have stung the way it had, alas, Romeo finds himself wilting at the outright rejection of his offer to help.

Clenching and unclenching his hands, he merely observes as the young man frantically stacks his papers into neat, little piles. All too soon, the quiet becomes too thick and a sudden urge to break it nearly overwhelms the former admin, prompting him to gulp loudly and ask “Jesse....wants to see me?” The heart in his chest gives a resonant buck in the same manner an unruly student's might if they were asked to pay a visit to their headmaster's office.

There's an unexpected degree of apprehension in his tone that gives the intern pause. Glancing up, Radar cocks his head at Jesse's former adversary and chews absentmindedly at his bottom lip. “Um..Not exactly. She told me to tell you – if I saw you – that she's...she's at Nell's house.”

He finally places the last sheet on top of the stack, hefts them all up into his arms and attempts to get to his feet but nearly drops everything all over again when a large, strong hand slips around his skinny wrist. Startled, he jumps at the unexpected contact, fighting against a compulsion to shake himself free as he's gently tugged upright. The instant he's steady on his feet and no longer in danger of tottering backwards under the weight of all those papers, the hand swiftly retracts.

Peering around his pile of documents, Radar gapes after Romeo, who's turned on his heel and is beating a hasty retreat towards the hall's front entrance, head ducked low and hands stuffed into his pockets.

Once their old enemy has disappeared through the doors and they slam shut with an almighty boom, Radar lets out a wheeze and slumps a little on his trembling legs.

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“Jesse, dude? You have outdone yourself once again.”

Nell claps a hand down on the hero's shoulder and the two of them step back to admire the statue sitting on a pedestal just outside Nell's front yard. For the better part of the morning, Jesse had painstakingly set about removing the Admin's handiwork that had been built on top of the original sculpture she'd made specifically to welcome her new friend into Beacon Town.

Wiping her palm through the light sheen of sweat gathered on her forehead, Jesse turns to shoot Nell an apologetic frown. “It's nothing. I'm just sorry I didn't change it back before. But I didn't want to get you in trouble with you-know-who.”

And a good thing too, considering that mere seconds after she'd made the executive decision not to tear down Romeo's statue, the man himself had materialised out of thin air to carry out an impromptu inspection.

“Oh pshaw! Don't sweat it, pal!” she replies, blowing a long, blonde strand of hair out of her face, “You probably did me a solid. No telling what that Admin guy would have done if you'd-” Just then, Nell's voice cuts off and her head snaps to one side, looking past the resident hero at something in the distance. “Uh, oh,” she mutters a moment later, a phrase that send cold fingers of dread creeping up Jesse's spine.

“Uh oh? Nell, you know those are two of my least favourite words.”

But her free-spirited companion is too busy staring apprehensively across the square to respond. Instead, she nods towards the beacon that gave the town its name, her eyes narrowed to soft, blue slits. “Speak of the devil...” she warns.

Jesse follows her line of sight and begins to scan the crowd until she eventually spots a familiar mop of wavy, red hair poking out from behind the monument's low wall.

Inevitably, there is an instance in which her heart rate quickens at the sight of her former adversary and she has to remind herself – quite forcibly – that he isn't a threat any more.

Stamping down on her gut reaction to move in front of Nell, she raises an arm and waves at him. “Romeo! Over here!”

The ex admin – who until that moment had been lingering beside the beacon, trying to work out how best to approach the hero and her friend – gives a start, glancing left and right as if to make absolutely certain that she was addressing him before hesitantly returning her wave, albeit with far less enthusiasm.

Lowering her arm, she looks back at Nell. “Hey listen, I've gotta scoot, but it was great hanging out.”

“Wait, huh?” Her friend pales, tearing her eyes off the him to gape at Jesse, “Where are you goin'?”

“Got some errands to run. Thought I'd bring Romeo along to lend a hand.”

“....Who's Romeo?”

Jesse blinks, suddenly remembering that most of the town still only knows him as The Admin, and if he was ever going to be accepted, she would have to rectify that. “That's Romeo.” She juts her chin at the man standing beside the beacon, almost as though he's afraid that moving will provoke a nearby citizen to spontaneously attack. “He doesn't go by Admin anymore..”

Nell is quiet, wrinkling her nose and slowly blinking at the smaller woman. “...Seriously?” she says after a while, “Dude's name is Romeo?”

Huffing out a soft laugh, Jesse shakes her head and lightly touches her friend's shoulder in farewell. “You'll get used to it. I'll see you around, okay?” And with that, she turns on her heel and makes off towards Romeo. All of a sudden, a hand grasps her upper arm and pulls her to an unsteady halt, prompting her to glance back over her shoulder, one, dark eyebrow raised expectantly. “Um..Yeah?”

Nell promptly leans closer and puts her lips up to Jesse's ear, whispering into it consiprationally whilst keeping a flinty glare aimed in Romeo's direction. “Uh, Jesse? Pal. Now, I know you can handle yourself, but are you sure you wanna be..like.. alone with that guy?”

They both return their attention to the man in question and notice how he's hunched in on himself, eyes cast to the stone underfoot as a last measure of defence against the disdainful glares shot his way by nearly every Beacon Towner in his vicinity. Jesse notes – with a strange concoction of satisfaction and concern – that he seems a lot...smaller than he had been before.

Hooking her thumbs into the straps of her dungarees, the hero flashes Nell her trademark, reassuring grin.

“You don't have to worry. Romeo isn't the Admin anymore. And besides-” Her grin softens as she flicks her eyes back over at him. “- He's not gonna hurt me. I think he really wants to try and make up for what he's done.

Nell, however, doesn't look so convinced. This time though, she refrains from pulling Jesse back when the hero throws a farewell over her shoulder and strides across the square, meeting him halfway.

Pulling her lips into a tight line, Nell murmurs, “Man, I hope you're right, Jess. For your sake.”

The moment he sees Jesse move away from her friend, the former admin tenses, limbs locking up at his sides and he swallows, trying to gauge if her approach is threatening or not. Cautiously he observes her, privately marvelling at the openness of her face.

The corners of her mouth are turned up into an easy smile and her large, too-trusting eyes no longer burn with that ferocious determination he'd been privy to as her enemy. Now, as she draws nearer, he can make out the smudged khol still muddying the skin beneath her eyelids, evidence that she'd been too exhausted last night after her long ordeal to bother removing the make up before bed and there are even faint, red veins zigzagging across her sclera. Despite the airy smile plastered on her face, there's a shadow hanging over her, and a sluggishness to her gait that he hasn't seen before. Either she's been awake since the wee hours, or – like him – she'd hardly slept at all.

Both notions twist his stomach into remorseful knots.

“Hey, Romeo.”

He stiffens, blanching as he realises he'd been caught staring at her eyes while she made her way over to him.

With more effort than should really be necessary, Romeo blinks. “Oh, Jesse!” he blurts out, as though he's surprised to find her here at all, “Fancy running into you!”

The hero stops just shy of a metre from him, hesitates, and then takes another step closer. The gesture – though small – doesn't go unnoticed and his lips give an appreciative twitch.

“Yeah, sorry. Thought I'd get an early start on fixing some stuff around town,” she says, curling her fingers around a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Did Radar find you?”

She gestures down the road he'd just come from and beckons him to follow.

Hesitating for a second, he watches her stroll past him. Then, shaking his head, he hurries along after, easily matching her pace wit his far longer legs. “Yep,” he tries for a laugh that ends up sounding forced, “Jittery little fellow, isn't he? Said I might find you out here, talking to ol' Nellie.” He glances back to see the blonde watching him like a hawk, arms folded across her chest. “Good, uh..Good sort, that one.”

“Who, Nell? Yeah, she's good people. So glad she decided to settle down here. Radar too! I don't know what I'd do without him around. Probably forget a lot of social obligations for a start.”

Narrowly avoiding a painful collision with an exceptionally cross-looking woman's shoulder, he echos, “Social obligations?”

“Oh, that's Radar's way of trying to make mayoral responsibilities sound fun,” she explains breezily, “It's just stuff like, attending town meetings, overseeing build contests. Dinner parties, dance parties...”

“Sounds exhausting,” he admits, recalling the few days he'd tried being Jesse. The demand for his attention had bordered on oppressive and he'd only been subjected to it for a fraction of the time she had.

A trio of parrots that had busied themselves by idly hopping around the path in search of dropped food suddenly take to the sky at their approach. Jesse regards them wistfully, exhaling through her nose before she offers a response. “It's not so bad really. You get used to it.”

Romeo hums, scrutinising her from the corner of his eye. She doesn't sound as though she's used to it. In fact, she sounds like she wants to sprout wings and fly away with the rest of the birds.

She confirms his suspicions a moment later by quietly admitting, “I do miss being able to just go on adventures whenever I want. I'm not as...free as I was a couple of years ago.”

Once again, Romeo finds himself unable to offer little more than an evasive grunt, uncertain of how he ought to reply. In truth, he's distracted.

She fell into a conversation with him far too quickly and easily, she has yet to bring up the reason she brought him out here, nor where they're currently heading. And not once has she sent him the same, heated glare he seems to be receiving from every other person in town. To say his nerves are frayed would be an understatement. Romeo can't remember ever feeling so on edge, suspended in a state where he's perpetually braced for something bad to happen.

He very nearly asks her to just get it over with and start laying into him about what a terrible person he is, but at that moment, they turn a corner and his attention is immediately diverted elsewhere.

They've emerged onto a busy street, lined with quaint little cafes and general traders where the atmosphere is made bright and airy by slats of early morning sunlight that break through gaps in overhead structures to warm the stone beneath their feet.

Romeo's mouth falls open comically wide. “They've rebuilt so much already?”

It isn't difficult to detect the pride in Jesse's voice as she leads him towards a cafe at the very end of the road. “Yep, everyone here was super keen to get the town back to normal after – uh....” Awkwardly, she trails off, biting her lip and sending her former nemesis a sidelong grimace.

“After I destroyed it,” he finishes for her, his expression neutral, although she can see the tightness in his jaw.

“Hey now, you didn't... completely destroy it,” she offers lamely, hurrying past a house in the process of having it's entire roof reconstructed, “You just...sort of...revamped it. Yeah!” Smile renewed, she sweeps an arm out at the surroundings. “I mean, lose the golem guards, a few less fires and take away the threat of being zapped into a cage at a moment's notice-”

At her side, Romeo winces miserably.

“- and Beacon Town is pretty much back to normal.”

He gives her an incredulous squint, unable to stop a derisive snort from jumping out of his nose. “Sorry, normal? Are you forgetting about the ginormous, horrifyingly daunting tower of colossal proportions up there?” he huffs, throwing a hand up to indicate the structure looming over the rest of Beacon Town, casting its long shadow out over the western forest.

The Admin Tower. A monument he'd built as a show of his power and talent. It had seemed so impressive once. Now, he can hardly stand to look at the damn thing, standing there in all its ostentatiousness, his magnum opus that perfectly reflected its gaudy creator.

Jesse, however, appears to have a different opinion. “Okay, I didn't want to tell you this while you were...the old you,” she says behind her hand in a hushed tone, leaning close enough for him to catch a whiff of the sandalwood shampoo she uses, “But that tower? It's pretty mind blowing.”

“Mind blo- whu-?” Apparently, 'mind blowing' was the most apropos term she could have used. Tripping over his own tongue, Romeo nearly walks into a wooden chair sitting just outside the cafe they'd been heading towards, where small, square tables are dotted about and several bunches of daffodils rest in glass vases at the centre of each.

Casually, Jesse makes her way around the table and tugs out a chair on his opposite side, sitting herself down whilst he simply gawks at her, incredulous. “You...you like my build?” he breathes, his body moving of its own accord until he finds himself seated on his own chair without really registering the motion.

“Well, yeah! Why did you think we decided not to tear it down?” Jesse raises an arm to wave at someone behind him, though he's too taken aback to try and see who. “You were a jerk, sure. But that doesn't mean your builds weren't incredible! That icy palace of doom?” She leans forwards to rest her elbows on the table and sends him a pointed look, “Horrifying, don't get me wrong. But, credit where it's due – it was pretty awesome.”

The former admin's heart leaps into his throat, breath hitching at the approval she'd just hit him with.

“I still can't believe you built all that, just for me.” She shakes her head and her smile falters for a fraction of a second, a pensive frown darkening her eyes.

Momentarily, Romeo has to wonder why she'd think he wouldn't build something like that for a friend, but just as he opens his mouth to reply, he's cut off by the sound of a throat being cleared sharply to his right. Startled, he jerks his head around to see who'd rudely interrupted the conversation and nearly jumps out of his skin as a folded menu is brusquely shoved into his hands.

Standing over them, eyebrows slanted sharply in a seemingly permanent scowl, is a fair-haired man wearing a bright, green pinafore, his lips stretching into a tight smile which looks a hell of a lot more genuine when he turns it onto Jesse.

“Always good to see you, Jesse,” he drawls, handing her another menu, “We may not be back up to full efficiency just yet, but thanks to you, we're at least open for business.”

Ducking her head and lifting one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug, she replies, “Ah, it wasn't all me. Everyone's been pitching in to help get the city back to normal.”

“Indeed,” the waiter sniffs and pauses until she begins glancing over the menu before he throws Romeo a look dirty enough to stain, “Well...Almost everyo-”

“I think I'll have the rabbit stew!” A vicious glare accompanies Jesse's snapped interruption, though both are so out of place for the amicable hero, the men have to do a double take just to make sure it had been her who spoke.

After a brief second of stunned silence, the waiter gives a start and fumbles for his notepad, swiftly jotting down her order. “O-of course, rabbit stew. We can do that!” Turning hesitantly towards the former admin, the man whispers down to her, “And...uh...What'll he have?”

A rush of irritation tickles at the back of Romeo's mind, bridling at the waiter's attitude. However, the glimmer of anxiousness that flashes across Jesse's face catches his eye and quells that surge of aggression.

'You asked for this,' he reminds himself dismally, swallowing down the anger, 'However they treat you, that's on you.'

Sucking in a breath, he tries to respond when he realises there's a problem: He has no idea what's on the menu. He hasn't even looked at it.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he actually ate anything?

As an admin, he had no need for sustenance.

Now that he's normal though...

Romeo peers inquisitively at the dark-haired woman sitting opposite and cocks his head to one side, struck by a sneaking suspicion that she'd had a similar thought at some point or another. Why else would she bring him here?

Conscious that he still hasn't provided an answer, he settles to offer up a tiny shrug and utters, “Same as her.”

Clearly taken aback, the waiter's eyebrows shoot up his forehead and nearly disappear beneath his wispy, brown fringe. In the end though, he nods and all but snatches the menu out of Romeo's hands, taking Jesse's too before he bustles off back through the door leading into his cafe.

Once the little bell hanging above the entrance stops tinkling, the hero deflates, slumping forwards over the table and covering her face with her hands.

“I am...so sorry about that,” she moans.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, somewhat bitterly, “You didn't seriously expect it to be any different, did you? Not after how I...how I behaved.” Raising his eyes to the street, he counts no less than seven people who're trying to look busy while simultaneously throwing him wary glances every now and again. “I mean, it's hardly any wonder most of Beacon Town wants me gone...And I don't think they're very happy that you-” He jabs a slender finger across the table at her. “- decided to let me stay for a while.”

Pressing her lips together, Jesse frowns, cautiously venturing, “You know, Romeo...If you want to leave, I'm not going to stop you. The gate's right there. I just -” She heaves out a sigh. “- I know what it's like down there, in the Underneath. You do not wanna be there unprepared. I thought that, if you're really going to go and find Xara, you should at least wait until you get your strength back.”

Stubbornly folding his arms across his chest, he grumbles, “M'already strong.”

“You went from having god-like powers to having no powers at all.” Jesse drops her eyelids and levels a skeptical look his way. “Trust me. There'll be an adjustment period.”

And because she sounds as though she knows what she's talking about, because her eyes betray no disdain yet still make him feel about an inch tall despite being thousands of years her senior, Romeo doesn't argue - doesn't see any reason to. She's right. Loathe as he is to admit it, he isn't the same, powerful creator of worlds anymore, and that thought both comforts and terrifies him.

He meant what he'd said in the Terminal; that without his power, he's nothing – less than nothing. Just a shell of his former self.

For a while, they simply observe one another across the table, Romeo's hands slowly closing into fists atop the cloth. There's an apprehensive tension choking the air around him, borne of his own bewilderment.

Why is she acting like this? Why isn't she addressing the elephant in the room? How can she sit there in front of him – all smiles and impeccable manners – and imply that she gives a hoot about what happens to him? That's something friends do. And he and Jesse are not friends. He ruined any and all chance of that by being utterly monstrous to her.

Heart in his throat and now on his sleeve, Romeo suddenly heaves himself halfway out of his chair, knocking it back a few feet.

Jesse blinks, but doesn't otherwise react as he stares her down, unaware of the tremor in his arms that are braced against the tabletop. “Alright! That's it!” he blurts out, “I can't take anymore of this!” Through gritted teeth he chokes out, “Why are you being so. Bloody. Nice!?” He punctuates the final word by slamming a fist down, rattling the flowers in their glass jar.

Over his rapid intakes and exhales, he notices that the whole street has gone deathly silent, and he doesn't need to look to know that everyone is staring at him, watching with baited breath to see if they need to step in and defend their beloved leader who has the ex admin locked in her tired, green gaze.

It's under that gaze that he finally begins to wither, the frustration leaving him like water from a leaky pail.

Jesse lowers her eyes and he finds himself moving down with them, sinking back into his chair as his mouth opens and closes around an apology, never quite finding the courage to break the spell of quiet. He wishes she would though. It's becoming unbearably thick.

All of a sudden, the bell above the cafe door rings loudly and he jumps, shoulders tensing when the waiter approaches their table with two, steaming dishes of stew balanced in each hand.

“Sorry for the delay,”he says, setting one dish in front of Jesse and promptly dropping Romeo's in his place, mindless of the stew that sloshes dangerously close to the rim, “Will that be everything?”

At last taking her eyes off the former admin, she turns a smile up at the waiter and nods. “That's great, thanks.”

“Well...You let me know if you need anything.”

Romeo has a feeling that the offer doesn't extend to him.

With a last, lingering glare, the man strolls off back into the cafe and the silence descends over them once more.

Desperate for something to do with his hands, Romeo hastily picks up a small fork and uses it to prod at his stew with feigned interest.

“Romeo.”

The utensil slips from his fingers and tumbles into the food with a wet splat, sending flecks of gravy flying in all directions. Reluctantly, he lifts his head to look at her and braces himself for a scolding.

Instead, she throws him off kilter by flashing a toothy smile and pointing her fork at his face. “I don't know if you remember how food works, but it's supposed to go in your mouth, not on your chin.”

“Huh?” His hand flies up and, sure enough, there's a spattering of thick, clumpy goop stuck to his red tuft of beard. Grumbling, he scrubs it off with the back of a hand, glowering at the hero. “Don't change the subject...You didn't answer my question..”

Now it's her turn to stare down into her stew and shovel some meat idly across the dish. “You want to know why I'm being nice?” she reiterates, peering up at him through her dark lashes.

Swallowing, Romeo nods.

The young hero sits back in her chair, humming and searching his face intently before she eventually takes a breath. “It's because -”

“It's because she's Jesse.”

The two of them give a start at the sound of a gruff, surly voice calling out from somewhere nearby and suddenly, strong fingers clasp Romeo's shoulder, pulling an undignified squawk from his throat.

“Oh no,” Jesse mumbles, covering part of her face with a hand as a burly man sporting an eye patch and an impressive beard saunters around Romeo towards her side of the table and grabs a chair from nearby, dragging it right up next to her and plonking himself down into it with one, broad shoulder pressed up against her. His lips pull back over his teeth to grin at the ex admin, though it only invokes the image of a lion baring its teeth.

Thoroughly cowed, Romeo shrinks further into his seat.

Eyes as hard as an iron block, a thick mane of dirty blonde hair and muscles that bulge out from beneath the sleeves of his navy vest – It isn't difficult to recognise the newcomer.

Puffing out his chest, Jack sniffs, staring his former nemesis down from across the table.

Without his powers, Romeo can at last appreciate just how intimidating Jack is. Even sitting down, he manages to dwarf Jesse.

Exasperated yet too fond of him to push him off, she resigns herself to lean into his shoulder, throwing Romeo an apologetic look.

Years ago, Jack had lost two of his best friends – Sammy and Vos – to the Admin's sea temple during a hunt for the legendary treasure supposedly buried within.. Their deaths had utterly devastated the man, left him with post traumatic stress disorder and a lingering tendency to fret profusely over those closest to him.

Jesse is among the few friends he has, which has – on more than one occasion - rendered her prone to his often overprotective nature.

“Hrnn!” A second voice, this one far gentler than Jack's, draws their attention and before they know it, a villager has slipped into another chair on Jesse's right, though at a much less invasive distance. “Hmm, hrn hnn,” he continues, scowling at the adventurer, who blinks rapidly and recoils, affronted.

“I am not, Nurm,” he hisses before raising his voice, throwing an arm around Jesse's shoulders and grinning, “What? I'm not allowed to say 'hello' to a friend?”

Rolling his eyes, the villager lets out a huff and shifts around to smile warmly at the girl.

“Hey Nurm,” she greets, earning a soft hum as he extracts a hand from his robes and lays it gently over hers, patting it fondly.

That simple action sends a pang of longing racing through Romeo's chest.

There'd been a time - long, long ago – when he, Xara and Fred had been that close. Close enough for physical touches that didn't hurt.

For a moment, it feels as if he's the interloper here, and they're the ones who Jesse had invited to eat with her.

“So,” Jack barks suddenly, clapping his hands together and startling Romeo back to the present, “We were just passing by – totally not following you, by the way – and we couldn't help but overhear you shouting at our Jesse here.”

At his side, Nurm grunts, mimicking his partner's stern glare.

The young woman sandwiched between them must have noticed that Romeo's face turns ashen because she carefully squirms until Jack gets the message and retrieves his arm from her shoulders. Once free, she taps a finger sharply on his clenched fist, a subtle, silent command which he reluctantly obeys, letting his fingers stiffly unfurl until they lay flat on the tablecloth.

“Romeo and I were just having a chat.” She glances at him pointedly. “Right?”

At the other end of the table, the ex admin runs a finger around the inside of his collar, adam's apple noticeably bobbing up and down and betraying his anxiousness. “We were! I-I was just asking her-”

“-Why she's being so nice to you. Yeah, we heard,” Jack interrupts, rolling his good eye, “The whole of Beacon Town heard.” Under his breath, he utters, “And most of us are asking ourselves the same question..”

Releasing his shirt, Romeo drops his hand against a thigh where it lands with a soft 'thwap' as he sighs defeatedly, forehead puckering. “I just don't get it,” he mumbles, partly to himself, partly to the other three, “She should hate me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the rest of us do,” Jack helpfully puts. A loud thump from under the table accompanies Nurm's admonishing, “Hrrm!” and the bearded adventurer flinches, wincing.

“Ow! What the heck was that for?”

Leaning back in his chair, Romeo waves a dismissive hand at the villager. “No, no. He's right. I mean, I'm not completely blind – not anymore... - Everyone's got a good reason to hate me. Especially you.” His dark eyes find Jesse's and hold her gaze for several seconds before his nerve gives out and he drops his head again.

Nobody speaks for a time, Jack, Nurm and Jesse all exchanging sidelong glances while their old enemy watches the steam slowly rise from his food.

Jack can feel his other half's wizened stare on the side of his head, but he pays Nurm no mind, too preoccupied with scrutinising the disgraced admin before them.

Admittedly, he is a rather sorry sight.

Pallid complexion, dark circles beneath his eyes that make even Jesse's look small, hunched shoulders and a general lack of deluded grandeur leaves Romeo a damn sight less impressive than he'd once been.

Deep, deep down, there's a tiny part of Jack that sympathises. Losing that sort of power in one fell swoop would take a toll on most people. He imagines it would feel like having his own rippling, super athletic arms taken away and replaced with...with baby arms, or something. The very notion sends a shudder coursing through his body. “Listen, er...Romeo,” he begins, scratching at his nose, “I gotta be honest – Jesse here? Heck, I don't think this kid could hate anyone. Now, I'm not saying that's a bad thing!-”he rushes to explain as the young woman opens her mouth to protest. “I just mean, this isn't exactly the first time she's forgiven someone who almost destroyed the world.”

Nurm hums his agreement.

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad,” the hero in question mumbles, abandoning all hopes of eating her stew while it's still hot. Luke warm would have to do.

At her statement, Jack barks out a laugh.“Ha! Not from the bad guy's perspective!”

Romeo can't help but to purse his lips, nodding soberly. “S'true. When I was the Admin, that selflessness of yours? Bah! Oh, I just thought it was pointless! Now though...” An incredulous smile nudges at one side of his mouth. “I'd have to say, I think it's one of your more attractive traits.”

He doesn't miss the way Nurm and Jack bristle, whereas Jesse herself raises a sly brow and the corner of her lips begin to twitch. It takes him a second to place a cause for their reaction. “Oh for!- Not attractive like that!-” Blowing out a rasping huff, he prays that the heat creeping up his cheeks isn't too noticeable. “You know what I meant.”

Harrumphing, Jack narrows his eyes but at least the tension drains from his shoulders.

“Well, Jack, Nurm-” the young hero nods to each of them in turn. “-It was great to see you guys...” She trails off, leaving her sentence open-ended in the hopes they'll interpret her hidden prompt to bid farewell. Jack looks about ready to batten down the hatches and glue himself to the chair, yet his intentions are thwarted as the villager gets to his feet, gesturing at the dishes of stew and murmuring something to the gruff man beside Jesse.

“Nurmie, the food isn't getting cold,” Jack huffs, following his partner's lead regardless and standing up. “Look! I can still see the steam....Oh wait, no. No I can't. Sorry Jess.”

Wordlessly, she shakes her head and grins, waving his apology aside.

Eyeballing Romeo for a last, lingering moment, he turns to her and rumbles, “Hey, listen...Me and Nurm are gonna go start putting the shop back together.” He lowers his voice, adding gently, “If you need anything, you come get us, okay?”

Sometimes, Jesse wonders if anyone even remembers that she can look after herself.

However, for the umpteenth time in her life, she decides to humour him. “Don't worry, Jack. I will. Bye Nurm!”She waves at the villager who has made his way around the table and takes his partner's elbow, tugging the larger man away from Jesse.

“Hrrm, hnn!” he chimes, waving back. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he offers a small nod to Romeo after which he and Jack make their way back down the street, heading for their home.

Twisting around in his seat, Romeo stares after them, teeth worrying at his bottom lip as a nagging thought pushes to the forefront of his mind and before he can stop himself, he's calling out, “Hey! Hey Jack!”

The man jerks to a halt, spinning around, his good eye round with surprise.

For a second, Romeo falters, feeling the stares of every Beacon Towner boring into him curiously. Unfortunately, it's far too late to back out now. Besides, Jesse's watching. So, setting his jaw, he swallows his pride – what little he has left – and continues. “I never apologised! For...for Vos and Sammy!”

He hears a soft intake of breath from the hero behind him and very quickly realises that mentioning Jack's deceased friends – especially the one he'd impersonated – probably wasn't the best idea.

Even with the distance between them, they can see Jack's entire body stiffen, sorrow clouding his rugged features. There's a worrying second or two where Romeo is convinced that the adventurer will march right back over to the table and punch him square in the jaw. Apparently, Jesse seems to be on a similar train of thought as he hears the chair behind him scrape against the ground and her shadow falls across their table, letting him know that she's on her feet. Typical Jesse. Always prepared to intervene should a bust-up occur.

Neither of them need have worried though.

The villager at Jack's side rests a mollifying hand on his partner's rigid fist, squeezing gently until it goes slack. Then, without taking his eyes off Romeo, the adventurer turns his hand over and intertwines his fingers with Nurm's, returning the comforting squeeze while a humourless smile tugs at his lips and he softly calls back, “Sorry's just a word, pal. You want people around here to start forgiving you? You gotta show 'em you're sorry. No good just saying it.” Shaking his head slowly from side to side, he twists himself about, transferring Nurm's hand into his other one and the two of them start off down the path once again, though not before the former admin catches one last statement tossed over Jack's burly shoulder, one that's almost lost among the low hum of the bustling street. “But saying it is a start..”

Jesse and Romeo wait in silence until the adventurer and his companion turn a corner at the end of the road and disappear from view.

Several moments pass in which activity gradually picks up around the cafe again and all of Beacon Town seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Unsurprisingly, Romeo finds himself exhaling right alongside them. He turns back to face the hero in residence only to find her looking at him thoughtfully, a lopsided grin brightening her face.

“...What?” he asks after a pause.

With a coy shrug, she returns her attention to the stew on her placemat and stabs at a chunk of meat with the fork. Raising it up to her lips, she replies, “No, it's just... that was good of you. To apologise, I mean.”

He blinks as she pops the food into her mouth and immediately prepares a second forkful, etiquette all but forgotten in favour of eating the stew before it grows completely stone cold.

Hesitantly, Romeo lowers his eyes from her face and takes up his own fork, following Jesse's lead by scooping a piece of rabbit onto it. “He's right though, your friend...Saying sorry just doesn't feel like it's enough..”

Humming around her mouthful, Jesse gulps it down, pausing between her next bite to say, “That's because it kind of isn't.”

She's watching him closely now, expectantly, causing his ears to grow warm under the intensity of her stare as it follows the food all the way up to his mouth where he stops to give it a wary sniff before pushing the fork past his lips, eyes narrowed in anticipation. As soon as the meat hits his tongue, an explosion of flavour lights up his tastebuds and he's mortified at the groan that escapes him. His face must have done something funny as well, seeing as Jesse hastily brings a napkin up to her lips just a bit too late to hide her broad grin. “That good, huh?”

“Mhmm!” he nods eagerly, already shovelling in another fork load and nearly swallowing it whole. “Blimey!” he exclaims once he's no longer in danger of choking, “Remind me why I stopped eating food after I became an admin.”

Jesse's eyes sparkle like the sun on water. “If you think that's good, just wait until I reintroduce you to cake.”

Letting out an acknowledging grunt, Romeo wolfs down the rest of his meal, only sitting back when the dish is completely devoid of even the tiniest morsel. Using the back of a hand to wipe away any excess food off his chin, he sighs and offers the girl a contented smile. “Thanks for this, Jesse.” He indicates the dish, but hopes she'll figure out that he's thanking her for so much more. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Eh, you looked like you needed it.”

“No, seriously -” The former admin's expression turns instantly sober and he leans forwards, palms flat against the table. “I...what do I owe you?”

“Oh, don't worry about it,” she replies casually, putting her cutlery down inside the dish, “The guy who owns this place got into a bit of trouble with some skeletons last year and I saved him. Ever since then, he lets me and my friends eat here, totally gratis. You don't owe a thing.”

To her surprise, the ex admin roughly shakes his head, fingernails scraping over the tablecloth. “Jesse, please, you have to let me repay you somehow. How can I ever make up for what I've done if you won't let me?”

“Romeo,” she huffs, firmly enough to get him to pry his fingers from the table, “You don't need my permission. I'm not stopping you from doing good things. You should help people because you want to, not because I tell you to.”

“I – I do want to help people! But I just..I just...gah!” Frustrated, he exhales brusquely, slouching back into his chair and giving Jesse the most imploring look she's ever seen. It'd even put Radar's to shame. “I just don't know where to start.” Trailing off, he lowers his eyes down to rest on the hero's knuckles, where he can see the purpling bruises lingering on her skin, testaments of her final showdown against him. It seems even Fred's golden gauntlet – powerful as it was – couldn't wholly protect her from the full might of a desperate admin.

Unbeknownst to Romeo, his eyebrows knit together and he scowls darkly at the bruises, unaware that while he's peering at them, Jesse is busy casting a sympathetic glance over his face.

“You know,” she begins suddenly, drawing his head up a little, “If you really want to help out, I think I know how to get you started.”

Immediately, he brightens, “You do?”

The hero in residence doesn't bother to conceal her smirk. His enthusiasm had once been utterly horrifying and bordered on obsession, but now that he's no longer a giant megalomaniac, it's an unexpectedly endearing trait. “Come on,” she says, standing up and digging around in her pockets for something, “I'll tell you on the way.”

Curious, Romeo gets to his feet as Jesse fishes a gold nugget from her overalls and places it down next to her dish.

“Hey!”He points at it accusingly, trotting around the table and falling into step at her side. “I thought you said you ate here for free?”

“Yeah, I know,” she shrugs, “But...he works hard, and it just doesn't feel right to leave without a trade.”

“Hmph. No wonder they love you.”

She chuckles warmly but doesn't dispute his comment.

The unlikely duo make their way down the winding streets in silence, simply taking in the sounds of Beacon Town until Jesse leads him around a corner and the enormous, north gate comes into view. It briefly occurs to Romeo that she's taking him somewhere outside the walls.

“So, where exactly are we going?” he asks, eyeing a large, balding man leant against the side of a porch up ahead. The stranger has a mean glint in his eye, flicking a glare between Jesse and the ex admin with each glance growing increasingly sour.

“The mines,” she replies breezily, waving at a few passersby.

Romeo falters and stumbles on a piece of uneven cobblestone. “The mines? Why the mines?”

“Well,” she starts, biting the inside of her cheek and casting her eyes up towards the clouds floating along overhead, “Since someone decided to pull everybody out of the mines to prepare for a festival -”

The former admin cringes and hisses through his teeth, already realising what she's about to say.

“- No one's been down there to monitor the Heck mouth situation for like, three days.”

“Heck mouth?”

“That giant, monster-spewing hole in the ground? The one you made so I would find your gauntlet?”

“Ah...That Heck mouth.” Gnawing on his lower lip, Romeo exhales. “Listen, Jesse... I'm so-”

“It's done now,” she interrupts him gently, “What matters is fixing the problem.”

“Oh, I'll tell you how you can 'fix' the problem...”

Unexpectedly, Jesse's arm flies out, stopping Romeo in his tracks as a shadow falls over them and they find their path blocked by the same man he'd seen on the porch.

Electric blue eyes contrast the angry red flush blooming from the man's neck to his face. With flaring nostrils, he raises a hand and jabs Romeo in the chest, hard.

“You can fix it by doin' what you should've done yesterday, n'chucked this guy off the nearest cliff!”

He advances, forcing the ex admin to stumble back and bring his hands up, instinctively covering his face when, all of a sudden, despite being half a head shorter than either of the men, Jesse pushes herself between them, shoving the newcomer away from Romeo and thrusting her chin out, challenging him. “Hey! If you've got something to say, you can take it up with me.”

“Believe me,” he sneers, “I got a lot of things to say to you. The first bein,' how could you let this...this monster stay in Beacon Town!? You're s'posed to be keepin' us safe!”

Cowering behind the hero, Romeo has to marvel at this man's gumption, screaming into the face of the woman who defeated a Witherstorm and an Admin. Jesse – remaining true to her un-confrontational nature – does her best to pacify him, drawing his attention from Romeo and directing it onto her. “Look, you're angry. I get it, trust me. But there isn't any point taking it out on him now! It's over. He's done and he's trying to make up for it!”

But the man either isn't listening, or he simply doesn't care. Face contorted into an ugly snarl, he takes a step closer, bumping his chest against hers and glaring down his nose, forcing her neck to crane back just to keep his gaze. “Oh yeah? And you seriously believe that? Cos it seems to me he'll tell you anything just to save his own skin!”

Bristling like an angry ocelot, Jesse squares her shoulders and slowly grinds out, “He's telling... the truth.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I trust him!”

At her back, Romeo recoils a little and his eyes grow wide and round along with his mouth, which drops open to form a small 'oh.'

'She trusts me?' The impossible notion turns itself over and over in his head and he latches onto it, clinging tightly, too afraid to let it go.

Had he misheard?

No. Her words had been so firm and clear, he couldn't have misunderstood.

Is she lying?

Hardly likely. Jesse is one of the most frustratingly earnest people this side of the Nether.

So why in gravel's name would she ever trust someone like him? Nobody trusts him! - admittedly, with good reason. Not even Xara had, in the end. In fact, the last person who ever trusted him was Fred, and then he'd....he'd....

The painful memory resurfaces and Romeo scrabbles to squash it down, shaking his head to clear it and letting his eyes focus on the back of Jesse's head, a tender warmth igniting deep in his chest and gradually spreading outwards.

From what he catches, the man still hasn't calmed down and her attempts to sate his rage only seem to agitate him further.

“He'll turn on us the moment we let our guards down!” he roars, throwing an arm out that narrowly avoids clipping the young hero around the ear as he gestures over her shoulder at the ex admin.

“No, he won't. Look – Just -”Exasperated, Jesse knocks his arm aside. “- I don't want a fight to break out, okay?”

Finally, the man pauses, darts his eyes down to her face and then drags them back up to Romeo again. The lull in aggression entices Jesse into a false sense of security and her shoulders relax, a tiny breath hissing out between her teeth.

She should have known better.

Curling his lips back suddenly, the stranger growls, “Then you shouldn't have let him stay,” and before she knows what's happening, he brings an arm up again, this time using his elbow to shove her roughly in the ribcage, knocking her completely off balance.

In that instant, time slows for the former admin.

He sees Jesse teeter sideways, sees her expression of shock and disbelief. Then, he sees her hit the ground with a jarring thump, her palms scraping over the hard cobblestone as a cry bursts free from her lips.

After that, all he sees is red.

A terrible roar cuts clear across the square, turning every head and shaking Jesse out of her daze. Snapping her eyes open, she's just in time to witness a furious Romeo surge forwards to meet the man head on and seize him by the lapels of his jacket, hauling him off his feet and high into the air with a strength he simply shouldn't possess.

Kicking and struggling in the former admin's unshakable grip, all previous bravado seeps out of the man and his face turns ashen. “H-Hey!” he squawks, “Let me go, man!” Frantic, he grabs Romeo's hands and attempts to pry them off to no avail. “Somebody! Get this guy off me!”

Hearing the terror in his voice urges Jesse to scramble back onto her feet, wincing as she pushes off her grazed palms. “Romeo!”she shouts, “Put him down!”

People are starting to take notice, some fleeing the vicinity while others move a few steps closer, glancing between each other and the scene playing out before them, unsure of whether or not they dare intervene.

The ex admin is completely oblivious to it all.

His eyes are firmly locked on the man dangling from his grasp as a feeling akin to hatred begins to bubble up from his stomach, building to a roiling crescendo and spurring him to give his victim a violent jostle, pulling a whimper from his lips.

'Good,' he finds himself sneering gleefully, 'he deserves to be scared!'

Meanwhile, completely unbeknownst to him, Jesse has latched onto his forearm and is tugging on it for all she's worth. But it's as though he'd suddenly turned to stone. Limbs locked up, his sinewy muscles barely even quiver with the effort of keeping a man as large as he is aloft for so long, a fact that unnerves the young hero. She hadn't realised he would be this strong, even without his admin powers.

Desperation bleeds into her tone when she sucks down a deep breath and pulls herself up to be closer to his ear, yelling into it, “ROMEO! STOP!”

And just like that, as if emerging from a dream, he blinks, sound and awareness rushing back to him all at once. Turning his head stiffly to the side, he's startled to find Jesse's blazing, green gaze mere inches from his nose.

“J..Jesse?” he rasps as an instant wave of calm washes over him, dousing the fire in his belly.

She gives his arm another yank.“Romeo! You've gotta put him down, now!”

“Huh?” He jolts, finally registering an uncomfortable twinge in his arms and the fingernails scrabbling frenetically against his knuckles. Swivelling his head forwards again, the former admin gasps, seeing his hands clasped around the lapels of the man who'd pushed Jesse over.

When did he?.....

Deflating, he promptly drops the man in a heap on the cobblestone and staggers backwards.

Eyes. There are eyes everywhere. He can feel their hateful glares on him as he spins in a slow circle, taking in the small crowd of people that have gathered seemingly from nowhere to surround him.

“Jesse..” He turns to face her once more, slowly shaking his head. “I-I didn't..I didn't mean to-”

Trailing off, he bites down on the inside of his cheek when he sees the look on her face .

Frustration. Wariness. Disappointment.

He's suddenly hit with an itch to bury his head in a block of sand, if only to escape that expression.

Tongue glued firmly to the roof of his mouth, he takes a few, bumbling steps towards her, not missing how her shoulders tense at his approach. “Jesse, I am so, so sorry!-”

A murmur starts to circulate the crowd, growing louder until he can distinctly make out certain words that cut like knives, chipping away at his resolve.

“What was Jesse thinking?”

“Somebody throw him outta here!”

“-thought she said he was harmless?”

“He just attacked that guy!”

Eventually, someone scurries forwards from the crowd and grabs the man on the ground, helping him upright again but the moment he's steady, he shrugs them off, straightens out his jacket and shoots a dark glare at Romeo then turns to shake his head at Jesse before spinning on his heel and stalking towards the gaggle of onlookers.

A few of them part to let him storm by, several even following after him, no doubt in the hopes of garnering some more information about the encounter.

Romeo can do little but watch him leave, mouth opening and closing like the world's most helpless goldfish. He would probably have remained that way for many hours if Jesse's small, warm hand hadn't suddenly snagged his wrist and given him a sharp pull. Too stunned to protest, he allows himself to be dragged across the square in the direction of Beacon Town's front entrance.

'Oh, now you've gone and done it,' he admonishes himself miserably, 'Kicked out on day one...'

But just as they near the gate, the hero unexpectedly veers to her right, instead leading him on a new path towards the entrance to the town mines.

In spite of his confusion, he keeps his mouth tightly shut as she stomps down the narrow staircase, her fingers still closed like a vice around his wrist.

They get to the bottom and it's only then that she releases him.

He trails slowly to a halt and chews his lip, sheepishly watching her move several metres into the dimly lit mine before she whips around to glare at him, arms folded tightly across her chest and a slender eyebrow quirked expectantly.

“What-” She begins, voice terse, “-Was that!?”

“I-I don't-”

She cuts him off, throwing her arms up into the air and closing the distance between them. “You were doing so well! I thought I could trust you!”

She may as well have twisted her sword into his gut.

Staggered, Romeo wrings his hands together, coming dangerously close to pleading when he rambles out, “No! No, no, no, please! I – You can! You can trust me, I promise!”

He can't lose that. He can't. He hadn't felt that good in a long time when she said she trusted him.

Though his words are saturated in genuineness, Jesse doesn't seem convinced. Huffing, she pinches the bridge of her nose. “How can I? You just attacked that guy! Why? Why'd you freak out on him like that?”

Shuffling awkwardly, he looks down at the toes of his sneakers and mumbles something under his breath.

“What was that?” she asks briskly, cocking her head at him.

Drawing in a deep breath, he reluctantly pulls his eyes up to her again, swallowing thickly before he whispers, “He hurt you...”

“I-”Jesse falters, taken aback. “What did you say?”

A little louder, Romeo gestures to her weakly, repeating, “He... hurt you. I – I saw him push you and-...I don't know, I just....It's like I switched off! Like I wasn't in control anymore.”

She looks a little perturbed by his explanation but he doesn't know how else to word it. It is the truth, after all.

Ever so slowly, the young woman's face changes, moving from stern to puzzled before his eyes.

“Why would you care?” she says after a pregnant pause, “Dude, you literally tried to kill me. Like, a lot.”

“I know,” he breathes, wringing his hands, “And I can't ever take that back. But...when I saw him push you, after everything you've done for me, I couldn't just stand there and-...” He has to rein himself in after noticing that his fingers have begun to twitch in her direction.

For some time, only the sound of torches crackling nearby permeates the stillness of Beacon Town's mine.

In the end, it's Jesse who takes a tentative step forwards - once again bringing her within touching distance - and sighs, shoulders slumping as she rubs at her temples. “I guess I can't really be mad at you. Not if you were just trying to help...”

“Wait, what?” He recoils, squinting. “You're not...angry?”

Jesse emits an airy laugh.“For what? Standing up for me? If I got mad every time one of my friends did that, I'd spend my whole life in a bad mood! It will be harder to convince those people out there to let it slide though...” She chews on her lip, one side of her face scrunched up in thought. A few seconds later, she chuffs, hands coming up to rest on her hips and she aims a funny look at the former admin. “Man....It's hard to believe that just yesterday, you hated my guts, huh? Now you're defending me from the locals?”

“Jesse...” he frowns gently, “I never hated you.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Uh. Again – you tried to kill me?”

“I was angry with you. Livid!”A nervous little laugh wheezes out of him and he turns away. “I wanted to hurt you because you hurt me.”

Cocking her head to the side, Jesse pulls a face. “Romeo, what exactly do you think I did to hurt you in the first place?”

“You didn't want to be my friend,” he tells her simply with a shrug, “And don't tell me that sounds pathetic – I know it does. You were the one person I wanted to be my friend – the one person I thought would want me as a friend. But then, you didn't.” He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and kicks at a loose chip of stone, feeling Jesse's astonished stare on the side of his head.

Following a moment of hesitation, she says, “I... didn't realise it meant that much to you..”

The former admin doesn't respond, so she moves around to his front, ducking her head to catch his eye. “You must have been pretty lonely.”

“I wasn't lonely,” he protests weakly, “I was...I was....” But in lieu of any legitimate excuse, he trails off, averting his gaze to the walls, the ceiling – anywhere that isn't Jesse. In the end though, he slumps forward in defeat and finally drags his head up to look at her, swallowing audibly. “Alright, so maybe I was.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” The tilt of her lip lets him know that she's teasing and seconds later, she has her thumbs hooked into her overall straps as a pensive looks washes across her features. “Welp, I don't mean to brag, but I happen to know a thing or two about making friends.”

In spite of himself, a tiny snort betrays Romeo's bemusement. “So I've noticed.”

He balks when suddenly, Jesse reaches down and takes his wrist, just as she had outside, except this time, there's a grin on her face instead of a scowl whilst she pulls him further into the mines. Luckily, the gloom conceals a dusting of pink that creeps onto his cheeks at the unexpected contact. He allows himself to be guided once again towards a wall near the back of the main chamber, a place well lit by torches, until they come upon a humble little crafting table. It's surface is littered with notches and chips, worn down over the years by hundreds of experienced hands.

As they approach, Jesse's fingers slip from his arm and he instantly mourns the loss of gentle contact. She kneels down a few steps to the right of the table, in front of a wooden chest that looks to have received the same level of love, and places her hands on the lid, hefting it open.

A raucous creak rends the still air as the chest's hinges protest against the unexpected intrusion but it nevertheless swings open and thunks against the wall, giving Jesse enough space to plunge her arms inside and rummage around whilst Romeo lingers at her back, twiddling his thumbs and glancing up at a deposit of iron the craggy ceiling.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks, pulling out a wooden stick.

Without seeing her face, he can't hope to hazard a guess as to what she's thinking but she's dropped the jovial lilt from her tone. Uncertainly, he replies, “Uh, course you can.”

For a while, she hesitates, her shoulders heaving up and down though he doesn't hear her sigh. Another pause, then, “I meant what I said you know. Back in your tower.”

“Oh, um...” Romeo scratches absently at the back of his neck. “You might have to refresh my memory. It all just seems like a it of a blur now.”

She still doesn't turn to face him, and he's starting to think she's only pretending to look for something in the chest. He watches her place the sticks down next to her boots before she continues, “You were just about to bedrock over the world. And I said that we could still be friends, remember?”

“Y-yeah.” He blinks and leans an elbow against the crafting table. “Yeah, I remember, sure.” Though he wishes he didn't..

“Well, I wasn't just saying that to stop you. I knew there was at least some good in you and....I wanted to find it.” At last, she pulls her arms from the chest, bringing a pair of iron bars along as well. Then, gathering the stick in her free hand, she stands up and turns to face him fully, eyes shining with so much sincerity, his chest gives a dull throb.

“I really did want to be your friend, Romeo.”

A heavy weight settles like lead in his stomach. Just another chance, he'd squandered. “Guess I should have taken the offer then and there, huh?” he laments quietly, glancing down at his feet.

All of a sudden, a burst of laughter catches him by surprise and he lifts his head again to find Jesse shaking her head at him and beaming as she abruptly pushes the stick and iron bars into his arms. “The offer still stands, dummy!”

“Oh.” This time, there's no use hiding his blush. They're standing too close to a burning torch, the firelight illuminating his face and and setting sparks dancing in Jesse's eyes. Prying his tongue from the room of his dry mouth, Romeo croaks, “You're serious? You....you want to be my friend? What, even after-” He breaks off, gesturing at himself helplessly.

Jesse's hand finds his shoulder and turns him gently to face the crafting table. “Yeah, weirdly enough, I kind of do. You're not the bad guy anymore, and I think it's important you know that even if it doesn't work out with Xara or the rest of Beacon Town-” Her fingers give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before they slip from his shirt. “- You still have at least one friend out there.”

Romeo's arms clutch the items closer to his chest, a familiar ache beginning to build in his throat.

The next thing either of them know, he's dropped his load of crafting materials onto the table and lunged forwards, slinging his gangly arms around Jesse's shoulders and clutching tightly to the back of her overalls. He has to bend considerably to accommodate for her shorter height but in the spur of the moment, he barely notices the awkward angle.

Jesse meanwhile, lets out a startled yelp, although it's lost in the fabric of the former admin's shirt. Blinking, she turns her face to one side so that her cheek is squashed against his bony chest instead and she can strain her head back to peer up at the underside of his chin. He has his eyes clamped shut while a dopey grin gradually worms its way across his features.

Once the initial shock has worn off, Jesse finds herself relaxing slightly in his warm hold. It's less crushing that one of Petra's hugs and a little too angular to be as comfortable as Lukas's, but it's far from unpleasant and soon enough, she hesitantly slides her arms around his scrawny waist, feeling him flinch for a second before he promptly melts against her.

“Ha..Never had you pegged for a hugger,” she jokes.

Romeo's only response is to let out a soft hum, smile growing even wider until suddenly, he registers what he's doing and his eyes snap open. In a rush, he lets go and springs away from her as if he'd been stung, holding up his hands up and blurting out, “Oh, Nether! I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me.”

It could just be his imagination, but he'd swear that Jesse's laughter chases away the mine's oppressive gloom. “You don't have to apologise for hugging me! Actually, I think it's a vast improvement from yesterday.” She flashes him a wink, setting his nerves at ease.

“Sorry if it was weird,” Romeo mumbles, scuffing his sneakers on the ground.

“Not weird at all.” Knowing that the truth would only make him self conscious, she waves his apology aside. It had been weird to receive a hug from an ex-immortal who had shaped the very world she stood on. Weird; yes. Though certainly not bad.

He's starting at her again in such a way that reminds her briefly of how Ivor had looked at her when she told him he could build a home in Beacon Town. It was the first time she'd seen the old wizard's smile grow so tender.

Eventually, Romeo's attentive stare starts making her fidget and she clears her throat shyly, tucking a stray hair behind her ears. “We'd, uh...We'd better get to it. That Heck-Mouth isn't gonna check on itself.”

“Huh?” He shakes himself out of his trance. “Oh, right. Right. The Heck-Mouth, yeah.”

He moves back to the crafting table when Jesse taps it and raises a quizzical brow at him. “Just in case we run into trouble, I thought it'd be a good idea to make you a weapon,” she says, “When's the last time you crafted something without your Admin powers?”

“Ah. Heh. I suppose it has been some time,” he confesses, rubbing at his beard.

“Don't worry about it, you'll relearn. Starting with....” Turning her attention to the crafting table, Jesse sets about separating the iron bars. “A sword, I think. Okay, so for one of these, you're gonna need to put an iron bar here...aaand...here....”

She continues to teach him the basics of weapon crafting while Romeo stands close to her side, nodding at appropriate intervals but paying absolutely no attention to the table whatsoever, too busy watching his new friend with a curl of warmth rolling around in his chest.

'Friend.' Romeo's lips stretch impossibly wide, wider than they have in years. 'My friend.'

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #minecraft #jesse #admin #romeo #jack #nurm #friends to lovers #??#slowburn #angst #female jesse #Romeo has trouble fitting in

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docholligay · 6 years ago

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Aino’s 8: Chapter 4--A Diamond Chip Charm

This was meant to be published yesterday, but I was feverish and so parts of it, um, didn’t make sense, so I fixed it this morning and here we are. If you would have told me Usagi was going to get her own section, I would have laughed openly. BUT HERE WE ARE. Sponsored by @yamadara87 PLEASE THANK HER IF YOU LIKE THIS (also, Rachelle, your beloved, “Michiru pampering Usagi” is here). All of Aino’s 8 is here.

“There is, I am afraid, another matter.” Michiru looked over at Rei as they sat, a small dessert between them that Rei knew Michiru had no intention of touching.

There was always another matter with Michiru.

Rei studied her face, trying to figure out what she could possibly mean. With Michiru, it could be anything from needing to borrow a pen to needing to blow up your apartment, and there seemed to be little difference to her, other than the paperwork involved.

It was difficult, dealing with an heiress.

“What?” Rei finally growled, going over in her mind what else there could be to bring up in a conversation that had covered the already-loaded topic of Minako Aino and what had transpired between her and Rei, all those years ago. She would have thought that was the whole of the “other matters.”

“I find myself rather in need of a lovely and....organic, shall we say, type of distraction. Someone with both innocence and charm--” Rei looked at her suspiciously, but she simply inclined her head to the side, as if it were the most obvious thing in all the world. “Well, Rei, I do regret to inform you that those attending are mostly familiar with my charms. Any attempt to distract might be met with an equal parry, but, someone with a bit of a different angle..”

Usagi. It came like bolt into Rei’s brain. But how did she know Usagi? Michiru never hung around here, it wasn’t her sort of place, and Usagi was certainly not her sort of people. There was a time Rei herself might have said that Usagi was not her sort of people, a chipper and emotional girl with a soft body and bright eyes who slung noodles at the shop around the corner from Rei’s apartment.

But time had softened Rei to certain things, and with the considerable disappointment of her own Robin Hood having been less virtuous than she had imagined nestled in her chest, Rei had opened up to the kind girl in the noodle shop, the one who always recognized her despite a hoodie pulled high over her head.

“No.”

It was as much impulse as anything else, and Michiru simply gave a small sigh of irritation, as if she simply could not find a parking spot.

“Let’s us--”

“How do you know who she is?” Rei was leaned over the table now, having quite remembered herself. “Have you been following me--”

“Oh, as if I have the time to gad about--”

Fresh off remembering herself, Rei managed to remember Michiru. “Have you been having me followed?”

“Now, there is a bit more specificity,” she took a sip of her wine, “what a charmless way to put it, but it does have a touch of brevity I appreciate.” She shook her head. “I was not, as you say, having you followed. I merely make it my business to know where my most valuable associates are and with whom they are associating. She does seem a particular sort of girl--”

Rei scowled. “She doesn’t want to be involved.”

“Doesn’t she?” Michiru leaned forward. “I do seem to recall that she had designs on attending some sort of photography school. Could that be the art school in which my family holds a board position? I simply can’t recall, you’ll forgive me my absent-mindedness.”

Rei looked at Michiru and saw her smiling. Michiru was teasing her, in the only way she knew how. And perhaps she was right. A night’s work for Usagi, getting a share of the take, and if Michiru was being truthful about her willingness to get Usagi a space in the school...This was something Rei had never been able to do for Usagi, not over the few years she’d known her. She lacked Michiru’s above-ground connections, and she couldn’t simply donate her way to admission without raising alarm.

Even if it wasn’t the school her family held, she could donate a building and slip Usagi into the school with little question.

Being friends with a billionaire heiress was aggravating and helpful, all at once.

But there was always the chance of going to prison, when running a job. It lurked in the darkness like a monster, and while the light of Michiru’s money and power had mostly kept them from being snatched, the idea of it happening to Usagi was enough to give her pause.

“Don’t let her go to prison.” She wagged her finger at Michiru, who smiled appreciatively.

“My dear, I have no intention of allowing any of us to go to prison.”

She crossed her arms . “You can let Mina go back to prison.”

___

Usagi was sweet, and eager to please, and, above all other things, she was an utterly distracting human being, which was precisely what Michiru needed. Someone without much grace or careful airs, someone who would manage to flummox them all by the very nature of her inability to blend.

“Now, Usagi,” Michiru walked next to her on the street, “there is a question of backstory. Why are you there? What possible reason might you have to be at such a gala?”

Usagi thought for a moment, which at least gave Michiru hope. She could not hope to be spoonfed the answers to these sort of things. Lying was merely about thinking on your feet. It was improvisational acting, in its most harrowing form.

“I’m there with someone!” She perked up, and then furrowed her brow again, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, and then her eyes grew wide again, “Like as a paid date!”

Michiru gave a laugh that half seemed like appreciation. “A call girl, a splendid idea, it will explain both your beauty and your lack of high manners,” She looked at Usagi, shaking her head, “This is not to say I have not know a great many women of various entertainments in possession of great learning and whom with I have had many spirited conversations, but, popular ideas endure.”

But Usagi’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were starred, hearing scarcely anything Michiru said after declaring Usagi a beauty.

Michiru was like nothing Usagi had ever seen before. She knew Rei worked with all kinds of people around the world, and that a lot of them were rich, or undercover, but most of the ones she had seen skulking about Rei’s apartment wore hoodies and ate burritos or were tall men in suits. But Michiru smelled of flowers even on the streets, her hair curled and dipped in elegant teal waves that were both perfect and effortless,her dress seemed to not be worn but instead flow around her as if the fabric had simply decided it wanted to be in her company, and she spoke like a governess from one of Usagi’s romance novels. When she had appeared in the alleyway behind the noodle shop, she had looked like a piece of classical art, leaned against the bricks of the dark byway, something that utterly didn’t belong, something that almost made you feel you were party to a crime to look at it.

And she thought Usagi was pretty.

“You will require a new sort of wardrobe, but that can be easily had,” She gestured to the designer stores surrounding them, “off the rack. At my expense, of course, and you certainly may keep it after, I have no need of it.”

Usagi thought for a moment. ‘I thought I wasn’t supposed to be classy. Did you say that?”

Michiru smiled at her in a knowing way, as elegant as if posing for a portrait,. “My darling, sophistication and money are in no way synonyms. There are quite a few things in the world which manage to be both indicative of wealth and terribly garish. We require you to appear a lapdog, not a show dog. The sort of girl a man might bring simply because he enjoyed your excitement at the idea.”

Usagi was not entirely certain that was meant to be a compliment, but it was hard to tell how anything was intended, the way Michiru said it. Everything she said was half puzzle and half poem, and Usagi was excited at the prospect of working with her, even unsure of what she had gotten herself into.

Maybe moreso because she wasn’t sure. She had always been Usagi Tsukino, a crybaby who was never good at school and loved food, nothing remarkable about her in the slightest. But this, when Michiru had offered her this, she had felt a strange sense of power, as if there had always been something inside her, waiting to be released, and only now could she feel it. Here, among these fine clothes and shoes and with the help of her strangely distant yet knowledgeable guide, she felt transformed into something else. Something wonderful.

Michiru took her into a small store with a name Usagi had never encountered, breezing into it as if it were a Daiso.

“I’m afraid we have no time for couture,” she gave a slight wave of her hand, “But I suppose we are molding you to be the kind of girl who might never wear couture anyhow, and these are perfectly accessible off the rack.”

Usagi looked around at the gowns, the most beautiful things she’d ever seen, covered in lace and flowers, sheer in spots and ruffled in others, and her mouth involuntarily swung open as she stared around the spare elegance of the showroom. Michiru looked less impressed as she eyed the gowns, but clicked delicately toward the center of the showroom as a woman approached her, head high and attentive.

“We will, of course,” She said, looking back at Usagi, “make arrangements for your casual wear, but the matter of the gown needs be settled quite immediately.”

Usagi nodded, still caught up in the rapture of pinks and blues and flowers and spangles.

Michiru turned back to the woman in front of her. “I am afraid we have a matter of some urgency, but I am certain you will be able to assist me. This young lady,” She inclined her head to Usagi, who had walked up next to her, “is in need of a formal gown, and right away. I assume you have some sort of tailor available to hem in the coming days.”

Usagi was not quite sure if the woman recognized Michiru as the heiress Rei had said she was, or if she simply exuded the sort of power that made people want to obey her, but in any case, the woman nodded quickly and smiled at Usagi in masked politeness, giving her Hello Kitty sweater the once and twice over.

“And what might you be looking for today?”

Usagi looked at the gowns again, uncertain of how to answer. They were all beautiful, all far beyond what she’d ever imagined herself in even in her wildest dreams. She walked slowly toward one of the dresses, blue with embroidered flowers down the whole of it, two lace puffs descending down the sides, floating like clouds down a mountain.

Usagi touched it reverently, quieter than even she believed she could be.

Michiru nodded, and the shop woman quickly took a measuring tape out of her pocket, measuring Usagi quickly.

“I was hopeful,” she said, looking at Michiru, “That you might be looking for a gown, as well.”

Michiru crossed her arms delicately. “I was rather hopeful that you would pay attention to the customer with which I’d provided you.”

Chastened, she turned back to Usagi and gave a closed-mouth smile. “I will see if we have your size in the back.”

Michiru stepped toward Usagi and touched her shoulder with genuine kindness. “You realize you are permitted to try as many as you like. I admit, I wish for you to wear something in this style of gaudiness,” the attendant wrinkled her nose, but Michiru paid her no mind, “But I should also hope you rather like it. It will be yours to keep for as long as you wish to own it.”

Usagi looked at her. “Can I try on all of them?”

“I would be delighted if you did,” she turned to the woman, “and I am certain she would love to assist us. I could use a chair and a glass of sparkling, if you’d be so kind.”

The woman hustled toward the back, and Michiru sat down in the plush velvet chair, looking at Usagi, who was already staring at herself in the mirror with a sense of beauty and wonder. She looked back to Michiru, puffing out her chest in a bit of bravado and trying to smile.

Michiru crossed her ankles, and set her hands delicately on her lap, looking at Usagi warmly.

“I should hope you will give me a proper fashion show. I’ve hardly seen this collection.”

Usagi beamed.

#Aino's 8

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omgericzimmermann · 7 years ago

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Queer Eye for the Recently Out NHL Player

hi, I’m back.

You can also read this on AO3

Jack regretted agreeing to this the moment his doorbell rang. He shoved Puck behind his knees and opened the door to a crowd of five men – four of whom would be good on defence – and a handful of cameras.

“Hi Jack!” the small, adorable blond said, grabbing his hand and forcing him to shake it. Jack shook it and tried to shoo Puck back into the apartment, since she was trying to get out into the hall to sniff all the guys and the camera men. “And who’s this?”

“Um, this is Puck,” Jack said, letting go of the unfairly cute one’s hand and stooping to wrap his arms around Puck’s legs. He hoisted her off the ground and stepped back to let them all into the apartment. Puck wagged her tail happily. “She’s a rescue.”

“She’s got just the prettiest eyes,” the cute one said, continuing to stroke Puck’s head and getting a tongue to the face for his efforts. To Jack’s relief, he laughed.

“This is – this is how you live?” the redhead asked, scanning the apartment. When Jack answered in the affirmative, he turned and immediately started petting Puck as well rather than look at Jack’s apartment. It wasn’t that he was a slob – Jack knew he wasn’t a slob – but…

Well, it had been five years and he hadn’t unpacked.

“Okay, Bitty, Dex, can I borrow Jack for a tour of his closet?”

Justin. His name was Justin. Jack had learned their names – had been conclusively lectured on their names and their personalities and their skillsets by Tater – but they’d vanished from his head the second the Fab Five walked in the door.

Bitty – who was, unfairly, cuter in person than on TV – stepped back from Puck and ducked into the kitchen with one of the cameras following him. Dex turned to look at the living room like it was causing him personal distress. Jack followed Justin down the hall.

“I don’t think we need Puck for this part of the tour,” Justin said, gently.

Jack looked down and realised he was still carrying his dog. Suddenly very aware there were cameras on him, he set her down and followed Justin into the bedroom. He heard the tell-tale tacking of Puck’s claws on the wood floor while she sought out her favourite toy to show to the new people in the house.

“Okay, so we know from all your interviews and post-game videos that you know how to dress yourself for formal events,” Justin said, gesturing at the suits that lined half of Jack’s closet. “So we know there’s the potential for greatness somewhere in there. What we’ve got to deal with is the every day.”

His eyes flicked over Jack’s outfit and Jack felt like shrinking.

“Is this what you wear when you’re going out?” Justin asked, gesturing at all of Jack.

He correctly interpreted Jack’s silence as confirmation.

“So, babe, you look like you’re dressed to rob a Burger King,” Justin told him gently, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “And now, I know it’s hard, I really do, my husband spent half his childhood in Iowa. It can be a hard habit to break, but if I can break him, you can believe I’m going to break you.”

Jack stared at him, and then nodded slowly.

“Tell us Jack, what do you do for fun?” Adam asked, flipping through the stack of coffee table books Dex had unearthed somewhere in one of Jack’s boxes. “Because we watched a lot of your interviews in preparation for this episode, and you don’t give the fans a lot to work with.”

“I keep pretty private,” Jack said.

“Sure,” Adam said. “But the thing is, according to your teammates who put you up for this, you keep pretty private from them too, and you’re supposed to be friends. How do you spend a Saturday night?”

“Usually at a game,” Jack said.

“If you don’t have a game,” Adam prompted. “Okay, maybe not at night. What do you do with a day off?”

“Go to the park with Puck,” Jack said. At her name, she came trotting up and leaned against his leg, presenting her head for scratches. Jack obliged.

“And you run, and throw the frisbee,” Adam supplied. “Anything else?”

“Look at birds,” Jack heard himself say. “I did some photography in college.”

Adam smiled and adjusted his glasses. “See? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

To Jack’s dismay, he walked into the kitchen in time to see Bitty open the pantry, stare at the mostly barren shelves in complete silence for the count of five, and then close the doors. He shook his head like a doctor declaring a patient dead, and then turned around. When he saw Jack standing there, he jumped and pressed a hand to his chest over his pineapple printed shirt.

“Lord, you gave me a fright there, Mr Zimmermann. I didn’t hear you come in,” Bitty said.

“Is my pantry that bad?” Jack asked.

“Honey, the only thing you’ve got in there is protein powder,” Bitty said, not unkindly, but like he was going to cry. Jack, stricken, tried to apologise. “No, sweet pea, you don’t need to apologise. It’s not your fault you’ve been an athlete all your life. We’re just gonna have to go grocery shopping. Get all the basics in place, and then I can teach you some nice, easy recipes to mix in with your chicken and broccoli. How’s that sound?”

Jack thought it sounded boring, but fine. He left out the boring comment.

“How do you spend your time at home?” Dex asked, although he wasn’t looking at Jack. He had a measuring tape out and was taking down the dimensions of the sunken living space. With his plain – although Jack felt sure they were designer – jeans, white t-shirt, and the pencil behind his ear, Dex seemed like he was the most straight-laced in every sense of the word. The only outward indication that he belonged in the crew of a show called Queer Eye was the fact that instead of a belt, his jeans were held up with rainbow suspenders, and he’d cuffed the sleeves of his shirt.

“Reading or watching Netflix,” Jack said, and wondered if that made him incredibly boring.

“Sounds like me,” Dex said. He stood and slid his tape measure into his pocket. “Quick question though. Did you buy all six pieces of furniture you own at Ikea?”

Jack was evicted from his apartment by Justin and Derek at the crack of dawn on day two.

“Tell me about the look, Jack,” Derek requested. “Because it almost looks like you just haven’t cut it from playoffs yet, but you’ve clearly shaved so…”

Jack awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. It was fluffy, and had always been fluffy. The only time it did anything useful was when it was wet.

“Oh, um,” Jack said. “I just never really know what to do with it.”

“Right,” Derek said. “And this week, we’ve all agreed, is about helping you feel comfortable enough and settled enough to make a connection with the place you live, and the people you spend time with. But you also need to work on making a connection with yourself, right? It’s okay to look in the mirror and think you look good.”

Jack squirmed. “Mostly I look in the mirror and think I look like my dad.”

“Nah, you’re way hotter than your dad ever was,” Justin said from the driver’s seat.

Jack snorted.

“Was that a laugh?” Justin asked, delighted.

“Bro, I think it totally was,” Derek said. “Okay. Let’s fix your hair, man.”

After he finished getting his haircut, and listening to Derek’s lectures on his personal grooming routines and the importance of moisturiser, and after he’d finished clothes shopping with Justin – which was a harrowing experience – he was passed off to Adam.

“So Jack,” Adam said, taking him on a walk through the park near his house. Adam had collected Puck - or the film crew had, Jack didn’t know and didn’t ask - and Jack’s camera and although Jack didn’t normally take pictures when other people were around, he experimented with the idea of feeling comfortable enough to loop Puck’s leash around his wrist and snap a few photos of the sunlight filtering through the leaves, and of a small child attempting to clean melted ice cream off her wrist.

“You’re not big on being in front of a camera,” Adam said.

“I’ve been in front of a camera my whole life,” Jack replied.

“Right,” Adam agreed. “I know. I’ve been a huge hockey fan since I was a kid. I even played in juniors, believe it or not.”

“Really?” Jack asked. “When and where?”

“I was in the USHL, Waterloo, Iowa. We would’ve never met,” Adam said. “But I knew who you were. Everyone did. Is that why you did it?”

Jack shrugged. He’d never answered directly the question of why.

“I guess,” Jack said. “It was...I guess I figured there was a chance it might carry more weight if it was me who went first.”

Adam nodded like this made sense and Jack raised his camera to take another picture. By the end of the trail, Bitty was lounging in the sun, letting the rays soak into his golden skin and his near glowing hair, his chin tipped back to get even more sun directly on his face, although his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses Jack felt sure were designer. Jack snapped the picture.

“And that’s why you decided to be on our show?” Adam asked.

“I figured as the first openly LGBTQ+ male hockey player, I owed it to my community to represent,” Jack said, deadpan. There was a beat, and then Adam burst out laughing. “Also because Tater and Thirdy more or less made me.”

Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “It seems to me - if I may - that you’ve been on a bit of a quest to be authentically yourself for a few years, probably since you started planning your coming out. And that’s what we want to do with you this week. We want to help you get to the point where you can really be yourself with your teammates. We’ve figured that maybe you could have some of them over for dinner on Saturday as your final event. Does that sound reasonable?”

Jack had been over to Tater’s apartment a lot, and to Thirdy and Marty’s houses, and most of them had been over to his apartment once or twice, but usually just to stop by and pick him up for something else. Having them in his apartment for a whole dinner seemed like a lot, and also like it was probably a good goal. To be himself, genuinely, with the teammates he was closest to, in a space that he intended to settle into.

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds good.”

Adam nodded and clapped him on the shoulder again, before depositing him in front of Bitty.

“So, mister, are you ready to go grocery shopping?” Bitty asked, springing to his feet with a sunny grin aimed in Jack’s direction.

to be continued

#the ghost ship scribbles #queer eye au #i'm back from the dead very briefly #zimbits #of course #it had to be done

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quicksilversquared · 7 years ago

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How to Fake a Marriage (chapter 1)

Adrien Agreste is excited to go to London to get a degree in Physics- but he's less excited about the ridiculous list of rules his father keeps giving him, especially since it's clear that his father doesn't trust his judgement at all.

So what better way to rebel than to fake a wedding with one of his friends as soon as he gets to London?

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

(AO3) (FF.net)

Gabriel Agreste was an overbearing parent, everyone who knew him and his son knew that. He micromanaged Adrien's life to the point that everyone wondered if he even trusted his son to make any good decisions on his own, even now that Adrien was very much an adult.

"He thinks I'm going to do something impulsive and ridiculous the second I'm out from under his thumb," Adrien complained to Alya and Nino during their weekly meet-up at a local cafe. He scowled down at the quiche on his plate and stabbed at it a bit irritably. "Like, what could I possibly do? Go out to a fast-food restaurant? Forget to exercise for a week?"

"Go to a rager, get drunk, and get tattooed all over?" Nino suggested.

Alya rolled her eyes and elbowed her boyfriend. "That is why Mr. Agreste thinks you're a bad influence on Adrien. You make the most ridiculous suggestions."

"I wasn't saying he should do it, I just was giving him better examples of impulsive and ridiculous things that his dad might think he would do." Nino rolled his eyes right back and slumped back in his chair. His head lolled to the side so he could look at Adrien. "Dude, it's gonna be weird with you and Marinette both gone. She's in London too, right?"

Adrien nodded eagerly. Marinette had headed to London several months earlier to do a year-long internship at a fashion house there. From what Adrien heard, she was enjoying herself but missed her family and friends. He had texted her a few times since she left, but hadn't really asked too many questions about her internship beyond a few basic inquiries about how it was going. She was probably pretty busy getting herself set up in another country by herself. "Yeah! Hopefully we'll be close enough together that we can hang out sometimes. I don't know how close my apartment building will be to hers." With a wince, he added, "Nathalie was in charge of finding a place for me to stay, so I don't actually know where, uh-"

"You don't know what part of London you're staying in," Nino said flatly, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Dude. Really? Your father wouldn't even let you do that by yourself?"

"He was worried that I might end up getting scammed," Adrien admitted. As much as he hated to admit it, he had been rather relieved to find that particular job taken out of his hands. He didn't have the faintest clue how to go about apartment-hunting when he wasn't even in the same country. Granted, he didn't know how to do it when he was in the same city either, but that wasn't particularly relevant at the moment. "And it wasn't as though Nathalie did that much work. One of Father's designer friends lives in an apartment in London near her business and it's a pretty nice place and doesn't cost a ridiculous amount, so Nathalie just found an empty apartment in that building and snagged it for me. It comes prefurnished, which is nice. Then I don't have to do a bunch of furniture shopping as soon as I get there to make the apartment livable."

Alya gave him a look. "And is it near where you're supposed to be for school?"

"It is," Adrien reassured her quickly. He had asked about that much, at least. "It's only a short bus ride away, really."

"Ooh, old man Agreste is letting his son ride on public transportation?" Nino said tauntingly. He smirked at Adrien. "I never thought I would see the day."

Adrien snorted. "He tried getting a chauffeur for me there, but the ones he found that met his criteria were way too expensive and all of them said that driving back and forth the short distance to school would be a waste of time and they had better offers. Besides, I'm technically an adult now. I can make decisions on my own."

He got a dual snort in response.

"I fail to see why you can't simply complete your schooling here in the city," Gabriel said as he entered the dining room yet again for the sole purpose of trying to dissuade Adrien from his trip. Again. "There are perfectly good schools here in Paris where you could do another degree if you really think that it's necessary, and you would not have to forego your driver and your home chief. You'll have to do your own cooking in London, you know."

Adrien only just refrained from rolling his eyes. His father made it sound like cooking would be some sort of huge inconvenience. "I am aware. I have been going over to Nino and Alya's apartment to get cooking lessons from them for several months now."

Gabriel looked cross. "And have any of your experiments been edible?"

"All of them, actually." Adrien was quite proud of that. He had a previously undiscovered talent in the kitchen and even Alya praised the meals he had made. All it had taken was a couple crash-course lessons in reading recipes

Gabriel looked even more sour at that, which made Adrien suspect that that had been his last big argument against Adrien leaving. He had been coming up with reasons (some more valid than others) why Adrien should drop his plans for studying abroad. As the day for Adrien to leave drew closer, Gabriel had only upped the frequency of the appeals.

It wasn't as though Adrien was leaving the continent. He was only going to London for a couple years, and he would be returning to Paris for visits during his vacations and maybe on a couple weekends. London was relatively safe- in fact, it looked like a paradise compared to Paris, which had suffered poor ratings for years after all of the akuma attacks. Tourism still was a little reluctant now, even with Hawkmoth long since defeated. Really, his overprotective father should have been glad that Adrien was moving to London.

"You will have rules to follow in London," Gabriel said after a moment, when it was clear Adrien wasn't planning on backing down. "You still will be representing the company, even if you insist on taking classes for physics instead." It was a long-standing disagreement between the two; Gabriel thought Adrien should stick with the business degree he had already earned at his father's insistence, while Adrien wanted to get his second degree in a field he was actually interested in. It was only because Gabriel refused to let Adrien go into debt that he was even paying for Adrien's apartment and tuition- well, that and the fact that Gabriel wasn't going to have his only son living in a pigsty while abroad just to save money. It wouldn't reflect well on the company. It also probably wasn't very safe to have Adrien living in a slightly dodgy neighborhood just because it would be cheaper.

Adrien inclined his head in response to his father's statement. "Of course." He was well aware of the rules, since he had been forced to follow them for years. Most of them were so obvious that he wouldn't have broken them anyway, even if he hadn't been made aware of their existence. Being reminded of the rules over and over just made Adrien want to break them in the most ridiculous fashion possible.

"No drinking at clubs," Gabriel started, apparently deciding to run through the rules again anyway, just in case Adrien had miraculously forgotten them. "No clubs, period. No pubs. No gluttonous consumption of alcohol in public; it's only acceptable to have a small glass of wine at a dinner function."

As if Adrien would ever dare to behave in such a manner in public.

"No smoking of any sort. No drugs at all, period. No prostitutes or strip clubs. No dating. You will focus on your studies and attend the industry functions that I request of you. I don't want to see you showing up in the tabloid headlines."

Adrien only just refrained from rolling his eyes at that last one. It wasn't as though he could actually control what the tabloids said about him. There seemed to be several particularly trashy ones in the UK that would probably report anything about him with little to no evidence to back it up if they found him interesting at all. Adrien could see the headlines already.

Agreste heir friendly with classmates: secretly starting a harem?

French model drinking wine at dinner: the start of his harrowing descent into alcoholism!

Son of Gabriel Agreste moves to London: Exclusive interviews on the family blow-out!

...yeah, dealing with that wasn't going to be fun. As long as he hadn't done anything ridiculous, though, Adrien was pretty certain Nathalie and the company lawyer would be all too eager to tear into the magazines for harassment and libel.

"Is that clear, Adrien?"

"Yes, father."

A week and a half later, Adrien finally left Paris to head to London. His father reviewed the list of things Adrien was Absolutely Not To Do twice more before he left and had Nathalie email him a list of reminders when Adrien was still on the train. When Adrien got to the station, he found his father's friend waiting for him there on the platform, holding up a sign with his name on it so he could find her as soon as he got off the train.

"Oh, you've grown so much!" Madam Rosalie said as soon as he drew close. She sounded absolutely delighted. "I've seen your photos, of course, but it's different in person!"

"Uh," was all Adrien could manage. Madam Rosalie was not what he expected. He had assumed that since she was a friend of his father's, she would probably dress similarly to Nathalie, with a no-nonsense suit or straightforward blouse and pencil skirt combo. Instead, she wore a playful polka-dot top with a navy crinkle skirt and her brown curls were barely held back by a bandana. He suspected that the clothes she designed were probably similar in their fun style, standing in sharp contrast to the more formal designs Gabriel tended to produce.

"Do you have all of your things?" Madam Rosalie pressed on, apparently not fazed by Adrien's lack of response. "Yes? Good, good- and did you have any other coats with you? Any other bags? No? Fantastic- it's always so difficult to track down loose things left on the Eurostar. Right, then, follow me this way, my car's parked right outside. You're going to be in the same building as a lot of my interns, did you know? I'm in the building right next door."

Adrien blinked. "I thought Nathalie said I was in the same building as you."

Madam Rosalie laughed, even as she grabbed one of his suitcases and herded him out of the station and towards the car. "Oh, no. My building is all long-term residents. Out flats are larger. The building you're in is just as nice, only a little smaller and the flats come pre-furnished. They had student housing in mind there, I think, or maybe temporary workers. It's owned by the same people that own my building, though, and I double-checked with my interns over there on the quality before recommending it to your dad's secretary."

Adrien nodded. That sounded just as good. As long as the place had good reviews from reputable people, then it was fine with Adrien.

Once they reached the car, it didn't take long for Madam Rosalie to shove all of Adrien's luggage into the back of her car, ignoring his attempts to help her. They were on the road not long after that, headed for the apartments.

"So how did you become friends with my father?" Adrien finally asked, breaking the silence. Madam Rosalie didn't seem the sort that his father would immediately click with. Maybe they had had class together at some point and had been forced to do some sort of group project-

-except no, that wouldn't make sense. She and Gabriel wouldn't have become friends from that, if his father's interactions with would-be collaborators was anything to go by. They would have come out of the project hating each other's guts. That was just the effect Gabriel tended to have on people.

Madam Rosalie laughed. "Oh, I was friends with your mother first," she said, flashing a grin at Adrien before returning her gaze to the road. "We were in a bunch of classes together. I met your father through her."

That made more sense. Adrien always remembered his mother as being more of a social butterfly than his father (not that it was hard to be more social than Gabriel Agreste; it was a very low bar to meet), so it made sense that she was the one making connections for Gabriel. She had also been the one to maintain connections until she vanished, at which point Nathalie took over. Despite her best efforts, Nathalie just wasn't as good at it. She was a little too stiff to make people flock to her.

Madam Rosalie was a talker, Adrien realized very quickly. As soon as Adrien's mother was mentioned, Madam Rosalie had two dozen stories to tell about the shenanigans the two had gotten into when they were younger. From that, Madam Rosalie dove straight into a few funny stories about Gabriel and by the time she was done, they were pulling up in front of the apartment buildings.

"You're on the second level," Madam Rosalie informed Adrien as she yanked his suitcases out of the trunk of her car. "It's a lovely view up there, I was just in there last week to vacuum and do a little cleaning. The room's been empty for maybe two and a half months now, so there was a bit of a build-up of dust in a few places but it's all gone now."

Adrien blinked, accepting his backpack automatically when she offered it to him. "Were they having trouble finding someone to fill it?" He had always been under the impression that apartments in the city, especially nice ones like these, were in high demand.

Madam Rosalie gave him a startled look. "Why, no! They had several people come and look, but your father's assistant snatched it up before they could sign anything. She's been paying rent to keep it open for you."

Oh. Adrien hadn't known that.

Really, Nino and Alya could tease him all they wanted for not being involved in the search for the apartment himself, Adrien mused as Madam Rosalie led the way up to the front door, but Adrien couldn't deny that the assistance was appreciated. Renting an empty apartment to keep it until he got there was yet another thing that Adrien wouldn't have thought of by himself.

"One of my interns is in the apartment right across the hall from yours," Madam Rosalie called over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs, pulling one of Adrien's suitcases behind her. "So if you have any questions, she's right there. She's from France, just like you, and she's been here a few months. Lovely girl, and so talented! She's very kind, too, so don't worry about talking to her."

Adrien perked up. "Really?" He couldn't deny that knowing there was another native French-speaker nearby eased his nerves just a bit. He was fairly strong at English- he wouldn't be going to a university in London otherwise- but it would be a relief to be able to chat to someone in French at the end of a long day. Of course, if they were in the fashion industry, it wasn't a stretch to think that they might know who he was- and who his father was. Adrien might have to deal with an overenthusiastic fan next door, for all he knew. That would be the opposite of relaxing.

"She's out and about right now, but I'm sure you'll run into her later," Madam Rosalie said as they exited the stairwell. She stopped in front of the door closest to the stairs and pulled out a set of keys. "You're in this flat. It's got a nice view and you only have the one next-door neighbor since you're on the end, so you should be set."

Adrien nodded. Of course, he knew he would still have to deal with upstairs neighbors and he wouldn't be able to jump around like he sometimes did at home since he had downstairs neighbors, but it was nice to hear that his closest neighbor wouldn't be a problem.

The door swung open, and Madam Rosalie ushered Adrien inside. Pulling his suitcases along behind him, Adrien stepped into the living room area. It was small compared to what he was used to, but then again everything was small compared to what he was used to. Still, it wasn't as though he actually needed all that much space. Nino, Alya, and Marinette all lived in apartments, and their living rooms were about this size. It would be more than enough for him, especially since he was living by himself.

"Since this is a furnished flat, you have a lot of stuff already here," Madam Rosalie said as she closed the door behind them. "Couch, of course, chairs, table, bed, desk in your bedroom, some pots and pans and a casserole dish, knives- you might want to get them sharpened, by the way, I have no idea what condition they might be in- and silverware, plates, cups, bowls- really basic stuff and not a lot of it, but at least you don't need to buy everything. You might want to buy a few more things in you do any fancier cooking, but the basics are covered."

Adrien hadn't even considered that. He had thought about groceries, of course, but not the cooking things. For whatever reason, he had just sort of assumed that it wasn't something he would need to get. That would have been a nasty shock if he had arrived to find that he had no food and nothing to eat with.

"Your father ordered towels, pillows, and bedsheets for you. The boxes are waiting in your bedroom," Madam Rosalie said while Adrien was still taking in the living room. He winced- another thing he hadn't even considered, he was off to a great start with being independent- and set his suitcases down to follow the designer down the narrow hallway to the bedroom and bathroom.

He was going to be stuck here all afternoon unpacking, Adrien could tell already. He would be lucky if he could get out to find a grocery store before the sun set. He might have to order out- or maybe he should just not unpack everything and deal with it tomorrow so that he would actually be able to eat tonight.

The bedroom itself was a decent enough size, though he wouldn't be able to leave much on the floor without it becoming a real obstacle. The closet was smaller than he was used to, for sure, but he had hardly brought along the entirety of his wardrobe either. That would just be excessive, especially considering that he didn't even wear most of it on a regular basis.

"Do you want any help unpacking?" Madam Rosalie asked as Adrien maneuvered around the boxes on the floor. "If not, I need to stop by the office and check on a couple designs. You have my number, right?"

"I can manage the unpacking," Adrien assured her. "And yes, I have your number. I'll be fine. Do you know where there are any grocery stores nearby?"

"There's one a few blocks over," Madam Rosalie said, stepping back around the boxes towards the door. "But it's more a high-end store, good for picking up a couple things in a rush but I wouldn't recommend doing a large shopping trip there. There's a larger store a little further out that's a little more affordable, but you can ask your neighbor for directions. Knowing her, she would probably come with you and help you carry stuff back."

"She won't mind me bothering her?"

"Oh, not at all," Madam Rosalie assured him. "As long as she's not in a huge rush for a deadline or anything I'm sure she would be happy to help. Like I said, she's very friendly. Oh, and here are your keys- catch!" She unhooked Adrien's set of apartment keys from her own keychain and tossed them across the room. Adrien caught them easily. "Have a good rest of the day! Ta-ta!"

With that, Madam Rosalie gave a cheery wave and vanished around the corner. Within moments, there was the sound of a door opening and closing. The second he was sure they were alone, Plagg zipped out from Adrien's pocket and surveyed the bedroom.

"It's small," Plagg commented, spinning around to look at the whole room. "And cramped, and I don't see any cheese."

"You are about as subtle as a speeding truck," Adrien sighed, kicking a box to the side to head back out to the main room. "I have some cubes of cheese that I packed. It's not Camembert, but it'll have to do until I can go shopping."

Plagg grumbled.

"And you'll have to ration your Camembert a bit," Adrien cautioned. "No more eating two wheels a day. Half a wheel at most plus some other cheeses will have to do."

Plagg let out an immediate loud whine at that.

"Don't even start," Adrien said warningly as he entered the living room and bent down to sort through his bags. "It'll look weird if I'm buying seven wheels of Camembert a week or going grocery shopping every other day. It's not back home, where we had Camembert stocked in the kitchen."

"I'll starve. You don't skimp on food for yourself ever."

"I'll buy other cheeses. You said you like Gouda, right? Brie? And I know you'll eat Swiss and cheddar in a pinch." Adrien dug in his backpack and tossed a large cube of cheddar to Plagg before taking the rest of the cheese and putting it in the refrigerator.

"But it's not the same."

"Think of it this way: for you, Camembert is like dessert. It's tasty. You eat less of it than other cheeses, and then it's more of a treat when you do have it." Adrien grabbed his suitcase and headed back to the bedroom. He might as well get started with unpacking so he could start getting rid of the boxes. "And I don't eat dessert day in and day out."

Plagg let out an angry mutter, but didn't argue further.

Back in the bedroom, Adrien attacked the boxes first. Once all of the pillows, sheets, and blankets were on the bed (it didn't look pretty, but Adrien wasn't actually sure how to make the bed properly and at least it worked), Adrien delivered the towels to the bathroom and tossed all of the boxes and packaging into the kitchen, where they would be out of the way for the time being. He unpacked his suitcases next, shoving shirts, socks, underwear and pants into the dresser and hanging a few things up in his closet. Much to his surprise, it really wasn't taking all that long to get things stashed away. Of course, part of that was because Adrien couldn't bring a ton of stuff with him on the train, but he had still thought that setting up would take longer. Granted, he still had grocery shopping to do. He would have to shop enough to set up his entire pantry- that meant all the spices and sugar and salt and flour and eggs and everything. That would probably take the longest out of everything.

Sighing, Adrien pulled out the list Alya had prepared for him of everything Adrien needed to start a pantry. He had made his own additions to the list, of course, since he had picked out what things he wanted to cook during his first week and obviously Alya hadn't included Camembert on the list at all. He would have to buy some containers for leftovers and some reusable bags as well...

Ugh. Grocery shopping would probably be the hardest part of the moving to a new country. At least he didn't have to deal with shopping for furniture or most kitchen tools. That really would have been a nightmare. This was already bad enough.

Adrien let out a long sigh as he gathered up his wallet, his keys, the one bag he had brought along, and the completed list. Putting off the trip wouldn't do him any good; after all, he did need to eat. Maybe he wouldn't take care of everything on his list until he found out where the budget store was, but he had to pick up a couple things, at the very least. Hopefully he would run into his neighbor soon.

Adrien was lost in his racing thoughts of what he had to get done first as he neared his flat's door. There were so many things to do that needed his attention so he could actually function, and all in a foreign country. Now that he thought about it, Madam Rosalie hadn't actually said where the closest grocery store actually was, so he would have to ask someone- and who knew if Londoners were friendly or not? He hated asking random people for help, especially when he was abroad. People tended to ask about his accent and then practically asked for his whole life story when they learned he was from France. It wasn't fun at all-

He was so distracted that he didn't even notice that there was someone passing his door until he ran straight into them.

Both Adrien and the other person yelped as they stumbled, and Adrien's hands flew out to steady the other person before they could fall or drop any of the bags they were carrying.

"Sorry, sorry- I mean! Sorry about running into you," Adrien corrected himself, switching from French to English. "I should have looked where I was going-"

"No, no! I should not have been walking so close to the door, I just am not used to anyone living there," the girl in his arms said quickly in accented English, finally steadying herself on Adrien's arm and readjusting her grip on her bags. "It's not your fault at all- Adrien?!"

Blinking in surprise, Adrien finally looked down at the girl properly, taking in her wide blue eyes and oh-so-familiar face. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Marinette?!"

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #How to Fake a Marriage

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thestoryweneededtowrite · 7 years ago

Text

Ghost Hunter AU fic that I have not named...

Part of this AU!

When Spot suggested they do something to celebrate the anniversary of their YouTube channel, Race knew what he really meant. They didn’t do date night often and when they did it meant take out and a box set of whatever show they were marathoning and making out on the sofa, so caught up in each other that they’d have to rewatch all the episodes they’d had on in the background because neither of them had taken in a word of it. Formal date nights that involved leaving the house didn’t really happen.

Part of the reason was that they were both pretty private people. Spot wasn’t often keen to hold Race’s hand outside of the comfort of their home, let alone kiss him and say I love you and do all the other things people were supposed to do on dates. He didn’t like admitting to it though, so often he relied on the other reason date nights usually happened on their sofa.

Having a public platform meant people recognised them from time to time when they were out and, in their experience, it was always at the most inopportune of moments. Race had started ordering condoms and lube online after one particularly harrowing incident in Boots at the self-service checkout where one of their subscribers had decided that was the perfect moment to come over and say hi. Attempting to hide ribbed condoms and cherry flavoured lube that he’d bought (mostly) as a joke under one single tube of toothpaste had not been the highlight of his life. Their subscribers may have easily been able to extrapolate from the fact they were dating and living together that they were indeed having sex, but they didn’t need the exact brand of condoms they used being anywhere on the internet.

Public dates had been off the table from the very beginning, but Spot maintained that this wasn’t a date. This was a celebratory outing that he refused to disclose anything about to Race. And if it happened to fall on what Race knew was the second anniversary of when they’d first kissed, that was just coincidence of course. Spot wasn’t that sentimental…

Spot was lucky Race trusted him with his life. He got dressed in ‘fancier clothes than normal but we’re not going to a wedding’ and was waiting for Spot by the door at the exact moment he’d said they needed to leave. Not that he was going to admit it, but he was excited. He loved nights in on the sofa eating Chinese food and watching Stranger Things until Spot kissed him back against the cushions and he couldn’t think about anything but that, but sometimes it was nice to imagine that they were a more normal couple. In Race’s imagination they did the dinner and a show thing often, or the moonlit walk along the river thing. But he never really mentioned it out loud. Spot was never going to say yes to an evening that could result in a subscriber finding them kissing under the stars. He had a reputation.

“Okay, I probably did this the wrong way round so you’re going to have to bear with me,” Spot explained, seeming strangely nervous.

Had they been together longer then Race would think he was going to propose, but this was Spot and that was probably never going to happen. One date was for Spot what a proposal was for most guys – he seemed to be vaguely terrified.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Race asked, pulling on his jacket. “No,” Spot grinned. He might be nervous but that didn’t make him any less cocky.

Pulling Race in for a rough kiss, he made the most of the last couple of moments of privacy they had before they had to go out the door.

“Okay, we really do have to go,” Spot smirked, pushing Race away so he could grab his keys.

“We’re returning to this when we get back, right?” Race checked, starting to think that staying in and making out was going to be far greater than whatever Spot could have planned.

Spot just winked and headed out the door, leaving Race to follow him. There was always going to be a later time for them to make out.

***

When Race found himself looking up at the theatre façade advertising the play of The Exorcist he was monumentally confused.

“We’re seeing this?” he asked, a little stunned.

Spot flinched, worried he’d made the wrong decision.

“You don’t want to…?”

“No, I do!” Race promised, not wanting to make Spot think he didn’t appreciate the surprise. “I just…” It was so traditional. He would never have thought that Spot would be the kind to want to go on a night out to the theatre for date night, even if they weren’t calling it that, but he really didn’t hate it.

“We can just go home if you want,” Spot mumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

“No! I want to stay. It’s not like we’re strangers to ghosts,” Race pointed out with a smile. “This isn’t ghosts,” Spot laughed, relieved things were turning out okay. “This is demons.”

When he’d considered taking Race out on a proper date, even if he was still pretending it was only a channel celebration, he’d spent a while trying to find something interesting they could do. Dinner out seemed like a waste of money when Race preferred to cook anyway and most of the shows he found weren’t anything he was keen on. But then he found The Exorcist and it seemed perfect. It helped him keep up the façade that this was to do with the channel as opposed to their relationship and, besides, Race grabbed him when he was scared and he wasn’t exactly opposed to an evening of his boyfriend pressed against his side. And in the middle of a dark theatre where no one could see them and everyone else was just as afraid, no one was going to give them a second look. It had seemed like a great idea.

That great idea lasted as long as walking into the theatre. The girl tearing their tickets started to give them what was clearly a rehearsed spiel about the length of the show and not to film anything but after a moment or two she did a double take.

“Oh my god,” she shrieked, and Spot’s heart sank. So much for spending the night unnoticed. “You’re…?! Oh my god!” “Hi,” Race smiled, forcing himself not to groan.

“This is a perfect show for you, you’re going to love it,” she gushed, grinning.

“Thank you,” Spot said through gritted teeth.

It wasn’t her fault, he knew that. She was perfectly lovely and trying to be friendly but he didn’t want to have to make conversation about their channel. He didn’t want to have to know that there was at least one person in the theatre who might be watching them and potentially relaying their movements to an internet worth of people.

“Oh,” the girl frowned, picking up on the less-than-ecstatic vibes. “You’re here to enjoy the show, I completely get it. I promise I won’t bother you.” “Thank you,” Race sighed, genuinely appreciative.

“Date night?” she asked, attempting to hide a smile. It was the normal kind of rapport she set up with patrons and she was hoping that they’d catch on to the fact she wasn’t trying to be invasive, just friendly.

“Depends who you ask,” Race smirked, poking Spot in the ribs.

Spot just pulled a face. He knew his plan was somewhat transparent but had been banking on Race going along with it.

“You really will enjoy the show,” she promised and waved them through.

Wishing her a good evening, they trekked through into the bar. Race reached down and took Spot’s hand, unsure how long he would be allowed to maintain the contact.

“Race,” Spot warned, but he didn’t let go himself.

“Come on,” Race pleaded. “It’s a date. We both know it’s a date.”

Spot considered it. After the photo of them holding hands had circulated twitter he’d pretty much put a ban on ever taking Race’s hand in public again. It seemed like inviting people to be invasive by not being careful enough, not that they should have to be careful but they’d made a channel and put part of their lives online and their audience struggled to find the line that they weren’t allowed past. They didn’t get to see the sleepy smile Race would give him when he rolled over to wish him a good morning. They didn’t get to see the way they’d choreographed an intricate dance around each other to get ready in the morning or the kisses or the nights cuddled around each other on the sofa or how Spot liked to go to sleep with his head on Race’s chest so he could listen to his heartbeat. It was all off-limits and it was easy to control because it happened exclusively in their own home, but holding hands was different. It was still off limits to their audience – it was a level of intimacy that Spot shared with no one but Race - but it happened out in the open and that meant anyone with a phone could get a picture of it and it would be doing the round on the internet in seconds. He hated it.

But then again those who had been involved in taking and sharing that photo had all been kids. They were 12, 14 at most, and they didn’t yet understand why it wasn’t okay. Spot had specifically picked a production with an 18 age restriction, so the majority of their more zealous fans weren’t even allowed in the building. It wasn’t a guarantee of anything, but it was enough of a buffer that Spot was going to take the risk. Race was looking at him with sad eyes that were usually reserved for when he wanted to be kissed and Spot was prioritising admin work for their channel, and Spot was extremely bad at not giving in to them. So he squeezed Race’s hand, a silent promise to not let go, and raised it to his lips, kissing Race’s knuckles quickly before dropping their hands back down. It was as far as he was willing to go but it was enough to make Race smile, a tinge of pink on his cheeks from the rare sweet affection.

“Sap,” Race mumbled.

“Shut up,” Spot replied, but he was smiling too.

An announcement rang out that the auditorium was open for people to take their seats and Race let Spot tug him in the right direction, caught up in the fact that he was holding hands with his boyfriend whilst on a date and wishing he could go back and tell the scared boy alone in his bedroom that this was how it was going to turn out. For the entire date, all throughout grabbing Spot’s arm at every jump scare in the play and afterwards when they bought burgers and watched late night revellers stroll home through Leicester Square, Race wondered how he’d gotten so lucky.

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #spot/race #ghost hunter au

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the-fiction-witch · 7 years ago

Text

Birthday

REAL LIFE: 1800′S COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SMUTTY

THOMAS’ POV:

When I woke I was surprised to see Y/N still laid blissfully asleep beside me I grabbed my pocket watch and it’s almost ten so put it down and turn wrapping my arms around her tightly giving her neck and shoulder tiny kisses making her groan and shift in the bed “Y/N it’s time you were up darling” I whisper in her ear

“no” she groans

“Y/N, come on…you should know what today is” I smirk giving her tones of kisses

“I don’t wanna get up, Today is cancelled” she sighed

“Darling, come on its time you were up” I Laugh at her giving her more kisses “It’s a very special day” I tell her

“No I’ve aged” she sighs “I’m old” she complains

“your still un measurably beautiful to me Y/N” I tell her turning her around to face me and giving her a tighter cuddle “happy Birthday Darling” I smile giving her head a kiss

“Thank you” she smiles “Do I get my present?” she giggled

“Later” I smirk pulling her even closer letting her foot stoke up my leg as she smirked back and I moved one hand to stoke back her hair and tap her little nose

“Why can’t I have my present now?” she smirked so I sighed glancing at the door open a crack the outside dark lightened only slightly by the light coming through our window in here the hallway as quiet as a ghost

“Well, I suppose.” I smirk “But…you have to be very quiet Y/N so you don’t wake Millie” I smirk moving to kiss her neck rather passionately sucking on her collar bone leaving a little hickey there that little palace I know she loves moving my hand down between her

“MUMMY!” Millie screamed making us stop

“Later” I tell her quickly giving her a kiss before Millie jumped on our bed

“Happy Birthday Mummy!” she yells excitedly giving Y/N a little bouquet of flowers

“Aww Millie there lovely” Y/N smiles taking them and smelling them “Thank you very much” she smiles

“Daddy didn’t help me at all” she giggled

“Hey! You little liar” I laugh and Millie happily ran off downstairs

“How much later?” she giggles

“We will see, depends on how good you are” I smirk getting up out of bed expecting her to do the same but she lays back in bed smirking at me as I grab my underwear from the floor and slipping them on “What?” I ask

“It’s my birthday, I’m enjoying the show” she giggles

“You are a very dirty girl” I laugh putting my pants on intentionally choosing the tight pair she loves me in “Just because it’s your birthday little lady does not mean you can get away with whatever you like” I laugh getting my shirt and about to slip it on

“Not that one” she giggles

“Oh? Why not?” I ask

“I don’t like that one” she giggles

“This is what I mean” I laugh putting that one back and getting the one I know she likes “Why do you like this one so much?” I ask her

“I don’t know, you look pretty in it” she giggles so I laugh finishing doing it up leaving the few buttons at the top undone and pulling my suspenders up before going and sorting my hair

“Are you going to get dressed today?” I ask her

“Yes, I just wanted to wait for you” she laughs getting up out of bed slipping her underwear on and looking around for more of her clothes where they just got thrown around the room last night where we were late to bed knowing we had to be up early today, as we are throwing a party for Y/N’s birthday not to big just a few friends coming over but there would be cake, Oh Her cake

“I’ve got stuff to do okay Honey, I will see you in a bit” I tell her giving her a little kiss which she quickly returns before I rushed off downstairs Millie dressed as well now just needing me to do the back of her dress up for her as she ran off to the garden to work on the little tables and such for the party I went to the living room book case to find Y/N’s little cook book but I couldn’t find it on any of the shelf so I went into the office and it was in there oh yes I brought it in there with me one day I had little to do and taking it back to the kitchen with me turning though the little hand bound pages with little drawings of the little things Y/N’s comes up with flicking though the pages till I found the cake she makes the most often, she made this on our little honeymoon and when Millie turned two she even made this one so long ago now when we first met she cake she brought to dinner but I was going to jazz it up a little bit adding lots of chocolate and strawberries after a very long time so long in fact the cake was cooling getting ready to decorate with me and Millie working on sorting all the stuff out even if she’s eating half of it, I admit I ate a few bits of chocolate till at last Y/N arrived hopping down the stairs in her cute little purple dress she came in and tried to see what we were up to

“Tell me now” she sighs

“No Mummy you’re not allowed to know” Millie giggled

“Go on go for a walk or something, go on shoo” I tell her pushing her towards the door

“Okay, Okay, I’m going” she says getting her coat and going off into the Village

“Right we need to get on” I tell Millie “Right once we finish this, you need to run off and get jack and kim okay” I tell her and she nods happily stealing another bit of chocolate so I took it off her and put her on strawberry duty cause she’s not to fond of strawberries, go figure both me and Y/N love them but Millie hates them she says they taste like worms, how she knows what worms taste like worries me deeply but anyhow I filled the insides of the cake with cream and jam and stuck the two together like the book says then putting the book away as we melted the chocolate and covered the cake all over in the sweet melted milk chocolate then putting loads of sweet strawberries all over the sides and the top Millie looked a bit board so I gave he the spoon for the chocolate and she ran off happily letting me finish my work getting the last few strawberries and pushing them up with some cream and some icing sugar and putting it into a piping bag and writing in a very cursive lettering on the top ‘Happy Birthday Y/N’ I thought about putting her age on there but… she would be mad if I did, letting all our friends know how old she is once I put the cake away in the pantry I heard the door and I was Jack and Kim, Kim holding hands with Millie Jack rushed in and hugged me “Hey Thomas” he smirked

“Hey jack” I laugh

“How does it feel being married to an old lady” he laughed

“Lovely actually, she gives me sweet’s after sex and she instantly forgets all the bad stuff I do” I laugh “Don’t talk like that around her she’ll kill you” I laugh as many others arrived including Harry, Jacob, Olivia and Kentia Martin, Even Bailey from the Store and Edward Harrow from the notaries it really was like half the Village turned up for Y/N’s birthday which was so nice, only a few years ago they hardly noticed she excited even treating her like a stain on their jacket that wouldn’t wash out but now they treat her like a normal person in the village even a friend to some, I think a lot of it was back when the Illness came she saved so many people’s lives they couldn’t really hate her so bad after all that without her magic many people here would be dead. After cracking a nice bottle of wine as people mingled around the dining room and garden chatting and debating amongst them self’s for a while “Where is the lady then?” jack asked

“I don’t know didn’t you see her on the way here I only set her out for a while, she’ll be back soon don’t worry” I explain and Just as I finished that sentence I heard a familiar song and soon enough Y/N stepped through the door and looked around very surprised at all the people here she saw me and looked rather jokingly un happy with me rushing and hugging me “WOAH Hi honey” I laugh

“Why did you do this?” she asks

“Because My beautiful wife deserves to have a nice birthday for once in her life” I laugh

“But I hardly know any of these people” she says

“You know jack and kim, and uhhh the notary he married us, and uhhhh okay good point, but you’re my wife that’s enough” I shrug

“Great so half the people know me as the doctor’s wife” she laughed

“That’s not a bad thing” I shrug

“Give me wine” she sighs so I laugh giving her a glass the party went on pretty well her chatting to lots of people and such like until it got a little later and Kim came over to us without Millie for once

“Hello kim” Y/N smiled

“Hello Mrs Weller, Happy birthday” he smiled

“Thank you kim” she laughed giving him a little kiss on the head

“Your welcome mrs, But Could I have a word with Dr Weller?” he asked sweetly

“Uh sure” I shrug

“I wanted to ask if maybe you could have a chat with my daddy” he giggled

“what about?” I ask

“About maybe arranging something for me and Millie” he smiled widely

“What like a play date or something?” I ask rather unsure why he’s being so formal about all this

“No I wanted to marry her” he smiled

“You what?” I ask in shock

“I would very much like to marry Millie some day when we are older I thought it best to ask her daddy first” he explained

“You want to marry Millie… Your five” I say in shock

“I know But one day I will be big and I love her very much I want to marry her so, so badly, I promise I will take care of her”

“Oh goodess” Y/N said in shock before her hand left mine I glanced to her and OH MY GOD! She fainted.

“Whoa! Y/N are you alright?” I ask her rushing to her side

“That’s normal for a women like her, slightest shock knocks them out” A man laughed

“I will take her to the office, Uh Millie you are in charge till mummy wakes up” I tell her

“Okay Daddy” she smiled back

“I suggest you run that idea by your father before asking again Kim and perhaps ask my daughter her opinion on that” I tell him before carefully taking Y/N off to the office and shutting the door “Okay Y/N your away from the party you can stop now” I laugh but nothing “Come on Y/N I know you, you don’t faint like some classical royal lady” I laugh but still nothing “Honey you’re really starting to worry me now” I tell her “Y/N you haven’t really fainted have you? It wasn’t that shocking” I laugh but still nothing so I grab some smelling salts and put them by her nose but nothing “Y/N I know your faking it I know you” I laugh but still no movement at all not even a flicker under her eye lids I check her over and she is breathing normally and her heart is beating fine “Y/N I’m leaving now” I tell her but still nothing “Okay I’m going, I’m leaving…never coming back…abandoning you with your soon to be married daughter” I say getting quieter as if walking away still nothing not even a flinch “Y/N I don’t love you anymore” I say and nothing “Whoa! You really are knocked out” I sigh “Y/N I’m taking a cookie that was meant for dinner” I tell her preparing to die but… nothing “Right so you’re not faking it you did actually faint…right…what do I do” I sigh going to the book case looking for answers uhhh….hummm….. Ah basic duties that might have it Ah yes chapter 23 fainting…men… men… poisoning…are here women fainting… A woman fainting is normally caused by shock and surprise of something being seen or said often blood or such like that fragile women can’t handle, wouldn’t call her fragile, not after almost seven years of being married to her, this can be liked to female hysteria this can be helped with Vigour’s Pelvic massage to relive her…

“So that’s why you fainted…you’re not actually shocked you just want me to do that to you” I laugh but still nothing “Alright, But if you wake up giggling I’m gonna know you faked it” I laugh sitting her differently and lifting her dress before going and locking the door so no one was going to barge in on us moving to the bottom of the table stroking her thighs leaving a few little hickey’s there before moving my hand to her little nerve centre pressing hard and circling my finger around her clit but still no movement so I switched to my thumb working on her harder and faster using my other fingers to play around with her even over her underwear I admit this is a little fun so I slipped off her underwear and worked on her directly onto her clit her legs moving around a little as I did adding my other hand into the mix using one to play around with her clit and finger fucking her and not even a few seconds later I knew she had cum but still nothing as I stopped everything “Really? Still ? okay… Y/N you are getting old” I say and she hit me in the nuts “FUCK!” I yell “Sorry darling” I groan

“It’s fine I know you don’t mean it” she giggled holding her tummy

“Ha I knew it” I laugh

“Knew what?” she asked sweetly

“I said if you woke up giggling then you where faking it” I laugh

“Thomas I have no clue what you’re talking about” she complains

“It’s fine, It was a shock I suppose” I sigh putting my book back on the shelf

“It was, not as bad as you leaving or taking cookies” she giggled

“YOU!” I laugh

“Okay I was” she giggled

“You dirty girl” I laugh

“That’s why you love me” she laughed hugging me tightly

“Well it’s not the only reason but… it keeps us both young I suppose” I laugh giving her a kiss “So you where awake, how long for?” I ask her

“I did faint but the salts woke me up” she giggled

“So you stayed pretending you had fainted for that long just so I would do that to you?” I ask

“Yes” she giggled

“You are a very naughty girl” I laugh

“So” she giggled

“Just cause it’s your birthday does not mean you can get away with whatever you like darling” I laugh

“But are you going to stop me?” she giggled

“No” I smirk

“good” she giggled “Could maybe as we have some time alone…could I have my present now?” she giggled

“well…alright, but be quiet” I smirk…

I took Y/N’s hand taking her back out to the party but the house was empty apart from Millie sat eating some chocolate “What happened?” I ask her

“I couldn’t reach wine” she explains

“Okay, off to bed little miss” I tell her undoing the back of her dress for her and she happily ran upstairs to bed so I packed away the garden and stood doing some washing up in the kitchen “Oh Y/N” I call

“yes Thomas?” she asks wrapping her arms around me

“Go sit on the table You need your other present’s” I tell her and she giggles rushing off to the table “and shut your eyes” I tell her and I could hear her giggle as I went to the pantry and got her cake sitting it on the table and sitting with her “You can look” I laugh and she opened her eyes and looked very happy

“Thank you Thomas” she giggles hugging me tightly

“Your welcome” I smiled giving her a nice slice and having some myself “I didn’t do too bad” I shrug

“Well it looks better then it tastes” she giggled “But you’re getting better” she smiled giving my cheek a kiss

“Thanks, You don’t have to be so nice to me darling, if the cake tastes like shit you can tell me” I laugh

“Yeah it is” she giggled

“Well at least you’re honest” I laugh

“But thank you for all my surprises” she giggled

“That’s not all of them darling” I tell her

“Oh?” she smiled

“Wait here” I tell her before going to the office and behind the bookshelf where I have been hiding it putting the little box n her hand as I sat back with her as she opened the little box

“awww Thomas, It’s beautiful” she smiled excitedly so I took it from her hands and put the necklace on for her it really was beautiful lines of silver and Pearls and a beautiful blue stone at the bottom sitting just above her cleavage in her dress “Thank you so much” she smiled cuddling me closely

“Your welcome Darling” I tell her giving her a sweet kiss “Y/N?” I ask her

“Yes Thomas?” she asks

“Do you after all these years…still love me as much as you did” I ask her

“Of course I do, whatever could make you think I didn’t” she smiled kissing me

“I don’t know, I mean we’ve been together almost seven years, time just flies I suppose” I smile

“It does, but I’m still happy with you as happy I was when we were newlyweds” she giggles resting her head on my shoulder

“Good, so am I” I tell her giving her a kiss

“”Thank you for all my lovely surprises” she giggled

“Your welcome darling” I tell her “come on time for bed” I smile so we shut up the house together as normal checking on Millie and she was fast asleep with her teddy bear and heading to bed ourselves I laid in bed as she got changed watching her every step as she snuggled not bed with me her head on my chest as we both relaxed I shut my eyes trying to fall asleep very tried after such a day “Thomas?” she asks sweetly

“Ummm” I groan In response

“Thank you for such a nice birthday” She smiled

“your welcome Y/N, maybe again next year hey? Did you like all your surprises?” I ask her

“Very much Thomas” she giggled

“good” I smile kissing her head getting ready to sleep

“I have a surprise for you though” she giggled

“Oh?” I smirk expecting her to do something as I’ve been so handsy with her today

“I’m pregnant again” she giggled and I shot my eyes open in shock replaying it in my mind making sure I heard her correctly

“You’re what?” I ask a bit unsure

“I’m pregnant again” she repeated “Two months” she giggled

“Oh Y/N, that’s amazing” I smile hugging her tightly sitting us both us kissing her millions and billions of times “I’m gonna be a daddy again” I smile almost crying I was so happy

#tbs #tbs smut #TBS Imagine #tbs imagines #tbs spy #thomas sangster #sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster imagine #tommy sangster #thomas sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster smut #sangster smut #thomaa sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas broide sangster imagine #sangster imagine #sangster imagines

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