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jimlingss · 5 years ago

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Sugar and Coffee [16]

Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17

➜ Words: 3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

On Wednesday, you begin to bake, cut, and fill. The ingredients are pulled from the borrowed kitchen — eggs, butter, buttermilk, vegetable oil, sugar, flour, baking powder, unsweetened cocoa powder, and vanilla. The oven is preheated to three hundred degrees fahrenheit and the round pans are greased. The four of you measure and mix together the dry ingredients, and then the wet ingredients. Once it’s all ready, it’s baked while the ganache filling is worked on. Heavy cream, butter, chocolate, and a pinch of kosher salt are melted together with two tablespoons of brewed coffee to deepen the flavour. It cools and thickens, a fluffy texture that melts against your palate. And when the moist cake is out of the oven, it cools too before being cut and filled. “Alright, folks.” Namjoon dusts his hands off, shutting the fridge door. “Now on Friday, we just cover, dowel, and stack. Since the wedding is on Saturday, we want it to sleep overnight.” “We’re going to have to prepare decorations tomorrow,” Sejeong says. If there was anyone’s cake that she wanted to perfect, it was her own sister’s. “Crumb coat the cakes and smooth the frosting, colour the fondants, make the flowers. Just so we can get it prepared in time and not be rushing on the last day.” “Okay.” You offer a smile. “Are we still going with lavender?” “That’s the plan. But we can worry about that tomorrow. How have you two been? Any problems?” You glance at Jungkook, meeting his eye, but you divert hastily. “N-No, we’re fine. We’ve been enjoying ourselves. Thank you for bringing us along.” “That’s not a problem.” Namjoon laughs heartily, practically glowing with a healthy tan. “We’re happy to have two more sets of hands. God knows the wedding is hectic and stressful enough, right, honey?” “Chungha is having it tougher.” His wife sighs. “We’re just glad to get this done and over with.” In between family feuds and relatives duking it out, you don’t need to tell them that you and Jungkook are incidentally sharing the same room over a mistake in booking. They have enough on their plates as it is. But just because you don’t talk about your issues doesn’t mean that they’ve magically vanished. Even if you wish that were the case. “Morni—” The moment you open your sleepy eyes, Jeon Jungkook has manifested in the mirror. You choke on your toothpaste, toothbrush sucked into your throat like a vacuum, lodged in. You choke it out and sputter. Jungkook’s shocked awake, eyes widened as he pats your back. You cough and rinse your mouth. “Oh my god. You scared me to death!” “All I said was good morning!” He shoots you a look, leaning in too close with his still sleepy demeanour, fluffed hair and swollen face. “Are you alright?” “Obviously not! I almost died!” You’re not okay. Very far from any semblance of ‘okay’. For one, you can’t look the bastard in the eye. You can’t stop yourself from perspiring. It’s as if your best friend is someone worthy to be fearful of… No. It’s not that you’ve become afraid of Jungkook. You’re nervous. “I’m going to shower.” “Sounds good.” It shouldn’t be surprising. He even warned you. But the moment Jungkook starts to strip off his shirt, you’re caught off guard at how he didn’t wait for you to leave ⁠— how comfortable he is with you. You have half a mind left to sprint out of the bathroom. Nearly falling over. Barely catching your stumble. Jungkook watches with his brows raised incredulously. The bathroom door eventually shuts and you change as quick as you can, and run out of the room without a word. Like you’re being chased by loan sharks. “Hey, Y/N.” After ten minutes, Jungkook comes out topless, having forgotten to grab a shirt. But he pays no mind, toweling off his head. “We should get room servi—…...Y/N?” The doe-eyed boy looks around, realizing that you’re gone. You’ve headed across the resort to the restaurant for breakfast. Finally, you’re able to have a meal in peace without having to lift your head to see a big nose and brown, doe eyes. You grab a healthy serving of eggs, toast and cereal. And you pick a good table to look out and enjoy the view. But fifteen minutes into your meal, someone suddenly plops down across from you. You’re startled to death again. “I can’t believe you ditched me.” “S-Sorry…” You look away. “I was too hungry to wait.” “Could’ve told me at least. I would’ve hurried up.” He spreads cream cheese on his bagel, ruffled mop of hair flopping as he moves. He’s dressed like a true tourist again, this time with a hawaiian shirt that’s bright orange with blue florals all over it. Jungkook’s eyes are round and buggy as he bites down and he hums in satisfaction at the taste. “So what are our plans for today? It’s the only full day we have left before we have to work on the cake.” “I don’t know.” You stand up. “I finished. Should go back to the room. I have a stomach ache.” “Really?” His left cheek is puffed out with food stored inside. “But I just got here.” “Nature calls.” You run off, leaving your best friend in the dust. It’s horrible being stuck on an island with Jeon Jungkook. No matter where you run or how you hide, he’s always there. “How was the—” You scream. “—bathroom trip.” Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed deep. “You scared me!” You put your hand over your heart where it’s pounding hard, threatening to jump out of your chest. “But I didn’t do anything,” he defends, mouth drawing open as he gestures around, perplexed at how you could be frightened in broad daylight, in the middle of the day, with this many people around. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “I’m fine. H-how’d you even find me?!” “I don’t know, I was just heading back to the room. The resort isn’t that big.” He shrugs and finally is able to get a good look at you. Jungkook slowly smiles at your one-piece swimsuit. “Are you going in for a dip? I can join.” The thought of Jungkook ripping off his shirt, jumping into the pool and getting all wet with you has your knees weak. It’s not a healthy idea. “No. Changed my mind. It’s kind of….cold out for a swim. I’m probably going to go back inside to change.” “Y/N. It’s hot. It’s like a hundred degrees out here.” You muster stiff laughter. “Well I’m feeling a bit chilly. Gonna go back and change. See ya!” You sprint off again, in a completely disoriented manner. Jungkook shouts your name when you nearly slip on a puddle of water by the poolside and almost crack your head open. But luckily, you catch yourself and throw him a half-hearted smile and an exaggerated wave goodbye. Part of you wishes you would’ve just fallen into the pool or hit your head. Maybe it would finally knock some sense into your brain. There’s no reason for you to be so nervous around him. This is Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about — IU fanboy, the biggest nerd of the universe, officially the worst flirt on this planet. There’s absolutely no reason for your stomach to flip. For you to be unable to retain eye contact with your friend. For you to suddenly be so self-aware and conscious of him that you feel nervous when he’s around and nervous when he’s not. There’s no reason whatsoever… “You need to get your head straight.” You’re muttering to yourself as you walk. You probably look crazy, but need to hear it out loud. If no one’s going to help you by saying it, then you’ll say it yourself. “Focus, Y/N. Focus—” A blood-curdling shriek tears from your stomach when there’s suddenly knocking. You turn to see Jeon Jungkook beside you, separated by a window, but laughing hysterically at your reaction. His nose is scrunched, mouth drawn up into that boyish smile of his. He’s inside the fitness center in a white tank top, sweating enough to make his hair damp, and the dark stands are pushed back against his head. That little shit is scaring you on purpose now. “Are you shitting me, Jeon Jungkook?!” Your fist pounds against the glass and you fail to notice how everyone else in the gym is whirling their heads around at the noise. The resort attendant runs up on you. “Ma’am, please don’t bang on the glass.” “S-sorry.” Jungkook is in bigger hysterics now, bent over and grabbing his stomach, laughing loud enough for you to hear through the window. His smile is excited, eyes lit up. Everywhere. Every corner you turn to. Every path you take. Some way or another — whether you’re talking to Namjoon or Chungha, hanging at the bar, around the pool, on the beach to watch the waves — no matter how hard you try to evade him, Jungkook is always there. You didn’t know it would be so hard to avoid him. He’s truly like the plague. Or maybe a curse. Better yet, it would be more fitting to call Jeon Jungkook the year-round Christmas grinch. He’s here to ruin your life, ruin your holiday, and make your head filled with him and only him. “You’re not avoiding me, are you?” He finally asks after crawling into bed beside you that night. His hands are folded on top of his midsection and he’s staring up at the ceiling even if he can’t see when the entire room is drowned in a comfortable darkness. You muster some laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous.” The sheets shift and from the little light coming through the terrace glass doors, you can see him looking at you. And you can feel his body warmth with the small distance. “I would hate it if you were a hypocrite since you don’t like when others ghost you.” “I said I’m not,” you whine. The lie gives a tickle of guilt in your gut. “You shouldn’t accuse people after they’ve already defended themselves.” “Okay.” The corners of his lips quirk. “Just making sure. I don’t want to scare you off.” You scoff, eyes adjusting enough to be able to look at him. It’s quiet, with him beside you underneath the covers, too close but too far. Yet somehow, in spite of the silence of your room, it’s still very noisy inside your head. “You really think you’re going to get rid of me that easily?” “No. And I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t want to lose you.” Jungkook grins and he teases, “You’re not a coward, Y/N. Right?” “Psh. Go to bed, Jeon.” “Hmm, I’m not tired, but I do know an activity we can do together that’ll tire me right out.” “Yeah, my fist meeting your face.” He laughs and you roll over, tugging the covers up to your chin. You don’t say out loud, don’t admit it, but you are a coward. One big coward who pretends to face the truth with courage, but actually learnt to run and hide in the face of trouble. A coward who can’t face the music, who’s actually wide awake like he is, but won’t say it. Whose heart is stuttering too loud to try to slip underneath the seduction of slumber. You won’t admit the funny feeling you get when your gaze sets upon Jungkook. You won’t acknowledge it even when it’s screaming into your ear drums and drumming against your rib cage. You won’t confess that the nervousness you feel is far from platonic. It’s hard not to feel stuck on Jungkook. These days, the last person you see before you sleep is him and he’s the first person you see when you wake up. He’s both the beginning and the end. “Hey, Y/N.” You’re stirred away by a soft voice calling to you. “Wake up.” When your lids peel back, you see him. The strands of his black hair nearly tickle the skin of your cheeks and he smiles tenderly at you. “We have a long day. Come on.” You’re a coward and you have been for some time now. // Friday is the busiest day of the week. It’s the eve of the wedding and where you’re in the kitchen for hours on end. Between the four of you, the lilac-coloured fondant is rolled out to cover the chocolate cake and ganache frosting. The dowel rods are inserted and the cake is stacked. Once it’s to Sejeong’s satisfaction, the decorating process begins. The sugar lavender that you made yesterday is used, placed delicately in the correct positions and you work on tracing a lace pattern on the bottom most layer. Hours later, with muscles sore and eyes stinging, she’s finally satisfied. It ends up looking magnificent. All the effort is presented in front of you — the cake is a soft purple colour, lavender flowers made from gum paste and real lilacs edible. “It’s too pretty to eat.” “It always is.” Sejeong smiles. “But when we do, it’ll be delicious.” Namjoon stretches his arms over his head, making noises as his bones crack. “I’m starving. What time is it?” He checks his watch. “I think the snack bar is still open. We should go eat now since we have to wake up bright and early tomorrow.” “I forgot how much work it was to be a bridesmaid.” Sejeong sighs lightly. “Let’s just get the cake in the fridge for now.” Jungkook and Namjoon carefully move the cake into the refrigerator area, a whole cold storage, and you take your aprons off, washing your hands. Sejeong turns to you and Jungkook. “Are you guys hungry too? You probably are since we’ve been working so late.” You exchange a look with him. “N-No. We’re fine.” “Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, brows raised. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m more tired than hungry. I’ll probably call it a night.” “Same here.” Jungkook offers a smile, following your lead. “Well alright, I’ll see you both bright and early then! Good job, you two.” Namjoon smiles and both he and his wife leave the kitchen, talking to one another until their voices fade away. Jungkook then turns to you with his brow raised. “Are you really not hungry?” You look down at your stomach and it rumbles. You wonder if he can hear it too. “I thought I’d give them alone time since we’ve been busy all day….” An extended sigh pulls from the man’s lungs. Jungkook smiles and as he passes by you, he ruffles your hair. “You’re so unnecessarily thoughtful sometimes….” You turn around, trailing after him. Jungkook opens the fridge and hums, eyes searching. “What are you doing?” you ask curiously. “Looking for ingredients since a little someone said they weren’t hungry and now we can’t go to the only place still open.” He grins easily. “So unless you want to go back to the hotel room and wait half an hour for room service, I’ll cook.” Jungkook sounds so self-assured that you comply, finding your place on a stool as he begins to pull out mushrooms, shallots, parmesan cheese, butter, and starts digging around the cupboards. “You can cook?” “’Course I can. I’m a master of the kitchen.” His eyes flicker up and the little shit mocks you. “Why? Can’t you?” “The pan always burns,” you mutter. “Is that why you can’t melt chocolate over the stove?” he questions with a glint of mischief. “For the record, I’m getting better. It’s not like I do it intentionally anyway. But are we even allowed to use these ingredients, Jungkook? Won’t we get into trouble?” It’s not your kitchen after all — just a small space the resort was willing to let you use. He merely shrugs. “We have to live a little.” You sit on the other side of the island, watching him closely. Jungkook finds a can of chicken stock and heats it over the stove in a small saucepan. Then he moves to chop shallots and mushrooms, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, forearms revealed as he works the knife in a constant motion that’s therapeutic to listen to. Jungkook fries the shallots and mushrooms over the hot oil and butter in a skillet, tossing and flipping them as they sizzle. He works fluidly, in a rhythm without needing to stop and think twice. It’s fun to watch. “What are you making?” “Mushroom risotto.” “Sounds fancy.” “It is,” he lies. In your ignorance, you’re unaware that it’s actually an easy recipe. You’re also oblivious to the fact that Jungkook is secretly beaming with gratitude that his dad taught him this recipe years ago. His dad was right that he needed to learn how to cook basic dishes to one day impress. Jungkook adds the rice, coating it in the butter before adding a cup of white wine he found in the cupboards. Once it’s fully absorbed, he puts in the chicken stock and adds salt to taste. All the while, he’s watching you from the corner of his eye. He can read you like a book and your amazed expression feeds directly into his ego. When Jungkook turns around to throw something in the sink, he lets his enormous smile slip. “If we ever have the time, I’ll make you shrimp or chicken risotto.” “You can make that?” “Of course, cooking isn’t hard.” “Pft. You really know how to do everything, don’t you, Jeon?” “You said it, not me.” He serves it on a big plate, even taking the extra step to clean the edges up with a napkin. You’re amazed and when he arrogantly urges you to take a bite, you can’t even tell him off. It’s delicious. And once you say so, he can't deny how happy he is. Jungkook is over the fucking moon. He would cook for you for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook reader insert #jungkook baking AU #jungkook baking!AU #sugar and coffee jungkook #JUNGKOOK AS BAE what's new #also looks like a little someone special is catching something #and it ain't corona

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mild-manneredapricot · 5 years ago

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Okay I did the thing

Here is my self-insert Beetlejuice fanfic because I have no self-control

Emotional Support Stinky Rat Bastard Man: the fanfiction

Just to be clear, this is not slash. Reader is not being shipped with Beej. They're just friends having a good time. source: I am lonely and want friend

Reader is feeling lonely after everyone leaves for winter break and they are stuck in the dorms, until they summon Beetlejuice accidentally. Shenanigans ensue.

Chapter 1: It Begins

You’re invisible when you’re sad

The dorm was almost abandoned, it felt like. You walk the halls in your pajamas, wondering at the sudden silence. The lack of people was a bit unnerving, having been used to the noisy rowdy mess that was the freshman college dorm at all hours of the day and night. But now it was the end of December, time for winter break.

You were sure most of the other freshmen had families that they went home to over the break, while you and only a few others wouldn’t be heading home this holiday. It’s not that you didn’t have a family, or that they didn’t love you, they were just… away, taking your younger brother with them. You weren’t sure what your sister was up to, only that she wasn’t coming home either. Honestly you were rarely sure what she was up to. She was the most social creature you had ever seen. Nevertheless, the family house stood empty, an hour away by car, leaving you to spend a winter alone in the middle of the city. Surrounded by millions of people at all times and yet lonely. What a life you lead.

Let’s focus back on walking the abandoned halls. Although, not so abandoned, as you notice a person sitting at the table as you pass by the common area. You make awkward eye contact before moving on, descending the stairs to the lower level of the dorm, where you checked your mailbox (empty as always) and stepped outside of the building in order to walk a couple yards down to the cafeteria entrance in the same building. It was endlessly annoying how they closed off the indoors cafeteria entrance, forcing everyone to walk outside in order to obtain food. It was both parts blessing and curse, especially when it rained. Eating alone in the semi-empty cafeteria was certainly an experience, especially since the machine that made hot chocolate was still broken. Just in case, you try it as you pass by. Nothing but weird-smelling hot water.

It was the same routine three times a day. Go downstairs in your pajamas to eat a meal, go back upstairs to your room and wallow until your body alerts you that it’s time to eat again. Doing the bare minimum to keep your flesh machine functioning.

It had only been three days since your roommates had left. Three days since finals had ended. And you were already spiraling. It couldn’t be helped, you supposed. Depression is funny like that.

You barely remember trodding through the steps to make it back up to your room, but you do. You make it in, slowly shedding your outer layers until it’s just you in your pajamas, and then you climb into the beanbag under your bed and just curl up and cry. This had been going on for a while now. You were just, so depressed. You didn’t want to do anything and you didn’t have the energy to do anything and technically you could no nothing because there was no school but everyone had left and you were so lonely. For a moment, you pondered on what it would be like to have a friend, a single friend to spend the winter holiday with, but the thought just made you cry harder.

After a couple hours, you manage to drag yourself out of the beanbag to go to the bathroom, and as you look at yourself in the mirror while washing your hands, you realize how shitty you looked. “I need some serotonin.” you said out loud. One of the benefits of having the dorm to yourself was that you could just say whatever you wanted… and there was no one there to hear you. That sometimes made the depression worse.

Shaking away the thoughts, you went back into your room and wrestled your computer onto your bed and hit play on the Beetlejuice soundtrack, which is your new hyperfixation of the month. Anything comforting that you could get your grubby, lonely hands on in this time of depression you took.

You stand in the middle of the room as Lydia sang her ballad, just feeling the music. For a moment you feel like crying again, only to be hit by emotional whiplash when The Whole Being Dead Thing starts up. You recover, shaking your head and starting to awkwardly dance along, mouthing the words and doing dramatic motions to accompany them.

By the time the soundtrack had reached the halfway point, you were full out singing every song. There was no one in the room anyway and if any of the people living near you heard, they couldn’t say anything, or at least you didn’t care. You needed that serotonin, dammit.

You pause as Say My Name ends, out of breath from dancing and singing. You stand, heaving, as the dialogue at the beginning of Day-O starts playing. You grin, mouthing along to Delia’s lines and breaking out in song when the first “dayyyyyy-o” sounded.

Daylight come and we want go home

You sing along at the top of your lungs, trying to imitate the jerky movements you had seen accompany this song in the Beetlejuice bootleg you found on tumblr. You absent-mindedly dance through all the dialogue, until-

“Beetlejuice!” you shout along with Lydia, climbing on top of your chair as the Beetlejuice in the recording went on.

“Beetlejuice!” you scream to the empty dorm, fueled by days of depression and sadness and the desperate need to have someone there, anyone at all so long as you weren’t lonely anymore.

“give me just one more.” from your computer. You gathered up all the air in your lungs and squeezed your eyes tight for one last, “BEETLEJUICE!”

A swoosh and then the next line, “It’s showtime!” sounded like an echo.

You open your eyes as the soundtrack goes crazy and there, right in front of you, was Beetlejuice himself, in all his terrible striped suit and green haired glory. The only logical thing that occurred to your mind to do was scream and fall off the chair. Without taking your eyes off of him, you pause the music.

He grins at you. “Hey.”

“What the fuck.” you mutter. “Did…”

“Yeah, you summoned me here-”

“Can- How? I’m so confused. You’re real?”

“You know it babey.”

“Like…”

“Okay, let's not get into the specifics, I'm here and you summoned me, so what do you want me to do? Scare some people? Kill some people?”

“No!” you reach out for a second as if to physically stop him from just running outside and starting a killing spree. “Um… I need a second to process...” you wave a hand in his direction, “this.”

“No, yeah, sure I’ll just stand here and watch you. Cool space by the way.”

Does he ever slow down? You look around at the tiny dorm you called home. Half of it was your roommate’s so it was mostly empty of stuff except for the bed, and your side was decidedly messy. “Oh, yeah. I guess I have some cool posters of something.”

“Okay, so you good now? Can we get around to the reason you summoned me, cause I gotta tell you I got some other shit I gotta get to, so we gotta make this snappy.”

“Oh.” You wilt a bit, not wanting to let go of the only person you’d talked to in days. “Well I didn’t really mean to summon you-”

“Bullshit.” he scoffs. “Everyone means to do it, whether they know why or not.”

You squint, his comment already making you so much more tired then you already were. “Okay well to be fucking honest, I’m lonely as fuck because all my roommates left and so now I’m going to be spending the winter break in my dorm by myself and I’ve already started spiraling, so I was just trying to give my brain some seretonin when I accidentally summoned a fucking demon and honestly you’re the only human interaction I’ve had in days.” you finish, looking him dead in the eyes. He looked a bit surprised and you notice his hair had darkened a bit. “So there you go. Now you have full permission to just fuck off to wherever you want and leave me alone here to cry.”

You push past him and crawl back into the space under your bed, curling up in the beanbag with a blanket.

A moment’s pause and then, “Hey.”

You groan inwardly. Why hadn’t he left yet? Didn’t he have someplace better to be? He had already said as much. You glance up over your blanket and see the stinky rat man crouched down in front of your under-bed cave. “What?” It comes out a bit more bitter than you meant it to.

“You okay babes?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the tears that immediately started threatening to overflow at the question. “Obviously not.”

Another pause and then, “What's wrong?”

“Did you not hear any of what I just said?” you sit up, finally meeting his eyes, and you notice his hair had become streaked with blue. “Mood ring hair.” you mutter.

“What?”

“Nothing. So why haven’t you left yet? Don’t you have some other, better, place to be?” you cross your arms.

“Well…” he stops crouching and sits down in front of you. “I was actually lying about all that.”

“...okay?”

“Actually since you summoned me I can’t go away until you un-summon me.”

“Un-summon?”

“It’s this whole complicated process, involving-”

You cut him off. “I just have to say your time three times again, right?”

He froze and you knew you had gotten it correct. “No…”

“Your hair changes when you lie.” you nod to it.

He looks up and started messing with it, frantically trying to hide the streaks of yellow that had suddenly appeared. He looked so serious that you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. He stops messing with his hair and looks at you and you immediately look away.

“So you know how to get me to leave, you can just-” he flails a bit, “and I'll be gone.”

You pull the blanket back over yourself and curl back up into a ball, letting out a muffled, “Okay.”

You could feel Beej’s eyes on you as the silence stretched longer.

“So… you gonna let me go or what?”

“I don’t know.” came the muffled reply. You pull the blanket down a bit so your mouth is free and continue. “On one hand, I'm incredibly lonely and depressed and I’m going to be basically alone for the entirety of the winter break, but on the other hand you’re weird and liable to kill someone at any given moment.”

He chuckles darkly. “You got that right, babes.”

You roll your eyes again and pull the blanket back up over your face. “I’m too depressed to make that decision. Or any decision for that matter.”

“Fine, I’ll make it for you.” he stands up, making a big fuss out of brushing his suit off. “I’m sticking around baby, and there’s nothing you can do about it!” and with that, he vanished with a pop.

You uncover your face and look around, but he was gone. “...what.”

#fanfiction #beetlejuice #my writing #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice/reader

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verbaciouspunster · 5 years ago

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This sweet boi is a baby blue bitty named Cosmo, who joined my crew midway through my first semester of college!

Cosmo:

Personality: sweet, bubbly— the typical baby blue tbh

Height: 4 inches. He’s babey

Likes: cartoons, video games, cuddles, ice cream, blueberries (gasp, a cannibal), fluffy stuff, sweet/spicy food, tacos(duh), sour candy

Dislikes: nightmares, swimming, confinement, mean people, bridges, mud, super salty stuff, white chocolate

During my first year of college I lived in a dry(“alcohol free”) freshman dorm a little ways off from the main campus. To get there, you had to pass by the security office, cross a bridge over a creek, and trek up a big ol hill. The bridge has a street with two lanes going across it, with sidewalks on either side, so it’s fairly wide.

This gives you all some context for what happened the night we got Cosmo.

It was about halfway through my first semester of college, around mid-october or so. The weather was just starting to get chillier, and it had been raining quite a bit as of late, so the creek beneath the bridge was swollen, and Minty had stayed back in the dorm room due to the rain, leaving Swiss and I to attend my classes.

We were on our way back to the dorm to grab Minty to head to dinner, and the sun had just set. As we neared the bridge, we noticed a group of drunken frat boys huddled together on one side of the bridge, laughing and hooting while they poked at a drawstring bag they had dangling over one side of the bridge.

Normally I would have just crossed the street and continued on my way, content to steer clear of drunken shenanigans, but then I noticed that the bag was wiggling. Shit.

Swiss had noticed too, and was bristling, with this horrible look on his face; I held him back, and took out my phone, taking a picture of the culprits before bringing up campus security’s number, just in case my plan went south.

Approaching the bridge, I yelled out, “HEY! (Frat name)s!!! I JUST WALKED PAST CAMPUS SECURITY AND THEY WERE PREPPING TO DO A BOOZE BUST IN (freshman dorms)!!! YOU SHOULD GET OUT OF HERE WHILE YOU CAN!!!”

Luckily drunk college kids are not smart, so admist a chorus of “oh shits” and “shit man they could take our letters” they beat a swift and clumsy retreat, one of them THROWING THE BAG INTO THE CREEK OH SH—

I quickly shucked off my backpack, coat, and bitty before plunging into the muddy water for the little bundle.

Luckily for both me and the squirmy soggy bundle, the current hadn’t taken it far, and the water was only waist-deep, so I reached it pretty quickly.

Thinking that it was a squirrel or a kitten or a puppy or something— you know, stereotypical innocent creatures that assholes try to drown— I opened up the bag to be greeted by two bright blue, tearful eye lights— the fuckers had been torturing a bitty, a baby blue. Little guy was sobbing— they had scared the living daylights out of the poor thing.

I clutched him to my chest and waded back to shore, where Swiss was anxiously pacing back and forth waiting. We bundled the bitty up in my coat, and booked it back to the dorm to get dry. Minty was of course surprised, but quickly grabbed some clothes that could be appropriated for the little fella.

(Note: large brass berry sweater+ hot glue+ yarn belt = decent makeshift jumper. )

After that, and after we had calmed him down, we took the baby blue to campus security to report what had happened. Swiss had taken the liberty of video taping what had happened after I had ditched my coat and backpack with him, and that, combined with the picture and the traumatized bitty, was enough to get the university to punish the guilty parties

In the aftermath, we went to the dining hall to grab some food for our bedraggled group, and after getting some warm grub into him, our newest family member was introduced (for the first time ever) to his new favorite food.

I mean he had been through a lot, so I figured he deserved a treat or something to sorta numb the trauma, so I snagged a bowl of ice cream to share with him— a little thing like that couldn’t possibly eat a bowl of ice cream that was almost bigger than him, right? I got a little bit of each flavor available since I wasn’t sure what he would like: mint chocolate chip, cheesecake, blue cosmo, strawberry, chocolate, cookies n cream.

I got back to the table, set it in front of him, and his eyes got HUMONGOUS. He made for the bowl as quick as he could, and in his haste to try the frozen treat, he face planted into the bowl.

— not that he minded, of course. He devoured that ice cream with such single-minded determination (heh) and ferocity that people from other tables came over to watch this tiny thing pack away a whole ass bowl of ice cream by himself. In the end, all that was left in the bowl was a satisfied looking bitty coated in melted ice cream and sprinkles.

Someone said he looked more ice cream than bitty, and Swiss started snickering. I looked in askance and he responded “he’s blue cosmo, get it???”

Luckily Cosmo liked the name, so it stuck. Apparently he had been bought at a nearby store to act as some sort of mascot pet for the frat in question, forced apart from his brother, a lil bro bitty, who had tried to fight to go with him, but failed. When the frat realized that he wasn’t as “hardcore” as they had wanted, they drunkenly decided to “get rid” of him by “sending him for a swim” because “skeletons can’t drown anyways, so what’s the big deal?”

Bastards got their letters and recruitment privledges taken away, were suspended from their sports teams, and honestly should have gotten worse, but their mommies and daddies paid off the school.

Hear more of the story under the next bio!

#bittybones #undertale

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turnupswritessometimes · 6 years ago

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Birdflash - Hypothetically (Pt2)

Title: ‘Hypothetically’

Part: 2/2

Description: Usually, Dick Grayson dreaded the Wayne Charity Balls. Usually, it meant that he was skipping a mission. Swapping leaping across buildings and kicking criminals in the spleen for prosecco and small talk. It meant avoiding the dance floor and the gaggle of girls swooning over him as opposed to avoiding bullets and lasers. But this night was different. This night there had been a threat from The Light, which meant the whole team had been added to the guest list, in civilian disguise of course. And there's someone that Dick's just dying to flirt with.

Word Count: 4,551

PUBLISHED ON A03 UNDER THE SAME NAME BUT TAGS MAKE POSTS NOT APPEAR IN TAGS SO..

Dick’s head was pounding. It felt like there was a spaceship in his head, humming and buzzing away against his skull.

He cracked open his eyes and groaned at the bright light in the room.

Then froze when he heard an answering groan.

Last night hit him like a brick to the back of his head. His eyes snapped open, protesting against the daylight, but he had to check –

Wally’s arm was draped across him. Wally’s head was on his chest. His bare chest.

A naked Wally West was sleeping, basically on top of him, on the leather sofa. Someone had tossed a blanket over them to cover their modesty. That wasn’t good. That meant that someone knew.

Dick pressed the palm of his hand into his eyes, closing them and taking a deep breath. Shit. He hadn’t meant any of this to go this far.

There was a knock at the door. Sharp and precise. He knew that knock and he knew that whatever he said, they would come in anyway.

Double shit. Double shit with chocolate sprinkles on top. Chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream and a cherry.

He pushed his hair from his forehead and wiggled out from under Wally. Just enough so that he could rest on his elbows and see over the top of the sofa. Wally’s arm still hung across him like he was a teddy bear. He still felt dizzy – unbelievably dizzy and clumsy. It was like his head was separated from the rest of his body, floating away on a string.

Bruce Wayne sat at the bar, fully dressed in a suit, his stool spun around so that he met Dick’s eyes with an impassive stare. He had thought he was getting better at reading his facial expressions. Now he realised Bruce was had just been going easy on him. He couldn’t begin to guess what was going through his head.

It was too bright. His head was pounding like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer.

But Bruce Wayne was sat right there. He swallowed, but his mouth remained dry.

“Bruce,” he said.

“Alfred found a broken glass this morning,” Bruce said. He had a glass set out next to him, and poured gin into it, his dark eyes not moving from Dick’s.

“Sorry. Drunk.”

“He said you had company. I thought I’d check in on you.”

Dick groaned, pushing his hand back against his face.

“Did you have to?” he sounded awful.

“I think we need to talk, Dick.”

“He’s still asleep,” Dick mumbled.

“I can be quiet if you don’t want to leave him,” the pronoun fell from Bruce’s tongue as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

“I made a mistake.”

Bruce paused then, just enough for Dick to try to swallow and fail. “You don’t think you’re-“

No – he wasn’t listening to Bruce Wayne say that word.

“That wasn’t the mistake part,” Dick said quickly. Maybe a little loudly. Wally stirred and mumbled something. “It wasn’t – it’s Wally, Bruce. Wally West.”

“Oh.”

He peered through his fingers just in time to see Bruce’s mouth quirked upwards slightly. He covered his face again and frowned against his fingertips.

“Hair of the dog?” Bruce said.

Just the smell of the gin in the air made Dick’s stomach turn.

“I’ll pass,” he groaned.

“So what happened, Dick?” Bruce asked. Dick shook his head vigorously and groaned at the effort. “Talk to me, Richard.”

He only called Dick ‘Richard’ when he meant it. It usually scared him, or guilted him into talking. Now he was concentrating on not being sick too much to be intimidated.

“Not now.”

“Yes, now. Whilst you’re not going anywhere.”

Dick sighed. He felt Wally sigh against him in his sleep.

“I just wanted to flirt – just a little bit, since he didn’t know,” he said. It hurt to talk. His lips were swollen and he could still taste the alcohol in his mouth. “It was just a little tease – but then, I don’t know – I started drinking and he started drinking-“

“Neither of you should have been drinking. It was a mission.”

“I saw you drinking,” Dick said.

“I didn’t wake up with someone else in my bed.”

“That’s a first,” Dick muttered.

“I heard that,” there was a long pause. Bruce’s voice was soft when he spoke again. “You could have told me, you know.”

“No, I couldn’t. Like – I could have, I guess. It’s not that simple, okay? It’s not that simple to go up to you and have this conversation. I don’t – where would I even start? How would I even have the courage to start?”

“Am I not approachable?”

“No – I don’t – you are, I guess. I – what if you had to come out to Alfred? Do you think it’d be easy?” Dick finally pulled his hand away from his face. It landed against Wally’s arm and his stomach stirred all over again.

“No,” Bruce’s glass was at his mouth. “But I wouldn’t want it to be hard for you, Dick.”

“It just is – that’s just how it is,” Dick’s gaze dropped to Wally’s face. He hadn’t noticed that Wally’s eyelashes were pale too, hardly casting shadows on his cheeks. His mouth was swollen, slightly parted as he slept. “Okay,” he took a breath and met Bruce’s gaze. This wasn’t how he imagined coming out, but he guessed it was as good a time as any. “I have something to tell you, Bruce.”

“What is it?”

“I’m gay.”

“Thank you for telling me. I will always love and support you no matter what,” Bruce said. Dick was surprised at the relief he felt flowing through him. He had always known it would be okay – but he still felt so relieved that it was. Even if sarcasm was creeping into both of their voices – how else would Dick Grayson come out to Bruce Wayne? “Were you safe?”

“Bruce – oh my God,” Dick buried his face in his hands again.

“It’s a question any parent would ask. Did you use protection?”

Dick stayed silent. His heart hammered against his ribs. He didn’t want to say it. He really didn’t want to have to say it – not to Bruce.

“One in my back pocket.”

“Good boy,” Bruce was smirking, he knew he was. It was his tip. He was the one who always said it to Dick. And, shit, it had worked.

“Bruce – he,” Dick swallowed. “He doesn’t know.”

“It’s safer that way.”

“You don’t understand. That was why he – he called me Robin,” Dick looked up at Bruce. His mouth was set in a firm line. He was quiet, studying Dick.

“What do you want to do?”

“You’d let me tell him?”

“If it would make the two of you happy,” Bruce put his glass back down on the side. “But it may be too late.”

“I know,” Dick twisted his hands on the blanket. He couldn’t imagine telling Wally now – not after keeping it for a secret for so long and not after last night. Not when Wally guessed – when Wally knew and Dick didn’t tell him.

He’d probably ruined it. Last night really would be their only chance. He couldn’t imagine Wally ever trusting him again if he told him now.

Bruce ruffled his hair, leaving it in a spiky mess.

“You’ll figure it out,” Bruce muttered, leaving the room. He shut the door with a definite click. That was that he supposed. It had been too heavy a conversation at whatever time it was in the morning. And Dick’s head was still spinning like a top, so he sighed and slipped back under the blanket. He turned into Wally’s arm, nudging his head under Wally’s chin and closing his eyes again. He wasn’t sleeping. His head was pounding like there was a goblin inside it desperate to come out, but he didn’t want to fall asleep again. He wanted to pretend that he’d been asleep all this time and not think about whether or not to tell Wally the truth.

Wally groaned against Dick’s forehead, his arms tightening around Dick. He could pinpoint the moment the other boy woke, because his breath hitched and he whispered, “fuck.”

Dick had been planning to pretend he was asleep. He had resolved to either let Wally wake him up, or let Wally slip out on his own, but the resolve broke almost instantly.

“Yeah, that’s about where I am too,” he whispered.

Wally let out another small groan. “How long have you been awake?”

Dick sighed against Wally’s shoulder. “Long enough to have to come out to Bruce.”

“Fuck!” Wally’s fingers curled on Dick’s back and he opened his eyes to see the look of absolute horror on Wally’s face. He felt his lips quirk upwards in a smile. “Bruce Wayne knows that we – oh God – I’m in Bruce Wayne’s mansion with Dick Grayson and Dick Grayson is naked.”

“You’re naked too, you know,” Dick murmured, pushing his leg inbetween Wally’s.

“Fuck,” Wally was pulling away slightly, his hands retracting to Dick’s shoulders as he stared at him. “Was he – okay with-?”

“I think,” Dick said. “It’s hard to tell. He didn’t care that you-“ Dick paused, enjoying the cringe that passed across Wally’s face. “Stayed the night. He seemed – okay, yeah.”

“I can’t believe I’m naked on Bruce Wayne’s couch,” Wally muttered.

Dick shrugged. He was still tired, his head was still pounding – he buried himself into Wally’s shoulder.

But Wally didn’t move.

“Wally?” Dick whispered.

“I think I should – go,” Wally still sounded horrified, he sat up, letting Dick’s arms fall like dead weight onto the sofa.

“Was it really that bad?” Dick asked, propping himself back up on his elbows.

Wally looked back at him – a very naked Wally, with all of those abs glistening in the sunlight. His eyes, looking almost fluorescent, scanned down Dick’s body very quickly, then away.

“It wasn’t that – it’s not you,” Wally was wiggling into boxers and trousers. “It’s – this isn’t me. I don’t do this. Not – this. And I don’t think – I think it would be best if I go now.”

“Alfred’s probably going to make pancakes for breakfast,” Dick muttered. He covered his face with his arm so that Wally couldn’t read his expression. So that Wally couldn’t see the disappointment in his face. “Pancakes with whipped cream, strawberries, blueberries – bacon, probably even chocolate ice cream.”

There was a pause. Dick had known there would be.

“Did you say chocolate ice cream?”

“Mmm,” Dick chanced a peek under his arm. Wally was still topless, staring at Dick. His mouth quirked into a smile.

“How did you know that’s my favourite pancake topping?”

“Is it? That’s weird,” Dick mostly faked a yawn and stretched. “Of course, you were going, so-”

“The team’s probably worried about me,” Wally was murmuring. He sat back on the sofa, by Dick’s feet. “Hell, Uncle Barry’s probably worried about me. And Robin – Nightwing – what do I tell him? That I pretended – no, it’s cringy to say out loud sober.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Dick said, because hearing his superhero names had made his stomach lurch more than the smell of gin did. “Stay for breakfast, don’t tell Robin – tell everyone that you met a friend from school and ended up going back to his hotel room and chatting most of the night.”

“Did you come up with that just now?” Wally raised an eyebrow at Dick. He smiled and shrugged, the smile dropping when Wally sighed. “I can’t just not tell him. We tell each other everything.”

Everything excluding that you’re bi, Dick thought. Everything excluding your past. Everything excluding my past. Everything excluding my name.

“He might take it as a compliment.”

“You think?”

Dick just shrugged again, swinging his legs off the couch. It was then he noticed that his was sore. The throbbing that had been background noise was suddenly there and wince inducing.

Wally caught the wince – because of course he did.

“Shit – are you okay? Oh God, this is-“

“I’m fine,” Dick kept the blanket over his lap as he kicked his clothes up. He wasn’t looking at Wally, it had suddenly got a lot harder to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dick wiggled into his clothes. He fully intended to hide from the world until the ache had died down. That was the last thing he needed anyone seeing.

He paused, his shirt still unbuttoned, when he noticed that Wally was still sat at the end of the couch, his face still buried in his fingers. It made him feel a little better about his own reaction not half an hour ago.

Dick sat and gathered his confidence. He felt like his mouth was shaking. Then he took Wally’s wrists, pulling them away from his cheeks.

“Hey,” he muttered. “I told you not to worry.”

“Is this normal for you?” the words were rushing out of Wally and this time he didn’t pick up the wince. “I mean, how many times have you-“

“I don’t do this. Not a lot. Not ever.”

“So what about me…” Wally trailed off, his eyes searching Dick’s. Dick found himself frozen under that stare. Something was going on. Wally was figuring something out. He knew it in his gut and a large part of him wanted Wally to figure it out. “It’s so weird - I remember you sounding just like…”

He trailed off again, and this time he was frowning. It was the frown that spurred Dick into action, made him link his fingers with Wally’s and pull him from the sofa. “Come on, let’s get breakfast.”

Dick hoped he was walking normally by the time he headed back to Mount Justice. It was the evening – he hoped he was over it by now. The buzz of voices was still too much for his cotton-wool head and he found himself pouring a large coffee automatically.

“-So weird – we didn’t see you at all!” Zatanna was saying.

He just smiled and shrugged, and let Jason say “well, we were trained by Batman.”

Kid Flash was at Dick’s side in the next second, his hood pushed down from his face so that the mask hung like a decapitated head from his neck.

“Pour me a cup of that, Rob – Nightwing?” He wasn’t meeting Dick’s eyes.

“Speaking of people we didn’t see all evening,” Artemis was smiling, sat on the edge of the kitchen table with her legs resting on the back of Zatanna’s chair.

“Yeah, Wally – what happened to you?”

“They tried to make us all stay behind and look for you.” Connor muttered. He was leaning against the doorway, his eyes half closed. Dick wondered if it was his first hangover.

“Oh, I was just – there was a friend I used to go to middle school with,” Wally was saying. He took the mug from Dick without looking. “I bumped into him and we got talking and next thing you know, it’s three o’clock and we’re still sat in his hotel room laughing it up.”

“What was his name?” he didn’t know why he asked. Maybe it was in an effort to cover his tracks, maybe he wanted to see how thought out Wally’s story was.

No, he wanted to see if Wally would admit it. There was a small part of him that wanted Wally to turn around and com clean.

“Hm?” his hair was a ruffled mess, like a bright orange bird’s nest on his head.

“Your friend,” Dick said. “What’s his name?”

“Fred-die,” Wally said slowly. “Merc – Mercury-“ there was a beat. “-Is what we used to call him, when we were at school, because he – sung. He sung songs. A lot.”

There was a long silence in the room. Dick could tell that no one quite believed Wally, but no one quite had the heart to push him.

“Are you sure his name wasn’t Richard?”

Jason sipped from his coffee – who even let that kid drink coffee? Had Dick drunk coffee that young? – and smirked slightly. His dark eyes flickered up to meet Wally’s. No doubt he was remembering them shuffling past him into the dining room, heavy eyed and miserable. He had been smirking at Dick all day, at one point sweetly asking if he was ever going to come out to his little brother. Dick had flipped him off.

There was an awkward silence in the kitchen. Wally was staring at Jason like he’d just taken the cat outside and shot it in the head. Dick was glaring at him, but Jason didn’t seem to care. He had learnt to hold his poker face very quickly in Wayne Manor.

“Robin, I think you stayed up a little too late last night,” Dick said, fixing his own sweet smile on his face.

“Funny, I was going to tell you the same thing.”

“Maybe you should catch up on your sleep?” there was an edge in his voice now. The ‘I’m older than you, so you better listen to me’ edge. It made Jason pause and it knocked the smirk from his face.

“You’re not Batman,” he muttered, but he took his coffee cup up and slinked out of the room.

Artemis was the one who was picking up on the tension. Her eyes had been flickering between Jason to Dick to Wally like she was watching a three-way tennis match. They were narrowed and Dick had a feeling that she had a hunch at what the situation was.

“Nightwing has a good point,” she said, coolly. “I’m going to head home.”

She gave Zatanna a meaningful glance. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, further proving Dick’s hypothesis that girls had a psychic connection to each other.

“Same,” Zatanna stood, a small smile on her face. “We’ll see you boys later,” she paused at the doorway, then nudged Connor’s arm and said meaningfully. “Let’s get something to help with your head.”

And just like that, as though it had been planned out completely, Wally and Dick were alone in the kitchen at Mount Justice. There was a long, awkward silence where they avoided each other’s eyes. Wally didn’t seem to make a move. He didn’t seem about to come clean about it.

“Maybe I should check on Jason,” Dick said, taking a large gulp of coffee.

“Wait,” Wally sighed, lowering his mug from his mouth so that he was cradling it in his hands. He still wasn’t looking at Dick. “Look, there was – I did spent the night with someone called Richard.”

“Wally-“ his stomach was suddenly turning. He wasn’t sure if he wanted this. He did, but he didn’t. It was just like coming out – it was the fear of the unknown that was making him feel sick.

“I was with Dick Grayson,” the words were falling out of Wally’s mouth so quickly that they threatened to merge into each other. “I swear, I didn’t mean to – it was just, we were just talking and then suddenly we were-“

“Why are you talking like you were cheating on me?” Dick’s voice sounded way too soft – way too calm when his heart felt like a rollercoaster track. He couldn’t even tell why he asked – he knew all the answers. It suddenly didn’t seem such a liberating thing. Suddenly he wished this was the first time he had learnt about it.

“Because…” Wally frowned at the floor. His mouth made movements as though it had the words to explain, but no sound came out.

He could just laugh it off and walk away. But his stomach had leapt and dived so sickeningly whenever he thought of facing Wally all day. It was swooping up and down like an eagle now, just standing next to him, not saying anything. He wouldn’t be able to keep going on like this. Wally would probably hate him when he came clean, but it was better than feeling like he was being eaten from the inside out. If everything was on the table, then at least they could try and sort out the mess.

“Look, KF, I – I knew about it,” Dick said, he felt Wally’s eyes on his face but kept staring into his coffee. He had been holding it for so long that the milk had started to separate, floating on the surface like limescale. “God, how do I say this without sounding like a complete asshole?” he took another breath, feeling the air press against every one of his ribs. Wally didn’t give him an answer – how could he? He had started this now – it was better to just take a dive. A dive was what started all of this. “I knew about it – because, I was there.”

Wally was silent. The silence rang like a warning bell in Dick’s ears. Finally, after what seemed like an age of listening to non-existent ringing, Wally spoke, slowly. “I am very hungover. You’re going to have to explain.”

“Do you really think there’s another person on this planet that says ‘whelmed?’” Dick asked. He chanced a glance upwards, just in time to see Wally’s eyes widen and his chest stop moving. Wally was staring at him like he was a stranger. Like he’d just been slapped in the face. It drove Dick on – to what he really needed to say. “You never told me about your dad.”

Wally was quiet. Then he leant against the fridge, his elbow just knocking against Dick’s.

“You never told me about your parents,” he said, his voice low, like it hurt to speak.

“You never said you were bi-“

“You never said you were gay!” Wally pushed off of the fridge, coffee spilling from his mug in a wave. He stared at Dick for a moment, his eyes alight, then slammed his fist against the side of the fridge. The sound should have made Dick jump, but he barely even blinked. He felt like he was stuck in a nightmare – frozen in place and unable to say anything. “Fuck, you never even told me your first name! What – now – now because you’ve fucked me you’re allowed to tell me? Is that Batman’s rule? You can’t tell your best friend, but a one night stand-“

“I never meant for you to be a one night stand!” there was his voice. The button that Wally had to press, because none of the others got to him anymore. There was a sore ball sitting in his throat. He swallowed it down, trying to force his breathing back to normal. “Christ, Wally, I just wanted to flirt with you a bit because I was out of costume and it was easier than being in them. Because I was just a guy hitting on you at a party, not your best friend.”

“It’s easier to talk to me as a random stranger than as your best friend?” Wally was still shouting. His fist was still on the fridge.

“It’s a hell of a lot easier to tell you that I like you, yeah!” Dick yelled back. It was easy to yell. It was easy to be mad at Wally even though it was all his fault. If he wasn’t mad, he would break down.

Anger was written on every part of Wally’s face as he glared at Dick.

"Take off the mask,” he said, suddenly. He was so confident that Dick almost did it by instinct.

Almost.

“What?” it had thrown him off. He had been expecting a right hook, the way Wally was looking at him.

“Take off the mask, Dick,” Wally repeated, his voice steady for the first time in five minutes. The anger had subsided, slightly. There was something else on his face now. Fear? Hurt?

If taking off the mask helped, then so be it. Dick closed his eyes, his fingers fumbling on the knots at the back of his domino. His fingers were shaking and the knots were too tight, but Wally was patient. He waited until the mask fell to the ground, fluttering slightly. It lay on the tiled kitchen like a skinny, black snake.

Dick let himself take his time to look back up at Wally. He needed to work his way up to those bright green eyes. Cat’s eyes. Scared – he was sure that he looked scared. He was sure that Wally would be able to see his heart beating in his mouth. He couldn’t swallow it back down.

Wally was staring – of course he was. He was tracing Dick’s features with his eyes, matching them up to the boy he saw last night. Making sure that that was still Nightwing’s jaw and mouth and eyes on Dick Grayson’s face. What was going through his head? Was he relieved – just a little bit? Or was he deciding to separate the two back into each other and never mention this again?

He stepped forward, his feet either side of Dick’s, still staring at him. Staring at him like he was a mythical creature who had just wandered into the living room. Like he was a puzzle Wally was still trying to figure out.

Dick stayed still – very still, as Wally’s hands approached his face. He could only watch and try to breathe as Wally pushed his hair back. Pushed the stray dark hairs into the hairstyle he was wearing last night. His hands felt the same – of course they did – but Dick wasn’t expecting to be teleported back to that cupboard, reliving Wally pressed against him in the dark.

“My favourite pancake topping is chocolate ice cream,” Wally murmured. His eyes flickered between Dick’s, waiting for a reaction.

“I know,” Dick whispered. His hands were hovering over Wally’s waist – like he was something hot that he couldn’t touch without being burned.

“You knew. All night,” Wally’s voice was still a hoarse whisper.

Dick swallowed. This was the inevitable.

“...yeah,” he said.

“I should really hate you,” Wally’s fingers slipped on Dick’s hair. Stray strands fell back over his eyes, like the image was breaking up. “I should really hate you for this.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t I hate you?” Wally’s forehead bumped against Dick’s – hard enough to make him wince, but not hard enough for him to pull away. His eyes were just a sea of green in Dick’s vision. He let himself be lost in them.

“I’m so, so sorry, Wally,” it was the only thing that was going through Dick’s head.

“You should be. But, you don’t need to be,” Wally’s hands dropped suddenly. He gave a shaky laugh, his forehead bumping against Dick’s. “This can’t be real – it’s ridiculous! This is something from a cartoon or a kid’s show – the guy I like is – of course, he’s the guy who flirted with me at a boring party. Things shouldn’t work out this cleanly.”

Dick stayed silent. He was still waiting. He didn’t know what he was waiting for.

Wally’s head dropped, falling to Dick’s shoulder. He tentatively put his arms around him, like he was scared Dick was going to disappear in a puff of smoke.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked. “I mean – are we, is this all okay?”

“I don’t know. I guess – it’s,” Wally sighed. “Hypothetically. Once I get my head around it.”

Dick could live with that.

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gayestnerdsinfiction · 6 years ago

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Isaac and the Angel - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Isaac is used to the angel disappearing indefinitely without notice. He learned early on that he has no claim to Israfil’s time or the ways he chooses to spend it. Where he goes or when he’ll be back isn’t Isaac’s business—and it’s not like he loses sleep over what Isaac does when he’s away from the apartment.

Isaac begins to gather the breakfast dishes, hoping that having a task to complete will put his mind at ease. He always gets anxious when Israfil is away—there’s really no avoiding it. But at least he has the small comfort of knowing that Israfil is off doing whatever he wants. And it feels petty to deny him his freedom just because it makes Isaac nervous.

But something about this feels different. For some reason, Isaac can’t shake the feeling that his angel has been taken. He mentioned a cousin—perhaps the other angels finally managed to snatch him up and put him in… angel jail.

No, that’s ridiculous. Angels don’t have jail. Probably.

Besides, from what he’s seen it looks like angels have a flair for the dramatics (he can see where the Catholics get it from). It seems out of character for them to just… whisk Israfil away without sending, like, a lightning bolt or something to zap him out of reality. So maybe they haven’t gotten to him after all.

It occurs to him, as he submerges the dishes in warm, soapy water, that he could’ve been taken by the other side. Isaac has never really thought to ask about Hell or demons or anything like that. But the Devil used to be an angel, didn’t he? Maybe that’s what Israfil meant when he said his cousin was calling.

But maybe that’s a stupid idea too.

He sighs, staring listlessly down at the water. He watches the bubbles swirl and froth in the sink basin like puffy clouds floating lazily through a clear sky. It dawns on him how positively exhausted he is. His body aches and his head feels like a sack of rocks held up only by the force of a very sore but ever persistent spine. Maybe Israfil was right. Maybe he should’ve slept properly. But every time he closes his eyes he’s struck with the memory of two blazing creatures screeching and hissing in a language both more beautiful and more terrifying than any human language he’s ever heard.

Isaac shudders, sinking his arms deep into the water to retrieve a bowl. He rinses the soap off, drying it with a towel. He hopes Israfil is okay. He doesn’t know what he’d do if—

His phone rings suddenly and he practically jumps ten feet in the air. Somehow he manages not to let the bowl slip from his grasp and he sets it carefully on the counter before all but running to snatch his phone off the coffee table. “Hello?” he says, accepting the call without checking the caller ID.

“Hey,” Vivian’s voice responds. “Are you okay? You sound really stressed out.”

Isaac exhales slowly, relaxing a little. “I’m always stressed out.”

“I know, but like… more than usual.”

“It’s fine. I’m just giving myself an anxiety attack for no reason.” He tucks the phone snugly between his ear and shoulder, drying his hands off on his pants. “What’s up?”

“Oh, I was just gonna ask if you’re doing anything today,” she says. “Maybe we could grab lunch or wander around downtown or something.”

Isaac hesitates. He doesn’t have any plans, but he doesn’t know if he has the energy to go do something today. After all, he’s still recovering from the craziness of the past few days. Who knows what could happen to him if he goes out again today?

Then again, he can’t just become a hermit and ignore his friends just because he’s a little bit traumatized.

Or maybe that’s the perfect reason to become a hermit and ignore his friends.

“Hel-lo?” Vivian says pointedly, breaking through Isaac’s reverie. “Are you still there?”

“Still here, sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “Just thinking. Listen, do you think you could come over? I don’t know if I’m really in the mood to go out today.”

“Is everything okay?” Vivian asks again, this time sounding truly concerned. “Did something happen with the angel?”

“There’s always something happening with the angel,” he mutters. “It’s a lot to get into over the phone.”

“Oh boy,” she says under her breath. “Okay, give me a little bit to shower and grab a coffee and stuff and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?”

Isaac nods. “Sounds good. See you in a bit.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Bye.”

____

“…and then he just disappeared,” Isaac finishes, cupping his hands around the steaming hot chocolate Vivian had picked up for him on her way over. “And that was… I don’t know, maybe a couple hours ago.”

Vivian stares at him, her mouth hanging slightly agape. After a few moments of silence she snaps her mouth shut and feigns a pout, grumbling, “God, why does all the interesting stuff happen to you?”

“I think this is the only interesting thing that’s ever happened to me.” He takes a sip of the drink. Feels the liquid slide down his throat. “Fuck, I feel like I’ve gotten ten times as crazy in the past couple months. And this week has just been—I mean, every day it’s something new, you know? And who knows what fresh hell he’s going to drop into my lap when he gets back.”

“He could come back with good news,” she suggests, but Isaac can tell she doesn’t even believe her own optimism. “Like, maybe he’ll come back and tell you he’s… un-fallen and he can finally go back to Heaven and everything will go back to normal.”

“That seems unlikely.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Vivian slumps over the arm of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe,” she begins, “he’ll come back having killed all the bad angels and now no one will ever bother you again and you can live happily ever after with your angel roommate.”

He frowns. “I don’t know. They seem pretty hard to kill.”

“Well, that’s why it’s taking him so long.” She sits up, grinning at Isaac. “He has to have a long, drawn out battle with every single angel that’s out to get you. Like how in Naruto they’ll spend three episodes fighting the same group of teenagers.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Could be days before he’s done.”

“I don’t think this is anything like Naruto.”

“You’re right,” she agrees. “This is way more like Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

Isaac rolls his eyes, giving Vivian a soft kick from across the couch. “That’s not funny.”

“I think it’s pretty funny.” She taps her fingernails against her coffee cup. “So…” she says tentatively, “when they fought… what was it like?”

Isaac’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly very dry. “I couldn’t see most of it,” he says, lowering his voice. “It hurt to look at them for too long, but—it’s hard to describe.” He takes another drink, trying to think of a way to put what he saw into words without conjuring the memory again. “It was kind of like… in science documentaries when they show two stars colliding. Only way more terrifying and, um, alarmingly close.”

“Wicked,” Vivian says softly. “That sounds like something out of a movie.”

His jaw twitches uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, movies are fun to watch. Not so much fun to… live in, I guess.”

“I’ve never seen a movie.”

Isaac yelps in surprise and Vivian starts, turning sharply towards the third speaker. Israfil stands in the kitchen, looking vaguely confused but otherwise normal. “Holy shit,” she says, clutching dramatically at her heart with one hand. “You scared the living daylights out of us.”

Israfil tilts his head slightly to the side. “Sorry.”

“Where have you been?” Isaac asks a little too harshly. “You just disappeared!”

“I was summoned,” he says simply. “I have a job now. And a house, apparently.”

Isaac misses the good old days where he could understand what was going on at any given moment. “A house?”

“Can we see it?” Vivian chimes in.

“It’s in Hell, so probably not.” Then, he adds quietly, “I haven’t even seen it yet, come to think of it.”

“You have a house in Hell?”

“Did you… just get back from Hell?” Vivian asks, eyeing Israfil suspiciously.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“So,” Vivian says slowly, “you got summoned to Hell, were given a house and a job in Hell—and knowing you, your boss will be, like, the fucking Devil himself or something—and somehow thought the most interesting part of that story was the fact that you got a job and a house?”

Israfil shrugs, coming out of the kitchen and taking a seat on the floor by the window. “Isaac seems pretty interested in the house.”

Isaac shakes his head in disbelief. “I just cannot imagine him owning property.”

“And—I’m sorry, did you say you’ve never seen a movie?” Vivian asks abruptly.

“I’m beginning to wish I had stayed in Hell,” Israfil mutters. “You know Satan was nicer to me than you two.”

“Oh my God, Hell is real,” Isaac mumbles, sinking back against the couch cushions. “It really just hit me that Hell is actually real.” His fingers begin to tremble slightly.

“It wasn’t as scary as you’d expect,” he offers helpfully. “Granted, I didn’t see any of the, er… torture stuff. But the part I was in was very stylish and businesslike.”

Isaac gives Vivian a panicked look, feeling deeply distressed by the realization that he could, quite possibly, end up in Hell. Beyond the basic aspects of his identity and background that are generally equated with sin, he hasn’t exactly maintained a good Christian lifestyle over the years. He hasn’t even maintained a good Jewish lifestyle. Things aren’t looking too good for his immortal soul right now. “You know all the fucked up stuff I did in college,” he whispers frantically to her. “There is no way I’m getting let into Heaven.”

“You’re not going to Hell,” Israfil says calmly.

“What about me, am I going to Hell?” Vivian asks.

“Probably not.” His eyes are fixed on Isaac. “It’s alright,” he murmurs. “You’re not going to Hell, and even if you were it wouldn’t be for a long time. Just because Hell and Heaven are real doesn’t mean humans are right about who gets to go where.” He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Even the ones who have a whole religion to support their theories.”

“Do you know for sure that we’re not going to Hell, or are you just saying that so Isaac doesn’t blow a blood vessel?”

“Just let him lie to me,” Isaac mumbles, holding his head in his hands. “I’d rather not know the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Israfil says. “Besides, omission is my preferred method of deception.”

“I don’t think that’s as reassuring as you think it is,” Vivian says quietly, leaning towards the angel as if sharing a secret.

“I wasn’t trying to be reassuring. I was just stating a fact.”

“So are you going to go live in Hell now?” Isaac asks bitterly. Perhaps he’s just in a foul mood today, or perhaps he’s irritable as a result of how truly and profoundly anxious he has been for the past twenty-four hours, but either way he does not possess the willpower to be nice right now.

Israfil gives him a funny look that he can’t at all read. “Should I?” he asks softly.

Isaac shrugs. “It’s not like I have any control over you or your choices.”

“I know that. But I still value your opinions.”

He feels his face grow warm and he scowls, his gaze shifting away from the angel. He doesn’t know what to say to that. It doesn’t feel true, but it seems like Israfil wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t at least think it was true.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Israfil continues. “At least not until everything’s settled down. But I know it must be… inconvenient having me in your home.” He bites the edge of his lip. “I could go. If you told me you wanted me to.”

This is not a conversation Isaac wants to have in front of Vivian. He worries that any answer he gives will be too indicative of how… attached he is to the angel. “If you weren’t planning to go, I’m not going to make you go,” he says, trying to sound ambivalent. “I was just asking.”

“I see.” He clears his throat quietly, sharing a look with Vivian that makes Isaac want to scream. “I think,” he says slowly, “I’m going to go out for a walk. Maybe see if there’s anything interesting in that lake.” He gets up from his place on the floor, smoothing his hands over his velvet pants. “Won’t be long.” And then he vanishes again, leaving Isaac and Vivian alone once more.

“It seems like he’s gotten weirder since I last saw him,” Vivian remarks after a moment of silence. “What was up with his Clif Bar shirt?”

Isaac shakes his head. “I literally have no idea.”

#isaac and the angel #my writing #writing #creative writing #angels #fallen angels #original writing #original story #original characters #oc #not scriddler

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anon-luv · 7 years ago

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I’ll Never Be Her(4) [Jimin X Reader]

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Genre: Angst/ Romance

Summary: You loved him with all your heart, but he could only give you half of his.

Jimin was the love of your life, your night in shining armor when she wasn’t around.

She was his ex girlfriend, his first love, actually she was his many firsts and she kept coming back.

He had warned you she was his weakness, but you didn’t listen, because to you having him even if it was only partially was better than not having him at all.

At least for now.

Rated M: Sexual Scenes and Languages that might not be appropriate for all ages.

Word Count: 4.1K+

Author’s Note: Sorry it took so long. I have a new job and I am going through orientation and that takes a lot of my time. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I overthought the world like I always do, but I am hoping it is of your satisfaction.

You know how much I love receiving your comments/messages/asks/reblog tags

I look through every single one of them :D and I will try my hardest to respond to them as well.

Let me know what you all think. There is only one chapter left and an epilogue ;) are you all excited??

I am so nervous to post this haha. LEAVE SOME LOVE!

I want to thank all my readers and mutuals for their support.

Specially @b-angst-tan who has been a lovely editor/ beta love her!!

The dim lighting in the narrow halls along with the stale smell of cleaning supplies had you on the verge of waddling back to the safety of Jin’s car. The squeaking of your shoes echoed loudly on the barely inhabited waiting area. The dull sickly shades of green intimidating the living daylights out of you, as you made your way towards the nurse station and registration area slowly, wary of tripping and eating shit, which to be honest with your luck nowadays it wouldn’t come as a surprise.

“Hello, Darling! May I help you with something? You look a little lost there.” An older looking lady with peppered hair said giving you a small smile.

You nodded as you rubbed your belly, a weird feeling erupting from the pit of your stomach, making it feel a bit sensitive and stiff as if you were flexing. You took a deep breath and quietly cursed your body’s onset timing for what you had concluded were Braxton Hicks. You smiled back ignoring the weird sensation, “Yes, I came to visit a patient.”

“That’s great. What is the patient’s name? Are you a family member?” she asked as she started clicking away on her computer.

“No...I am not...actually…” You started only to be interrupted by a familiar, deep honey-like voice.

“Y/N?” a familiar deep voice questioned as he came into full view.

He looked different than last time you saw him. His usually bleach blond locks were now dyed a dark brown that matched perfectly with his brown orbs. He smiled at you, the familiar gummy smile that you had grown to love and now associate to a brotherly figure.

“Yoongi!” You said smiling widely at him, the sorrow and pain associated with Jimin’s abandonment forgotten for a brief moment as you were engulfed in a warm hug, “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been way too long!”

He chuckled as he ruffled your hair, “Yeah I know. Last time I saw you, you didn’t look like you were hiding a basketball underneath your shirt. I am wondering how you haven’t fallen face first with that cute belly of yours. You are definitely glowing and look absolutely stunning, Stef was right.”

Your face paled at the mention of her name as Yoongi’s bright smile turned into a grimace.

“Yeah, Stephany….How is she doing??” You asked trying to sound unaffected as the light tremble of your voice gave you away.

Yoongi reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly, “She is doing good..actually, I was going to ask you.. is it okay if we have a coffee and maybe talk??”

You nodded, “Milk and cookies and you have a deal.” Another awkward cramp shot up your back making you squirm in place, “Is there a cafeteria or something. My pregnant butt needs to sit.”

Yoongi nods happily, “Yeah, it is right over there, let me help you with that.” He said taking the damp umbrella and purse from your hands.

You waddled next to him as he glanced at you every once in a while with a small smile on his face.

You plopped down happily at the first table you found, not even giving Yoongi the opportunity to seek out another one.

“I’ll be back,” he said as he walked towards the small serving area. The cafeteria was for the most part empty other than the bored looking teenage cashier who you were more than sure was more focused on the pink cell phone on her hand than her surroundings.

Yoongi placed a warm cup of milk and a bag of chocolate chip cookies on the table, displaying it as a beautiful buffet for your weak for munchies ass.

“So what do you want to talk about?” You asked as you eagerly opened the bag in front of you and plopped a whole cookie in your mouth successfully.

“I want to say I am sorry.” He said no longer looking at you, but instead focusing at the gray, dull coffee mug in front of him as if it was an intricate piece of art, “I called Jimin…..I told him to come.”

The hunger that had been pestering you since you had left your apartment, evaporated into nothingness with that lone sentence. Your belly contracted a bit more painful than usual as you wiggled yourself repositioning to hopefully soothe the dull tightness.

“How?” You asked quietly as you stared up into his eyes, your own already tearing up from all the emotions you had bottled up all these years, “How..how..how can you do it? How do you just sit and watch, as you watch her walk away into someone else’s arms, arms that aren’t yours? How do you go to sleep and wake up without knowing if she is going to be there in the morning? How do you numb yourself knowing that you might not be her first priority? How…..do you make it stop hurting? Does it hurt you as much as it hurts me? Cause….fuck ….excuse my french…..The only thing that comes to mind is ‘that fucking bitch’ when I hear her name coming from his lips. And it sucks because I know Stephany. I have grown close to her in ways I probably shouldn’t have. I love and care for her as well, but I am not okay with it..especially when it comes to Jimin’s love. I can’t stand watching her dance around boundaries she shouldn’t be crossing in the first place”

Yoongi ruffled his hair, the sadness in his eyes clearly noticeable, something you had never witnessed personally, “To be honest...I hate it....but at the same time….. I have come to realize that the only reason why I have put up with it in the first place is because I am fucking selfish.”

“Wait… How are you selfish? If anything Stephany is the selfish one. I don’t deserve this... You do not deserve this” you asked puzzled at his response.

“Look..” he said ruffling his hair nervously with one hand, “Stephany is my world. From the very first time I laid eyes on her, I knew she was the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. We have gone through so many things together, and I was there to pick up every piece whenever she would fall apart in my arms. When we found out about Nataly she was ecstatic, everything was getting better and then…. As I held our little girl in my arms I noticed something was off. Stephany seemed fine for the first few weeks, until one day she locked herself for three days in her room with our child refusing to come out unless it was absolutely necessary. She wouldn’t eat, she would barely talk, and she rarely slept. She had become so absorbed in her own little world, that she panicked if I even got near Nataly.” Yoongi sighs, but continues explaining himself.

“Then one day I ran into Jimin, I had not seen him in a while, and after exchanging numbers I was on my merry way. Stephany deteriorated and I took her almost forcefully to the doctor. That is when she got diagnosed with Postpartum Depression. I reached out to various resources trying to figure out how to help the love of my life, and after several therapy sessions and group talks I found out that sometimes an outlet or maybe revisiting things that had made her happy in the past can help to break the wall she was building around herself. I remembered how much she talked about Jimin and the adventures they would have when they were young. And that is when I decided that maybe meeting up with him would be a good idea. I wrote down his information on a sticky note before work hoping she would find it since she refused to acknowledge me on her low days. Before I knew it she was gone... And then... she left Nataly at his door... and I knew I had fucked up. From then on she did it several times... She would run from me and go to him..but she always comes back and I much rather have that and know she is safe even if it is not with me than have her leave and never return...”

You wiped the tears away from your eyes as you saw Yoongi fall apart bit by bit till he was a sobbing mess, you reached out your hand to grasp his tightly, “Yoongi, I know... With me and Jimin... it is not the same but I have had to share too and it is not healthy Yoongi. I have excused this behavior for years now and now that it will not only affect me but my babies as well. I’ve come to realize that sometimes you have to set your foot down.”

“I love her... And she’s not well... I feel like it is my fault... I am so sorry (Y/n) I didn’t think it was going to get this bad. I love you and even though he can be an asshole at times, I love Jimin as well. You have been such a great help with Nataly and Stephany. I am so sorry I didn’t talk to you about this before. I was scared. I thought if I didn’t address the problem it would just disappear... and it just got bigger and bigger. I know about everything (Y/n)... The kiss they almost shared and every time she would invade both of your lives and I am so sorry. I am going to make this okay and be stronger for her. That is why I am taking her away. Once she gets better... Maybe we can try this friendship thing again... Maybe, if you don’t hate us too much. It was not Jimin, (Y/n) I was the one at fault… I should’ve told her not to go. I should’ve taken care of her better so she wouldn’t have to seek anyone else but me. I am so sorry. Jimin really does love you (Y/n), he was just helping Stephany….us out.”

You gave him a side smile as you wiped the tears from your face. “Sure... that sounds good. And don’t be silly... We are always going to be friends.” you said as you grasped his face in your hand and wiped a tear away... Now let’s stop crying and start eating. My kids need to grow.”

Yoongi shook his head disbelievingly as a choked up sob came out mixed with a laugh, “Thank you, you are honestly one of the most amazing and understanding people on the world. Love you.”

“Love you too, Yoongi.” You said as Yoongi grasped both your hands in his, “You can do this Yoongi. You take care of your girls.”

He gave a gummy smile, “Thank you (y/n), I will.” He said as he stole a cookie from your hand.

You scowled at him playfully, “That, though...I might not forgive.”

You walked the hallways alone. The voices and whispers around you made your growing anxiety click like a bomb waiting to explode as you searched the room number Yoongi had written on your hand. Yoongi had left you on your own to head back home and continue packing. You had assured him you would be fine over and over again before he relented and went on his way.

Your phone vibrated in your hand a notification popped up showing Jin’s name.

I hope everything is ok. I am still outside just in case you need me. I will be waiting for you.

Jin 4:05pm

I am okay Jin love. I should be out soon. Just saying bye.

(Y/n) 4:06

You placed the phone back in your pocket, and out of nowhere, a familiar laugh sounded through the halls. Your pace quickened as you finally met up with the number you had been searching for what it felt like forever.

Your feet traveled towards the door that was left slightly ajar.“Nataly, you know that pink isn’t my color!” You heard Jimin say dramatically, as you peeked in through the door quietly.“But the ponytails look great on you and I ran out of blue rubber bands!” Nataly replied as she leaned in placing a smooch on his cheek.

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of Jimin kneeling on the floor, as Nataly sat on the edge of the bed doing his hair. Stephany sat on a bed with a wide grin on her face as her hand rested on Jimin’s. If a stranger would come in they would assume they were the happiest of families. The giggles inside the room were filled with pure happiness.

Stephany looked small in the medical bed, her usual full blond hair looked frizzy and unkept, her blue-eyed pools that could drown you were more of an icy gray, and her usually rosy cheeks looked gaunt and pale. Even in her current condition, she looked absolutely gorgeous, like a fairytale princess. Your stomach clenched again as you took an instinctive deep breath to soothe the uncomfortable pang.

A flashback of Yoongi’s voice resounded reminding you of how frail and delicate the woman you had believed was strong truly was.

Yoongi’s watery broken eyes staring straight at you flashed in your brain taking over your senses, “She took pills (Y/n), I got there just in time... But I almost lost her...”

Jimin stood up from his previous position and sat next to Stephany on the bed. She ran her small hand through his hair as he leaned into her warmth.

“You’re like a puppy Chimchim!” She said giggling as he stuck out his tongue playfully. Nataly quickly sat on his lap as she licked his cheek, “I wanna be a puppy too!”

You smiled at the scene unfolding as you rubbed your stomach that was once again cramping. You sighed sadly as you took a step back.

You couldn't do this. You didn’t want to interfere. They looked so happy and at peace. Maybe Stephany wasn’t the problem...maybe it had always been you.

Jimin leaned in to place a soft kiss on the crown of her forehead, the same kind you had felt every night you had spent in his arms as you crossed the threshold to dreamland. His soft plump lips blessing you with sweet dreams through the night.

You turned away from them and back to the door you had come from, throwing down the white towel...you had given up.

The rain poured relentlessly as you exited the building, camouflaging the tears that were falling down your face. You grasped your purse tightly against you as if it was a stress ball, turning your knuckles white.

It hurt, it really pained you to leave the man you loved behind. You were weak, you couldn’t do this.

Stephany didn’t have to leave. You did. They needed him. He had known this, but your selfish self had been reading way too much into it.

Nataly’s glimmering eyes as she stared at Jimin as if he was Superman himself.

You could stay…. You could bare it through at his side until Stephany got better… but when would that be?? Would it be a year from now??? Maybe 10???

The ongoing battle in your mind had caused another onset of cramps as you slowed down in place.

“Fuck...” you said out loud, as the cramp got more intense.

“(Y/n), are you okay??” You heard Jin say as he stood in front of you with an umbrella that was now covering you. The water was dripping against his forehead as he shivered.

“Seokjin, what are you doing outside?” You said trying to get closer to him so the umbrella could cover him as well.

“I told you I would be waiting for you silly.” He replied rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I know dork, but what are you doing out in the rain??” You asked as you brushed away a raindrop on his eyelash.

He gave you a nervous smile, “I was debating whether to go in or not… You were taking too long and I was starting to get worried.”

You shook your head with a small smile, “Jin, I really don’t deserve your ass!”

“You don’t, but I am here so.... how about we go back to the car? It’s starting to get chilly.” Jin replied as he wrapped a strong arm around you, “You are okay though, right?”

“Yes I am fine”

You lied.

There was something about Jimin’s eyes that had always captivated you. They were brown, the color of an old oak tree you would climb during the hot summers of your youth. Home, that is what his eyes would take you back to, in them you drowned and reminisced of the times where your biggest worry was learning how to tie your shoelaces.

His warmth was addicting. Being near him had always put you at ease no matter the situation. The way his strong arms would wrap around your waist pulling you into a tight embrace, flesh against flesh. A feeling that would borderline trigger your claustrophobia had become your favorite sensation.

The way his fringe would fall against his brow as he leaned down to capture your lips as he thrusted into you throughout the night, making you come undone over and over again, the both of you becoming one, would be an image embedded in your memory. A treasure you would admire from afar, too precious to touch.

The smile that had made you fall in love with him was not only reflected on his mouth, but also within the crinkles that appeared right beside his eyes. The contagious happiness that spread all over your body with every giggle and smirk that was thrown your way… There was nothing that would ever compare to that.

Just like in tug a war, as soon as the rope commences to burn along your skin and a light prickle of a sting awakens the trigger to drop it and give up, sometimes in life you must learn to let go.

Stubborn Love had held your hand and walked you all along the way, only stopping where you were at now, but your overly conscious insecurities and consistent state of neediness and selfishness could no longer bear the weight that had fallen upon your relationship from the very beginning, as the weak foundation it had been built on was hanging on by a thread, threatening to collapse at any moment.

Jin’s fingers tapped softly yet relentlessly along the steering wheel. You could tell he was anxious to question what had happened, but he knew better. Jin knew you. You sneaked glances his way as he focused on the road. Jin was handsome and strong, he had always been your shoulder to cry on and your personal diary; the only one who truly knew how you felt about Jimin and Stephany’s relationship. There were times where you wondered why hadn’t you fallen in love with him instead. From the beginning, you had never had doubts about your friendship or his loyalty. He knew your likes, dislikes, and where to set his boundaries.

The car stopped suddenly breaking you away from the thoughts that had been clouding your mind. He took a glance your way, catching your eyes with his brown ones. He tilted his head as he leaned in to wipe a tear that had been trailing along your cheek. You laid your hand against his letting it rest on your cheek. Your lips kissed the sensitive skin of his wrist as more tears traveled down your face.

“(Y/N)”, he whispered as his own voice was wavering slightly with emotions. You looked up to meet his eyes and you noticed they now looked pink and swollen, “I’m sorry…. I am really sorry about everything. I am sorry I pushed you his way. I didn’t know. I should’ve…”

You shook your head as you let go of his hand and it fell against your lap, “You have nothing to be sorry about Jin. You have been nothing less than wonder…ful. Sorry, I am having those fake contractions or whatever….they’re just uncomfortable.” You said, rubbing your belly.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He replied as he got out of the car quickly and ran to your side to help you out. You walked next to him as he held your hand all the way to your shared apartment with Jimin. You paused every once in a while to rub the cramp out of your belly.

The place felt cold and empty as you walked inside, the framed pictures taking you back to a happy place for a few seconds before reality came crashing down once again.

“(Y/N), I think you should lay down…. I’m starting to get worried about those cramps you are having.” Jin said as he took off his wet jacket. The rain had done a number on him as he made sure to cover you entirely with the umbrella leaving no room for himself.

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him tightly giving no fucks about the cold rainwater that was now soaking through your shirt, “Thank you Jin. Thank you so much. You deserve the world… scratch that, you deserve the whole fucking galaxy at this point.”

Jin chuckled lightly as he returned the hug and ran a hand through your hair. You felt a warm kiss against your head that had you looking up at his tall frame. He was close, so close to your now blushing face. His warm peppermint breath fanning against your skin. At this distance, you could make out every single eyelash, and can now perfectly memorize the pink that laid upon his plush lips.

“(Y/N),” he whispered softly enough to have you wondering if he had truly said something or it had just been a figment of your imagination.

You hummed questioningly not backing away.

“You are my galaxy,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead quickly about to back away from you as to not invade your personal space. Before he could take a step back your hands reached out to grasp his collar tightly.

His pupils dilated with mixed emotions you had never been able to decipher before, but now were as clear as day.

A second. That is all it took for you to completely erase every thought, memory, and guilt. That one second is all it took for you to fuse your lips against Jin’s blurring out the world. His lips were sweet and warm. They felt safe. They felt like they could be home. He responded almost automatically holding you closer than before, but then as you felt him ask for entrance Jimin’s face popped into your mind. The way Jimin’s hands held your face as he deepened his kisses as his thumb caressed the back of your ear soothingly as opposed to Jin’s, that were holding on to your sides with trembling fingers, wary that you would push him away. Jimin nibbled on your bottom lip softly whenever he would ask for entrance causing your core to explode with heat that could overpower a volcano anyday. Jin was careful and soft, licking your bottom lip before you allowed him to take over. Jimin was rough and passionate. Jin was soft and careful. Jimin was dangerous and unpredictable. Jin was safe and cautious.

Jimin…..

A warm liquid traveled along your leg. At first, you thought it was the rainwater dripping from Jin’s soaked clothes, but the drip turned into a continuous leak and the contrast from the cold water falling from his hair to your face was quite obvious.

Jin backed away before you could react. His face went into panic mode as he looked down, the clear evidence of the unknown liquid all over the floor and his pants.

“Did I make you pee yourself??” He asked in a small, confused voice.

You remained quiet and stunned as you looked at your belly.

Jin caught onto your line of sight staring with wide eyes and open mouth gaping at your belly.

Frightened, you stared up at him, “Jin, I think my water broke...”

Before you could react Jin had already picked you up in his arms cradling you easily against his body. Your instincts kicked in as you kept in mind the birthing classes you had forcefully attended.

“Wait, what the hell are you doing??? You know I can walk right?? Just go get the two diaper bags next to my bed and let’s go to the hospital. Everything is going to be okay. Look at me.” You said grasping his face in your hands as soon as he set you back on your feet. Jin’s face was red and you could tell he was borderline hyperventilating. “I can’t have you pass out on me, so follow along to my breathing pattern…. In …...out…….In ….Out. Better??” you asked as he nodded quickly, “Okay, it’s time to go.”

#kreativewritersnet #kkreationsnet #networkbangtan #kpopwonderlandtag #bts angst #bts romance #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin angst #jimin romance #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin x reader #jimin x you #seokjin scenarios #seokjin fanfic #seokjin angst #jimin series

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sunaprincess7 · 7 years ago

Text

Her Oddest Customer

So guys, here it is! I tried to get this up before the Royal Wedding but no such luck. Hope you all enjoy!

FF.net

Summary: Lily Evans has just opened a cafe which serves musicians, models...and Royalty apparently.

Installing a little gold bell above the door of her shop had been the best decision she'd made yet, Lily believed, as she gazed up at the small object and enjoyed it's shiny appearance.

She'd always worried that her idea of a coffee shop and bakery in Knightsbridge was too unoriginal and uninspired to attract customers or, more importantly, repeat customers. But, knowing that her father had left her the premises to do what she wanted with and knowing that, if she failed, she could still sell the building for a decent amount, gave her a certain freedom when deciding on her business.

Lily could always bake. And at uni, she'd tried to learn about coffee. At the very least, she knew what she liked and didn't like. And more importantly, she adored tea. She would never have believed that trying 300 different flavours of herbal tea would give her such joy but here she was. Out of each of the 300 cups of tea floated the steam and the scent that let Lily know she was making the correct choice in opening her little shop.

She'd tried to make 'Lily's' as like it's owner as possible. The lower level at the back kept the shelves that had previously housed most of her father's bookshop offerings. She'd filled these shelves with books again - not the precious, original edition or leather-bound books that her father sold - but lighter, yellower and flakier paperbacks that you could put a coffee ring on or dog-ear the page and no one would care. She chose books that she hoped would cater to every taste but kept a small section for herself near the corner wall on the right hand side. At least, if no one came in, she could read.

Near the front of the shop, Lily had a bar bench and stools by the window as well as a few tables and chairs. One table and two chairs sat directly beside her counter. Behind the counter there was a coffee machine, her hot water dispenser and her refrigerated glass cabinet which housed the baked goods she made each morning in the kitchen behind the counter. If they didn't look completely professional, they tasted as good and that was all Lily cared about. She kept the frosted glass that her father had installed, if for no other reason than it was too expensive to replace just yet.

She had only been open one month and business had been steady. She still hadn’t taken down the ‘congratulations’ cards from her friends that she’d decorated the top of the shelves with. She enjoyed looking at them every day, reminding herself of what she had accomplished just by getting the place up and running. And the main reason she adored that little bell was because every time it rang, she knew that someone else was coming into her shop. What she knew now, and what she didn't know when she installed the bell, was that she had never truly expected anyone to want to come into her cafe and that bell proved her wrong every time it sang.

Her opening hours were usual for a business but seeing as how it was she was the only staff member and could run the place for a minimum during daylight hours, Lily also opened the shop at 8am on a Sunday morning. She baked some fresh pastries and doughnuts but also sold any leftovers from Saturday at a discount.

Most Sunday mornings she didn't see anyone before 11am. Except for this one. This Sunday morning, the little bell rang at 8.30am.

Lily started as a tall young man with impossibly messy black hair and glasses came into her cafe. He hadn't exactly ran in the door but the way in which he arrived made her think he had been running. The man shut the door behind him and eyed the shop front for a few seconds, seemingly completely oblivious to Lily's presence as she leant against the counter.

"Hi," she said in what she hoped was a friendly manner although it was more to get his attention than anything else.

The man span around on his heel, eyes wide at first as though she had scared him and then calmer almost instantly as he finally took her in.

"Hello," he replied, giving her a half-hearted smile. And then a long pause whilst he just looked at her expectantly. What he was expecting Lily to do, she wasn't in the slightest aware.

He finally spoke again after Lily was silent, "Are you open? I can leave if not."

"Yes, we're open," Lily informed him, watching him closely as he took in the cafe. "Sit in or take-away?"

"Sitting in, please," he said a little unsurely, lowering himself into the seat beside her counter and facing the door of the shop.

"What can I get you?" she asked, as her customer finally looked back at her again.

The man looked around a bit helplessly - Lily wondered if he was searching for a menu - before addressing her again. "Um....a coffee and....and whatever you'd recommend."

"Well, I have a few discounted pastries, they're still pretty good from yesterday and some fresh doughnuts," Lily replied. "Jam, chocolate, hazelnut and a new lemon meringue recipe I'm trying out. You can taste test if you'd like," she joked lightly, trying to get rid of whatever nervous energy had infiltrated her shop along with this man.

"Sounds great," he said, checking over his shoulder to look into the back area of the cafe. "Thank you."

Lily moved behind the counter again, still watching the man out of the corner of her eye as she worked. She removed the doughnut from the cabinet and plated it up before getting to work on the coffee. He hadn't asked for anything specifically so she just stuck with a plain black coffee. On the table there was a little booklet detailing the types of beans and tea she offered but, given his demeanour, Lily didn't bother suggesting it to him.

As she put the order together, Lily observed the man just sitting at the table. He seemed somewhat more relaxed than he had been - he had settled a little more into the chair - but he was still oddly upright. He was also just sitting in his chair...it was only odd to Lily because she knew that most people would be on their mobile phone straight away. But he just sat there, looking into space until she approached with his coffee and doughnut.

"Here we are," Lily announced pleasantly, setting the tray down and lifting the coffee, milk and plate off for him. "Enjoy. Let me know what you think of the lemon meringue."

"Thank you, I will," he said blandly, not really looking at her.

Lily retreated back to her counter and cleaned up the little mess she had made. She then resumed putting out the rest of the morning's pastries. When she had finished tidying she thought she might wipe down the tables in the back one more time, until her eyes fell on her customer again.

He was eating at least, if slowly. He had eaten some of the doughnut and drank some of the coffee. But he was still sitting there basically motionless apart from the odd fidget with his fingers.

"Can I get you a book?" Lily asked, grabbing his attention. "We have lots in the back so if there's something you'd like..."

"Yes, that'd would be nice," he replied evenly, now looking at her again but this time she knew he was studying her. Again, with that same strange intensity that made her feel like he was expecting her to do something.

"Okay," Lily said, as he trailed off. She moved towards the back of the shop. He hadn't asked for anything in particular so she brought him The Count of Monte Cristo. It was a favourite of hers and a book she had never heard anyone raise any serious objections to. "Here," she said, setting the book down on the corner of the table.

The man took in the book and then looked up at her. "Brilliant choice," he said gently, taking it from the table and then starting to read.

Satisfied, Lily went back to the counter and pottered around, fixing little bits and pieces that didn't require much effort. They passed an hour this way and without much conversation at all.

Suddenly, as Lily noticed it had gone 9.45am, her customer stood up and dawdled over to the counter.

"The doughnut was delicious," he said congenially, as she processed his receipt.

"Not too tangy?"

"Yes, but I liked it," he went on, smiling a bit now. "A little bit of sweetness in the meringue but sharp everywhere else."

Inwardly pleased but not in any way trying to conceal it, Lily watched as he pulled out a card from his back pocket, although no wallet.

"This is a lovely cafe," he closed, replacing the card in his pocket after he had paid and moved towards the door.

Lily was about to say thanks when she remembered she was running a business.

"Wait!" she called, stalling him at the door. Running to him quickly, she presented him with a small loyalty card, pre-stamped with one dot. "For your next visit."

He took the card from her and looked at it intently.

An awkward silence settled before he looked at her again, "are you Lily?"

Lily nodded, "yes."

He gazed at her intently for a few moments, almost appearing as though he was about to say something to her. After a moment, he obviously decided against it and exited the shop with a small smile.

Lily stared at the door for a few moments, wondering what had just happened and why. She didn't linger much longer however, putting it out of her mind and continuing with work.

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

Lily didn't expect to see her oddest customer to date again and had altogether forgotten his visit completely by the time the next Sunday rolled around. She was hunched down, arranging food in the glass cabinet, when the bell rang at 8.30am.

"Hello," Lily sang from the floor, standing up with a tray of pastries in her hand, however she was so transfixed by the appearance of the man with the messy black hair that she hit the tray off the counter and threw the pastries everywhere. "Shit, sorry," she said wearily, feeling her cheeks grow red as she stared down at the pastry coated floor.

She looked back up, expecting to see the usual strange look on his face, only to find that he had his head towards the floor, hand over his mouth and shoulders shaking in barely controlled laughter.

"Sorry," he managed through his hilarity, when he saw she was looking at him with a mixture of shock and indignation. "That was excellent." And with that, he didn't bother holding back his laughter anymore.

Lily didn't think yelling at a possible repeat customer was in the textbook she had bought on good customer service but she was seriously considering it at the moment. Ignoring the urge, instead, she got down onto the floor and started to gather the ruined goods back onto the tray.

She was so engrossed in keeping her temper under control that she jumped again to find that her customer had followed her onto the floor.

"Sorry," he said again, this time more seriously though he cheeks were still tinged with red. "I didn't mean to scare you," he added, now picking up bits of pastry and shoving them onto the tray. "I can pay for these."

"No need," Lily replied, finding her anger lessened by the sight of him on the floor helping her. "You just..."

"You weren't expecting me back," he suggested softly, eyes still diverted to the pastries. "I can understand that," he went on lightly, "I should also apologise for being so...."

"Strange?" Lily interjected, causing him to look up and smile at her.

He nodded, "yes, 'strange', the last time. I'm not usually strange, I promise."

"That's okay," she reassured, standing up and brushing the pastry crumbs off her tights and onto the tray as he followed suit. "It wasn't 'bad' strange...just 'odd'."

He smiled again, this time a lopsided grin that caused Lily to consider how good-looking he was for the first occasion. His behaviour previously had been so out of the ordinary that she hadn't a chance to properly look at him. But now that she did, she found that he was rather beautiful. A face she could picture photographing well - all angles and bone but then soft and sparkling in his eyes. His smile lit up his face with colour and mischief and caused her to smile as well.

"Well, I'll try to avoid that again," he promised, "I'm James, by the way," he said and assuredly put out his hand for her to shake.

She took his hand and was about to re-introduce herself when she recognised that same intense, expectant look taking over his eyes as he gazed at her waiting for her response.

Lily slowed the handshake considerably, "you're doing it again."

"What?" he asked, snapping back to normal, his eyes now clear.

"Giving me that look," she advised steadily, withdrawing her hand. "Like you're waiting for me to say something and I have no idea what."

James looked at her a little guiltily, "Yes, sorry...again," he said, clenching his hands. "I honestly don't mean to do that. I'm going to stop," he assured her, although he didn't look as though he believed himself. "I'm going to try to stop," he corrected.

"Okay," Lily replied hesitantly, taking a moment to look him over. "What are you expecting me to say?" she couldn't help ask.

The question clearly caused James some amount of discomfort as his face went paler and he was no longer meeting her eye. "I...uh...I...."

"You know what?" Lily interrupted, deciding against an awkward conversation. "I don't need to know. What would you like?"

James seemed surprised, if not instantly relieved by her change of heart.

"A coffee, please," he confirmed, placing himself into the seat by the counter and still looking at her as though he expected her to question him again. "And another doughnut...if I didn't destroy them all."

Lily laughed lightly, "no, that was just yesterday's pastries." She moved to the coffee machine. "Any particular kind of doughnut?"

"What do you have today?"

"The usual strawberry, chocolate and hazelnut, lemon meringue and this week's experiment: raspberry and white choc..."

Lily trailed off to peer over her shoulder as at the word 'raspberry', James had made a little noise.

"You like raspberries?" she queried teasingly, looking at his wide eyes and screwed-up mouth.

"Not that it matters but fresh raspberries or raspberry jam?" he asked, not in any way able to hide the excitement simmering under the surface.

Wanting to enjoy his reaction, Lily turned around and leant against the counter.

"Both," she answered shortly.

James let out a long breath, "oh my God," he hummed, standing up and striding round to the front of the cabinet quickly. He hunkered down in front of it and gazed into the cabinet like a child in front of a sweet shop. "Is it going to ruin your business if I buy all of these?" he asked, as Lily came over to the cabinet and bent over the top to look down at him.

"No," she replied, "although will you eat six of them here or shall I pack some to go?"

Looking up at her, he grinned happily, again causing Lily to inwardly observe how handsome he was. "Two here, the rest to go," he instructed efficiently, making his way back to the table.

Plating up two of the doughnuts, (filled with raspberry jam, iced with white chocolate and topped with raspberries and shaved chocolate), Lily brought them to James. She felt very satisfied when he literally licked his lips at the sight of them.

Expecting him to devour them, Lily moved back to the coffee machine although James continued to sit and stare at the doughnuts as though they were untouchable.

"Are you going to eat them?" she asked lightly, bringing him his coffee.

"Yes, I was just waiting until everything was here," he replied as though this was obvious. "These are the prettiest doughnuts I have ever seen."

"I hope they taste as good as they look then," Lily added in her best customer service voice, moving back behind the counter and grabbing a dustpan and brush to sweep up the rest of the pastry debris.

She was contentedly sweeping the floor on her knees, when she heard a sound from the table that let her know that James had eaten some of the doughnut. The sound itself caused her to blush and giggle at the same time as it wasn’t exactly innocent.

"Stop laughing at me," James protested with a whine in his voice, sounding very aggrieved. "You can't make doughnuts that taste like that and then laugh at me when I enjoy them."

Lily was just about to stand up and apologise for being such a terrible host when he put his head over the top of the counter and looked down at her.

"I mean, seriously, have you tasted these?" he asked incredulously.

Lily made the mistake of looking up at him. His mouth was completely covered in raspberry jam as he gazed down at her, messy hair all over the place and eyes full of sincerity.

Unable to control herself, she felt the laughter sweep out of her. She started to giggle so hard that her throat started to hurt and tears pooled in her eyes.

"What?" James asked, a little indignantly.

"I'm sorry," she struggled to get out through the laughter and tears, wiping at her face. "You just...," she looked at him again and was struck by another fit." You just..."

"I just what?" he queried, coming around behind the counter to stand over her as she howled from the floor.

"You have..." she breathed, now cackling into her knees. "You have..."

"What?" he asked again, sliding down onto the floor beside her.

"You have jam all over your face," she managed to get out before the laughter overtook her again.

Wiping at his mouth, James looked at the red jelly on his hand and grinned the same lopsided grin as before at her. "Ah," he said, "what a waste," and popped the finger in his mouth.

Feeling up on to the counter for some kitchen roll, Lily just about grabbed the cone and handed it to him, now somewhat less paralysed by laughter.

"I'm sorry," she said a little more steadily, watching as he half-licked, half-wiped the jam off his face.

"Don't be," James replied happily, "you have a lovely laugh."

Suddenly very aware of their close proximity behind the counter, Lily smiled hesitantly before getting to her feet.

“If I continue to eat doughnuts like they’re ambrosia, are you going to keep laughing at me?” James asked, following her lead and returning to the table.

“I promise to keep myself under control,” Lily said, hoping she was being truthful. “Can I get you The Count of Monte Cristo again?”

“I’ll probably get jam all over the pages.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Lily said pleasantly, moving to the back level of the café. “I specifically chose books that could be ruined and replaced easily enough.”

“Thanks,” James said, wiping his hands on a napkin before taking the book off her.

As before, Lily went back behind her counter and busied herself with smaller tasks whilst James read. The cafe remained empty other than James and Lily periodically checked in to offer him more coffee, which he always declined. Again, at 9.45am, James stood.

“It’s always quiet on Sunday mornings?” he asked casually, again bringing out a card from his back pocket.

“Yes,” Lily replied, taking the card and then handing him his take-away doughnuts. “I probably shouldn’t bother opening but I like Sunday mornings here for some reason.”

“It’s peaceful,” James suggested. “Or it probably is when I’m not knocking over pastries and devouring doughnuts.”

Lily laughed lightly, “I’m not going to complain about having a customer who buys doughnuts by the box.”

“Well, good,” he agreed, “and here,” he added, handing her the loyalty card, “I remembered.”

“You get two stamps for all the doughnuts,” Lily said, stamping the card with vigour.

Grinning at her, James swept up the box and moved towards the door. “Bye, Lily,” he called as he left, causing Lily to briefly reflect on how nicely he said her name.

Not taking too long to reflect, Lily got on with clearing the table before the next customer arrived.

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

It was the middle of the next week before James entered Lily’s thoughts again.

She wasn’t in the habit of thinking of him but on Wednesday evening, one of her new customers brought him into her head. It was just after her evening rush, which was when the business crowd exiting work stopped by for a coffee, and she was clearing some of the tables, when the bell rang. Turning on her heel, Lily made her way behind the counter as she observed a tall, thin man in an oversized leather jacket coming towards her. His hair was long and black and fell effortlessly around his face and sunglasses.

Lily had had a few models come into the café - her impression was they liked their coffee strong and extra hot. This man reminded her of a model with his good looks and haughty expression: he lifted his sunglasses off his face and placed them on his head as he surveyed the café briefly – she couldn’t tell if he was pleased with it or not – before his striking eyes fell on her.

“What can I get you?” she asked as nicely as she could, thinking that perhaps the modelling community was small and she didn’t want to get a reputation as an unfriendly place.

The man now did a sweep of her, before leaning casually against the counter. “Double espresso to go,” he ordered, eyes drifting upwards to survey the beans she had listed on the wall. “The French heavy roast.”

Lily moved away to make his order, whilst her customer continued to peer around the café and picked up bits and pieces from the counter to inspect.

“Are you on instagram?” he droned casually, now viewing her loyalty cards. “The café,” he clarified.

“Um….no,” Lily replied, turning around in feigned politeness. Definitely a model.

“Twitter?”

“No,” Lily answered again, now preparing the take away cup.

“Surely you’re on Facebook?”

“Again, no,” she said simply, “I’m not really into social media,” she went on.

The customer nodded, although she could tell he was sceptical.

“You’re not planning to use social media for your business?” he asked, finally turning his attention fully back to her.

“Maybe,” Lily conceded with a smile, keeping her tone light as his was decidedly not. “Once I’ve been open a while longer…and figure out how they all work.”

She passed him the coffee and he tapped his phone against the contactless reader.

“Ever have anyone famous in here?” he asked, taking the cup but when he looked up at her, the look he gave her brought James sweeping back into her mind. It was the same look. The same expectant, intense gaze that caused her to lose her composure and blanche somewhat.

“No,” she retorted, almost rudely, wondering why he was asking and still half-thinking of James.

The gaze faded away quickly. He smiled, sighed and gave her a wink.

“You have now,” he quipped, replacing his sunglasses with a flourish and sauntering to the door as Lily watched him the whole way.

“Maybe a musician,” Lily revised to herself as he let the shop door swing shut.

“You have a lot of different tea varieties,” James observed the next Sunday whilst Lily was making his coffee. She turned around to see him inspecting the small menu intently.

“There are lots of different kinds of tea,” she replied with a shrug. “And buyers kept offering me different varieties to taste and I sort of got carried away.”

He laughed a little, “what’s your favourite flavour?”

“The jasmine silver tip,” Lily answered, “it’s a white tea but unlike most jasmine teas that only smell amazing but taste of nothing, this one actually has a flavour.”

“I feel like I’m going to have to find my favourite flavour of tea in order to continue coming here,” he joked, replacing the menu.

“Boring old black coffee is a fine order,” Lily ribbed, bringing him his usual along with another raspberry doughnut.

James looked down at the doughnut for a moment and then back at her.

“You usually make a new flavour every week, right?”

“Yup,” Lily said.

“But…you made raspberry and white chocolate again this week?”

“Yes,” she said again, knowing his next question before he asked it, smiling a little all the same.

“Did you…” he hesitated a little, “…sorry if this sounds pompous but did you make the raspberry ones again…”

“Just for you?” she filled in wryly when he trailed off again.

“Eh, yeah,” James confirmed, with an awkward ruffle of his hair.

Somewhat shyly but with a little pride that she couldn’t help, Lily nodded slowly and moved back behind the counter. “You liked them so much the last time and raspberries are in season so…”

It was her turn to trail off and she was about to get on with some admin when she looked back at James. He was watching her with a new look that she hadn’t seen on his face before; soft eyes and his mouth crooked up into the merest hint of a smile. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, as he looked away from her quickly.

Swallowing, Lily looked away too, grabbing the pile of receipts and moving into the kitchen. As she settled herself onto her stool, she reminded her skipping heart that fancying a customer probably wasn’t the best plan for lots of reasons, the main one being that she knew nothing about him and he probably had a whole life, including a girlfriend, outside of the hour and a half he spent in her café on a Sunday. It wasn’t possible for someone to look like that and not have a girlfriend, she thought a little miserably as she sorted through the small sheets of paper. Suddenly, already sick of the receipts, Lily grabbed her phone and texted Mary.

Remind me why sleeping with customers would be a bad idea? she typed out quickly, before throwing the phone down again, not expecting a response. Mary was American and lived in Pennsylvania, so their friendship was sustained by somewhat regular FaceTiming and periodic text messages whilst at least one of them was asleep. Occasionally, they wrote each other letters to try and mimic Jane Austen heroines but life generally got in the way of that. Every so often, Mary would come visit her and they’d aim to sort each other’s lives out over their week together. When her father had passed away, Mary’s insistent presence in her apartment was what kept Lily going. She hadn’t realised it at the time but without her, she wasn’t sure the café would ever have opened.

Letting that thought go and taking one last moment to internally hate James’s girlfriend, Lily started on the receipts and worked steadily. When she next looked up to check her phone for a response, she noticed it was approaching 9.45am and moved back to the front of the shop to take James’s payment.

“I’m starting to feel very predictable,” he said at the sight of her, standing up, still holding onto his usual book.

“Oh?”

“Yes, mainly the book being on the table before I got here,” James went on, approaching the counter.

Choosing not to say anything, Lily simply smiled and went about processing the payment.

“Is your boyfriend a big fan of your doughnuts?”

Not quite believing that she had heard him correctly, Lily’s eyes snapped upwards. James was looking at the counter and fidgeting a bit. Lily wasn’t a serial dater by any means but she’d seen enough romcoms to know there was only one reason anyone asked that question.

“My boyfriend?” she let out.

“Eh, yeah,” he confirmed, gesturing to the shelf behind her, still filled with cards and one, in particular, that was shaped like a giant red heart.

“Oh,” Lily laughed slightly, “that’s…that’s not from a boyfriend. That’s from my friend, Mary. We…we’re weird like that,” she managed with an awkward laugh.

“Oh,” he repeated, handing her his debit and loyalty cards.

Lily couldn’t tell whether this information made him happy or not as his face remained impassively blank.

She handed him back the cards and watched as he walked towards the door. She couldn’t understand it: wasn’t this the part where he was supposed to ask her on a date?

“James,” she called out, stopping him as he reached the door. He looked at her expectantly.

“I’m…I’m sort of having a…a restaurant night.”

“A restaurant night?”

“Yeah, a night where I cook a full dinner. I’m thinking of doing it once a month and this is a test run,” she told him. “It’s this Friday night and it’s mostly just friends coming but, if you could make it…”

His face lit up and, at least this time, she could tell he was genuinely pleased.

“You want me to come?” he asked, sounding surprised and delighted.

“Well, you’re my best customer,” Lily joked. “And it’d be nice to have someone there who’ll tell me the truth and not just say everything’s great like my friends will.”

“I’d love to,” James said honestly and Lily’s stomach twisted again, now knowing she was fighting a losing battle against liking him.

“Great,” she replied, still feeling very stupid. “It’ll start at 7.30 but you can show up anytime. It’s bring your own,” she told him.

“Okay,” he said, “I might be a little late but I’ll definitely come.”

Knowing she was smiling ridiculously but completely unable to help it, Lily watched as he left with a spring in his step. The only problem now was going to be attempting to look half-decent whilst cooking for 30 people.

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

As it turned out, James didn’t show up that Friday night. If she thought about it too long, she had to admit it did cause a sting of embarrassment that he didn’t come, but with her café full of her close friends and their friends and other halves, Lily soon forgot.

She’d asked Emmeline to give her a hand as a waitress for the night and that had allowed her to cook without too much distraction. As the clock had struck midnight, Emmeline had ordered them all out, knowing that Lily had to get up to open the café again that morning.

As the last of her customers filtered out of the café, complimenting her all the way, Lily smiled tiredly with pride. The tables were covered with dirty plates, cushions everywhere and the smell of wine hung in the air but she had managed it. She had managed to serve them all; no one had complained, all the plates were clear and the café had buzzed with laughter and conversation all evening. Still looking over the café, she thought that, maybe, she could do this once a month, if Emmeline could continue to help her out.

Not letting her eyes drift to the table she had unconsciously named ‘James’s table’, Lily heard her phone ringing from back in the kitchen and knew it was probably Mary calling to ask how it went. She was wandering back to answer the phone, when behind her, the bell rang.

Lily turned around to see James land into the café, breathless and red cheeked – this time he had definitely been running.

“Hi,” he breathed heavily, looking at her with what she recognised as guilt. “I know I’m incredibly late. I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Lily replied, still taking him in. “You clearly had somewhere much more important to be,” she added teasingly, looking over her customer who had arrived into the café dressed in a full tuxedo.

“Yes,” he agreed and then, “I mean no! I had this thing that I had to be at and I couldn’t get away and I kept trying to leave but…”

“James, it’s fine,” she cut in reassuringly, “I was only joking. Are you hungry? I still have some food if you’d…”

“Yes, please,” he groaned happily, “all the food at this thing was tiny. Tiny quiches and tiny asparagus and you can never eat more than a few or everyone notices and then you seem greedy. No one ever eats more than a few bites in case they burst out of their ballgowns,” he complained, moving to his usual seat. “I’m starving,” he finished, throwing himself into the chair.

“Well, I left my ballgown at home, but I can put on some ermine and pearls if you give me a few minutes,” Lily called from the kitchen, grabbing a plate of still warm food.

“Har har,” he answered sarcastically, though she spied him smiling when she came back into room.

“It’s not plated in the most elegant manner but…” Lily began to explain guiltily, arriving before him.

“Lily,” he cut in knowingly, “was this supposed to be your dinner?”

“Not at all,” she lied, setting the plate down in front of James. “I was just…”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “And you’re not giving me your food. Not after you’ve worked all night – you’re probably dead on your feet.”

“Technically, this was supposed to be your dinner, but I decided to eat it when I thought you weren’t coming,” she explained, “so, if you think about it, this food is actually rightfully yours.”

James considered for a moment. “Eat with me,” he said finally, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

“James, I’m the owner, I’m not…”

“Yes, you are,” he ruled, standing and taking the plate with him as he disappeared behind the counter and into the kitchen.

“I have a ‘no customers in the kitchen’ rule, you know,” Lily called after him, listening as he made a lot of noise opening and closing cupboards.

“I have it on good authority that doesn’t apply to your best customer,” he grinned, returning with two plates and the food equally divided between both. He placed the plates down on the table and seated himself. “Lily, please,” he said, again nodding to the seat in front of him.

Relenting at his persistence, Lily sat opposite him and tried to direct her mind away from thoughts of how good he looked and how undoubtedly sweaty, frizzy-haired and manic she did. If he had shown up four hours ago, she would have looked somewhat presentable.

She’d chosen a simple red dress to wear – one she knew she could get a few stains on when cooking – thinking that at least when he arrived she’d look good.

“Are you alright?” he asked, obviously sensing her discomfort.

Lily paused thinking of how best to explain. “I’m feeling very underdressed at this table,” she said after a while, hoping she managed to sound like she was joking a little.

“Oh,” James replied, “okay, I can fix that,” he went on, clearly not hearing the joke as he stood, shrugged off his jacket, undid his bow tie and opened the first couple of buttons on his shirt. “How’s that?” he asked, sitting down again.

Lily laughed at the irony and misfortune of her situation. In trying to make himself less formal, James had somehow managed to turn himself into a GQ cover contender. Now that she looked at him, Lily couldn’t stop her mind from appreciating how handsome he was. In fact, had she been feeling a little more confident about herself, she might have jumped him then and there.

“That’s not exactly…” she started, before deciding to just be truthful. “You look like a bloody movie star and I’ve got coconut milk stains all over me,” she joked bashfully, feeling worse when he didn’t smile. “That’s all I meant.”

She watched as the same lovely look as before came over James’s face: his mouth slightly turned upwards in a half-smile.

“I can’t see any stains,” he replied, eyes soft and appreciative, and as before Lily’s heart skipped.

Just as her heart started to hammer against her chest, Lily changed the subject. “I think Dorcas left some wine around here…” she announced, craning around James to look into the back restaurant.

“No need,” he interrupted cheerfully, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a quarter bottle of champagne. “I grabbed this before I left.”

Lily couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. He was in the process of opening it when she caught sight of the label on the bottle.

“That must’ve been quite the event,” she said, nodding her head towards the bottle when he looked at her quizzically. When he didn’t answer, she pressed further, “what was it for?”

“Some movie thing,” he replied, pouring champagne into her glass as Lily noted that the champagne may have cost more than the glass. “I was there for a work.”

“You’re not actually a movie star, are you?” she jested, taking a sip afterwards.

“No,” he laughed, “the firm I work for was invited. We do management and things like that. All very boring. What?” he asked, seeing her face scrunch.

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed.

“No, what?” he persisted.

“It turns out even expensive champagne still tastes like washing up liquid,” she relented, hoping she did sound too ungrateful. “Sorry,” she went on, “not my drink.”

“That’s fine,” James chuckled, “it’s definitely no jasmine white tea,” he teased, causing her to simper at him. “So, what do we have here?” he asked, looking down at the plate.

“Well, we have what should have been a couple of separate dishes that I just mashed onto the plate together,” Lily told him reluctantly. “But you look like you have hake in coconut sauce, cod with mozzarella, tomatoes and basil and various bits of potatoes and salads. Oh, and some regular sized asparagus with mint.”

“Excellent,” James grinned, beginning to tuck in. “And food all mashed together is my preferred method of dining. Has been since I was born.”

They chatted for the rest of their meal, which Lily had to admit was odd if acceptable. James was full of questions as to how the evening had went and laughed through all her stories about how many mistakes she’d made and how she’d probably given everyone food poisoning. They were still talking, showing no signs of slowing down, when a small beeping rang around their table. It turned out to be an alarm on James’s watch.

“It’s 2am,” he said, turning the alarm off. “I should probably get going.”

“That’s fair enough,” she said, standing as he did. “If you don’t come in on Sunday, can you at least call to let me know you’re still alive and not dying of salmonella?”

“Lily, the food was amazing,” James replied earnestly, “not quite your raspberry doughnuts but pretty close.”

“Thank you,” Lily smiled, then starting to shake her head when she saw him take out his debit card as usual. “James, there is no way you are paying for that meal!”

“Why not?” he objected as emphatically.

“Because it was leftovers presented like a dog’s dinner! I will cut your card in half before I let you pay.”

James seemed to take a moment to assess her determination before relenting and putting his card away.

Lily cleared the plates away to the kitchen whilst James put on his jacket again.

“I was in Scotland this week…for work,” he told her abruptly as she returned to the counter.

“I saw this and well, it made me think of you,” he said, taking a small round and white jar out of his jacket pocket, before handing it to her. Lily read the label: Dalreoch Scottish Smoked White Tea above which stood a proud stag. “I wanted to get you something to say congratulations on your first restaurant night,” he added, whilst she looked at the jar. “I don’t think that’s on your menu.”

“It isn’t,” Lily said softly, knowing inwardly that she didn’t buy it because it was too expensive to bulk buy. “You bought this for me?” she asked, in somewhat of a disbelief, looking up at him.

James nodded, “what’s the point of knowing a tea obsessive if you can’t buy her rare tea’s when you get the chance?” he joked quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She reacted with a small laugh of her own but was too busy processing what she had decided to do the moment he had handed her the tea.

With a brief smile, James walked towards the door and Lily followed.

“James,” she murmured, causing him to stop and turn around. “Thank you,” she said, moving in closer to him. When he didn’t move away from her, she tilted her head upwards, pressing her lips to his lightly. She didn’t kiss him long, pulling away soon after to make sure she hadn’t embarrassed herself.

James’s eyes opened slowly and he swallowed. He hadn’t moved at all as she kissed him, hadn’t reacted at all and Lily winced to see the look he was now unmistakably giving her: one of disappointment.

Without a further word, he exited the café, door swinging shut behind him.

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

Seven weeks went by during which Lily heard and saw nothing of James.

Immediately after she had kissed him, Lily was swamped with a cold feeling of regret and panic hoping she hadn’t offended him. He was her customer: she wasn’t supposed to be kissing him.

Her group chats with Emmeline, Mary and Dorcas were filled with their reassurances that, although he could report her to the police for kissing him, she probably wouldn’t go to jail for it. Mary had also promised to defend her in court if she was being charged by the time of her next visit in a few weeks.

When the first Sunday morning came around and he didn’t appear, Lily spent the time miserably cursing her own idiocy and promising never to be so stupid again. She repeated this pattern for the next few Sunday’s, still disappointed each time when he was nowhere to be seen.

After a month and a half passed, Lily had managed to put the incident out of her head… a bit. If she thought of it, she cringed to remember his face after she’d kissed him but apart from that, she could get on with her Sunday morning’s without too many thoughts of him.

Two months later, she was closing up the café on a Friday night, sweeping behind the counter and putting away the pastries when she received a set back in letting it go.

The bell rang.

Her stomach jumped furiously as James appeared in her café again and she couldn’t help but ramble from the moment turned around.

“James,” she let out at the sight of him, “I am so sorry about…” she started, not paying any attention to how he was striding towards her, “…I’ve been wanting to apologise for ages… I was so inappropriate the last time and…”

By the time Lily realised James was moving towards her, he had her in his grasp. The look in his eyes silenced her completely.

This time, Lily’s eyes fluttered closed as his lips lowered to hers and his arms pulled her upwards to meet him. His hands roving through her hair, Lily looped her arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, body shivering with the scent of him. James kissed her hard for what felt like forever, suddenly pulling away in a rush of hot air that warmed Lily all over.

“Don’t apologise,” he said seriously, lips still lightly peppering over hers, hands still holding onto her firmly. “I’m sorry. For leaving like that.”

She wanted to reassure him but found it impossible to do without asking him all the questions that had been swimming in her head for weeks.

“Why did you?” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“Because I’m ridiculous,” he answered gruffly, taking another moment to kiss her again. “I’ve been wanting you from the moment I walked in here,” he went on, “I’ve tried to stop thinking about you, to stop this from happening but I keep coming here, I keep doing everything I can to get your attention and I’m so ridiculous, trying to stop myself falling for you when I refuse to stop seeing you.”

Lily tried to take this all in. “Why do you want to stop yourself?” she asked, suddenly scared to hear his answer.

“I don’t….,” he started weakly, “…I can’t…I can’t date, Lily,” he finally told her, still holding onto her tightly. “I should be stopping myself because I can’t be in a normal relationship and this isn’t going to be fair on you.”

“I don’t understand,” she replied.

“My job stops me from dating…from being in a normal relationship,” he went on, hands rubbing at her sides. “I can’t tell you what I do either and this…being with me…well it wouldn’t be easy.”

Lily tried to take this all in.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to be with someone like that,” James continued when she was still quiet. “Few sensible people would want to be. But I couldn’t not see you again and leave you thinking you’d done something wrong.”

At this, he let go of her and moved away to lean against the counter, eyes still watching her all the time.

“Can I ask you a question?” she eventually said, already missing being in his arms but knowing she had to resist for at least a while. James nodded. “Would it always have to be like that?”

His forehead crinkled suggesting to her that he didn’t understand the question.

“If…if we were together…for a long time, would it always be like that? Would you never be able to tell me what it is you do?”

“That wouldn’t be possible either,” James conceded with a small smile, “if you wanted to be with me, eventually I’d tell you everything. But, at the moment…at the moment that’s not possible.”

“Because?”

He sighed deeply, “I can’t tell you that either. There is nothing about being with me that would be normal. I could take you on dates in your café. I don’t have a phone number to give you. I could see you once a week, probably always at the same time. There would be weeks, maybe months at a time when I couldn’t see you or even talk to you.”

Lily continued to watch him as he talked and wondered if she was mad for not being more hesitant or put off by what he saying. She was never a pathetic girl that fell for anyone who gave her some attention. She was and always had been happy single. For the past few years of her life, her café had been the only thing that had occupied her mind and she hadn’t looked twice at any guy. But, for whatever reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about this one.

“You’re smiling,” he told her a little oddly, sounding amazed at the fact but not unhappy.

“I am,” she admitted, “you’re going to think I’m crazy. I think I’m probably crazy. I should care about everything you just said…but I don’t. I just want to…”

Lily was cut off as James started to kiss her again. He kissed her until all further questions went flying out of her head. He kissed her until she didn’t care about anything but the way he murmured her name.

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

It was 9.40am on a Sunday morning and for once, Lily’s café was closed.

“You know, when I put this bench in, I never thought I’d have sex on it,” Lily mused, half-wondering if she was squashing James as she lay on top of him. The thought quickly disappeared as his hands ghosted up and down her bare frame.

“You know, the first time I saw you, all I thought about was having sex on this bench,” he replied lightly, nipping at her neck as she pinched him on his thigh.

“And here I was naively thinking you kept coming back because you liked my baking,” she fake-huffed as James grinned.

“Your baking and your butt,” he teased, yelping when she pinched him again.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable like this?” Lily asked, changing the subject and wriggling about a bit, noticing that his whole left shoulder was hanging over the edge of the bench.

“Don’t you dare move,” he chastised, locking his arms around her waist. “This is the most comfortable I’ve been all week,” he added, reaching upwards to kiss her. “In fact, this is all I’ve thought about all week.”

“Me too,” Lily replied against his lips. “You’re very distracting. I can’t even look at raspberries now.”

Laughing into her mouth, James kissed her again. “Good,” he replied firmly, “I hope they’re all you bake with then.”

Knowing she would regret what she was about to say, Lily spoke anyways, “it’s getting late,” she said quietly, nudging her nose against his.

“Yeah,” James agreed, sounding reluctant and sitting up a little, causing her to do the same. “I mentioned last week…”

“That you’d be gone for a while after this,” Lily cut in quietly. “I remember.”

“Around four or five weeks,” he continued apologetically.

“Somewhere fun?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Nowhere near as fun as being here with you.”

“James, it’s okay,” Lily told him, unconsciously scanned the floor for her underwear. “You said it would be like this. It’s fine. Mary is coming for a bit during that time, so I’ll have lots of company. Five weeks isn’t that long.”

“It’s as long as we’ve been doing this,” he returned lowly, hand coming to rest on her thigh. “I’m going to miss you.”

She couldn’t help but kiss him again. “I’ll miss you too.”

He seemed to accept this and started to look for his clothes.

“Hang on,” she started, “I’ve figured out who you are!”

James turned around, seeming a little surprised.

“Your second name isn’t Bond is it?”

Rolling his eyes, James tackled her into the seat.

“Bond, James Bond, with an unsuspecting café owner in every city,” Lily went on playfully, shrieking with laughter when he started to tickle her.

“Bond, James Bond, with one café owner who is going to all he thinks about for the next month,” James corrected softly, after he had finished tickling her. “There are no other café owners, Lily,” he went on, pushing her hair behind her ears.

Smiling softly, Lily handed him his shirt, “get dressed,” she advised, “and I’ll go tell other the other secret agents I’m sleeping with it’s over.”

James left a little late that morning, choosing to spend the extra time tickling her instead.

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

Mary appeared in a whirl of enthusiasm and franticness four weeks later, showering Lily with hugs and kisses. She was also delighted to see Lily’s café and to marvel over the place she had heard so much about in real life.

Lily was more than happy to update Mary on all the dramas and successes of her first business but she decided to leave out the biggest development in her life. She wasn’t really sure how to tell people about James and more than anything, knew that there would be a flurry of questions about him and why he was so secretive, especially from Mary. Lily wasn’t prepared to deal with those questions yet – either in her head or to anyone else – and so hadn’t brought the subject up.

Unfortunately, that meant Mary hadn’t plenty of silence to fill with her own plans.

“Pleaseeeeee,” she pleaded, running after Lily around the café as she cleared up. “I’ve never been and I’m only here for a week!”

“I’ve never been and I’ve lived here my whole life!” Lily retorted, sweeping up plates and cups as she went. “No one who lives here actually bothers to go.”

“But it’s Buckingham Palace!” Mary persisted emphatically, “your head of State lives there. It has so much historical importance. How can you never have been?”

“My parents weren’t really into that stuff,” Lily shrugged, coming to rest against the counter. “Some people are, some aren’t.”

“Well, I am,” Mary replied, “and you said we could do tourist-y stuff this time, so you have to take me!”

Never one to be denied, Lily of course, took Mary to Buckingham Palace three days later.

The queues weren’t as bad as Lily had been anticipating and she had to admit, it was interesting to see inside the place, although she knew next to nothing about the Royal Family. She just barely remembered the King dying a little over a year ago. Mainly because she was dealing with the death of her own father and everything was a little fuzzy from that time.

“It’s so beautiful,” Mary marvelled, as they walked around slowly after the tour guide. “I can’t believe we can actually come in here.”

“Me neither,” Lily whispered, taking in the very fancy furniture and making a mental note to stay away from it, “we should leave soon before I break anything.”

“…and here we have the newest addition to the Palace’s gallery,” Lily could hear the tour guide in the distance, “a portrait of His Majesty shortly after his coronation. I’m sure you’ll agree it’s an excellent likeness.”

“Your King is hot,” Mary whispered in Lily’s ear as she was admiring the view out of the windows onto Buckingham Palace Road, not looking at any of the portraits which in Lily’s opinion all looked the same.

“Hmm?” Lily let out, still not paying much attention.

“The new King,” Mary explained, grabbing Lily by the elbow, insisting she turn, “he’s super hot.”

Giving in and turning around to see the portrait, the noise around Lily completely exited the room as she found she couldn’t hear. In the ensuing quiet, all she could hear was her own rapid heartbeat and air being sucked out of her lungs. Looking up at the painting, the bottom dropped out of her stomach as she found a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring back at her.

“…Lil…Lil,” she was suddenly jolted back to consciousness again by Mary’s voice in her ear.

“His Majesty, in a somewhat unusual move, did not take a new name upon his coronation, instead choosing to retain his Christian name. He was therefore crowned King James III.”

“Lily, are you alright?” She heard Mary’s voice echo from around her.

“I…I can’t….I can’t breathe,” Lily managed, holding onto Mary’s arm, unable to remove her eyes from the portrait. Very aware that she was starting to hyperventilate, Lily could do nothing to stop Mary from making a scene and gesturing for help to the tour guide. She also could do nothing to stop the need to sit down as her knees reached the floor. Very aware that people were suddenly crowding around her, Lily tried to get a grip on herself but was unable to think properly or see past anything other than the portrait of the man who had been naked in her café four weeks ago.

“Lily,” said a different voice and Lily looked up to see a man with sandy brown hair and green eyes staring down at her, “would you like some water?” he asked patiently, but with the air of a man trying to avoid a scene.

“Mr Lupin, there’s no need for you to…I have called first aid,” Lily heard another woman say from above her.

“It’s fine, Patricia,” the man replied evenly, “I can take her to first aid, I was going that way myself. Can you stand?” He asked Lily.

“I’ll help,” Mary said, putting her arms under Lily’s elbows and lifting her upwards.

“Follow me please,” she heard the man say to Mary, and Lily felt herself being moved although her mind still felt stuck back at the exact spot she’d fell down.

“You’re white as a sheet,” Mary observed worriedly, “I knew we should have had lunch before we came here.”

The crowds around them were starting to thin as they walked further away from the gallery. Security guards eyed them but one look from Mr Lupin and they were silent.

“Is this the first aid room?” Mary asked, as both women went through a door to what was ostensibly an incredibly lavish room.

“Please take a seat,” Lupin said, gesturing to a plush sofa in the corner of the room and ignoring Mary’s question. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

“This is definitely not a first aid room,” Mary whispered as they watched him leave through a different door than the one they came in. Lily was starting to feel ill as her mind went over all the things that might happen next. “Lil, speak to me, are you okay?”

Lily was about to answer when the door opened again.

“You’re always so dramatic,” she heard a voice say, and then, to her complete surprise, the attractive man with long black hair who had been in Lily’s so long ago and who she had previously thought was a model, stepped through the door. “Oh, shit,” he said, as soon as he laid eyes on her.

Lupin looked somewhat vindicated as the two of them made their way into the room. Lily was suddenly aware that both of these men knew who she was. Lupin, to his credit, had at least returned with water.

“Is she alright?” The black-haired man asked, eyeing Lily nervously though not speaking to her.

“Remus!” A voice came calling through the door. One that Lily recognised and a sound that caused her to feel violently nauseous. The black-haired man also looked panicked although Lupin remained completely unmoved. “Remus, you said we had to leave in ten minutes, you can’t just…”

James walked in through the door, his eyes landing first on Lupin and the other man and then on Lily. His face remained impassive. He was in full military uniform which wasn’t exactly helping Lily to cope with the shock of seeing him in person.

“Oh my God,” Mary breathed, shooting to her feet and tugging at Lily’s arm, trying to get her to stand. “Lily, stand up…”

“There’s no need,” James interjected formally, his expression not changed one iota since seeing Lily. In fact he looked as though he expected her to be there all along. “Is this lady unwell?”

“She was taking the tour when she became unwell in the portrait gallery, Your Majesty,” Lupin clarified, his voice not without meaning. “I brought her here as it was closer than first aid.”

James looked over the scene for a moment, still remaining completely unmoved.

“Very well,” he said finally, with a nod to Lupin. “Proceed as you think best,” he finished before turning to exit the room. “Sirius,” he called after him, to which the man with black hair rolled his eyes and sauntered off as well.

Unable to process anything, Lily barely balked at the fact that James had just left, instead taking all her mental energy to drink the water Lupin had handed her.

“That was the King, right?” Mary said to Lupin, arm still around Lily.

“Yes, that is the King,” he replied meaningfully, and Lily could tell he was looking at her although she wasn’t looking at him.

“Wow,” Mary whispered, turning to Lily, “I know you’re not well but in a few hours we are definitely freaking out about how we met the King!”

“How are you feeling Lily?” Lupin asked, seeming very tall and intimidating to Lily although she was sure that he wasn’t really.

Lily decided not to speak, nodding only before continuing to drink.

“M’am,” he started to Mary, “because she has been unwell in the Palace there will be some forms to fill out. Would you mind going back to the Gallery and starting to fill them in? One of the paramedics should be here soon.”

“Of course,” Mary replied pleasantly, “you don’t mind if I go do you, Lil?” Lily shook her head.

“Paul will escort you back,” Lupin informed them, gesturing to one of the attendants at the door.

“Keep drinking,” Mary advised, pressing a quick kiss to Lily’s forehead, “I’ll be back soon,” she finished, following the attendant out of the room.

The room was now completely empty save for Lily and Lupin.

“I am Remus Lupin,” he finally introduced himself, “His Majesty’s private secretary.”

“Lily Evans,” Lily managed awkwardly, feeling very alert all of a sudden.

“I know who you are,” Lupin replied, somehow sounding warm and stern all at the same time.

Lily nodded, taking this in.

“You make excellent doughnuts,” he added with a wry smile, causing Lily to stare at him. “You’ve also made life very difficult recently,” he went on, “the King falling for a commoner in a coffee shop isn’t exactly something most private secretaries have had to deal with in the past. There’s very little protocol for this.”

“I own my shop,” Lily inserted, sounding stronger than she felt.

“Quite,” Remus noted, not sounding as though he cared in the slightest. “But do you know that your shop has had security protection from the moment His Majesty took home those box of doughnuts? I don’t think there’s another shop in Knightsbridge with that level of security.”

“The man…Sirius…is that who?”

“No,” he cut in with a light laugh, “Sirius went to your café of his own volition to make sure you weren’t some honey pot set up by The Sun or a foreign government. ‘Completely clueless,’ was his assessment.”

Taking another sip of water, Lily processed all of this, still too dazed to feel insulted as she should have.

“You don’t like me, do you?” She asked him directly, not really needing to hear his answer.

Lupin sighed and walked in front of her.

“His Majesty has been King for 9 months. In that time, he has carried out a partial tour of the Commonwealth, opened the new Scottish Parliament Building, attended several Royal Society events and dinners and next month he is to open Parliament at Westminster,” Remus reeled off officially, “and in that time, the matter that I have spent the most time, energy and effort on…is you.”

Lily nodded again, looking up at him.

“As I said, you’ve made life difficult,” he finished, coming to sit down beside her.

After a moment’s silence, Remus spoke again. “In a previous life, before he was King, I was His Majesty’s friend,” he told her matter-of-factly. “In those days, I would have been delighted by how happy you’ve made him.”

At this, Lupin looked somehow younger and nicer and she saw a man who was trying to pull himself upwards into a role he felt unprepared for.

“As it is, debating with the King over whether he can email you from Australia isn’t exactly how I pictured the first year playing out.”

“He couldn’t have written to me?” Lily asked, half-joking.

With the same wry smile, Remus looked at her and shook his head, “he’s on the stamps.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at this but the outburst caused the reality of the situation to come flooding back to her and she took another deep breath.

“Despite the fact that he is supposed to be opening a new ship dedicated to him this evening, I know he will want to see you tonight,” Remus advised grimly. “Will it be possible for you to do so, even though Mary is here?”

“I can slip back to the café after Mary is asleep,” Lily replied a bit croakily.

“12am then,” Lupin agreed, standing up with a sigh. “You can find your way back to the Gallery?” He asked.

Lily nodded.

“Then, Ms Evans, it has been a pleasure,” Remus closed, not really sounding as though he meant it. At that, he shook her hand, nodded and stalked from the room.

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

Lily managed to distract Mary fairly easily later on. It helped that she could be as quiet as she wanted to be and because she was ‘ill’, Mary was happy to let her be. After all the drama of the day, it seemed that Mary was as tired as she was and by 11pm, both of them were heading for bed.

However, as soon as Mary was asleep, Lily found herself wide awake again, knowing the conversation that was about to happen and the questions that were pounding in her head. She took a taxi to her café, and as she got closer, she tried to spot the signs of security surveillance outside but she couldn’t see any. Whoever they had watching the café was very good at their job.

Unlocking the front door and stepping into the darkened room, Lily’s heart started to pound against her chest. She knew that no matter how much processing time she gave herself, she would never be able to reconcile the man she saw in the Palace that afternoon with the man who tickled her until she cried in this shop.

She turned on the small lamp she kept in the corner of the shop and sat down on a stool to wait.

She only had to wait a ten minutes or so before the bell rang.

James entered the shop, still seemingly in the military gear from earlier although he was missing the formal jacket and the braces hung around his hips. Catching sight of her, his eyes gleamed with concern as he made his way towards her.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, stopping before her although she could tell he wanted to touch her.

“Yes,” Lily replied, taking him in in the darkness. Unfairly, his face seemed more handsome than ever, the worry for her in his eyes making him seem as beautiful as she had ever seen. Inside, she felt a sharp stab of pain, knowing that this was probably it. Maybe the last time she’d see him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his head falling towards his shoes. “That must have been horrible today.”

Lily considered this for a moment, “it’s how I always thought the King would be. I just didn’t expect you to be him.”

“In uniform…in public, I am someone else,” he admitted, “I am the Office. I can’t behave how I would want to in private.”

Lily watched him watch her carefully. “I wanted nothing more than to go to you and make sure you were okay. Leaving that room was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do since I was crowned.”

“It’s fine,” she told him evenly, “I don’t imagine many members of the public get the King’s private secretary looking after them.”

James gave her a small smile, confirming her thoughts. “Did he look after you?”

“Yes,” Lily confirmed. “Although, it sounds like I’ve been giving him a bit of a headache recently.”

James’s face changed again, this time looking grave. “I’ve been giving him the headache,” he clarified solemnly, “not you. He shouldn’t have complained to you.”

“He was honest,” Lily asserted, feeling strong for the first time that day. “He didn’t tell me anything that I wouldn’t have worked out by now by myself. How on earth have you been managing this?” She asked, hearing the emotion seep into her voice.

“With help and determination,” he replied plainly, “I refused to stop seeing you. I told Remus that I wasn’t going to so he could either help me or we could see what happened if the press found out on their own.”

“Why?” She finally asked, letting the main question she’d been wondering for the day out.

James raised his eyebrows, “why?”

“Yes, why,” Lily confirmed with force, “why are you doing this?”

He looked at her strangely, “are you asking me why I want to be with you?”

“Yes,” Lily said exasperatedly, “I am asking why, you, The King, are doing this?”

“It’s not the same as it was, Lily,” he replied, the concern now seeping into his voice, “I’m not expected to only date Princesses or Queens.”

“You can’t date,” she retorted.

“No, I can’t.”

“Then, why?” She asked again, now not even trying to hide her frustration.

James looked at her again, seeming to work something out in his head.

“Why do you think I’m doing this?” He queried softly.

Reluctant to let out the thought that had been plaguing her since she saw him this morning, Lily slid off the stool and walked past him, needing to find some distance.

“Because you weren’t expecting to be King at 27,” she let out hurriedly, “because….because..” here Lily stalled.

“…because no one expected my father to die suddenly,” he inserted coldly.

“Yes!” Lily agreed, feeling brutal but knowing it was what she meant. “And…”

“And now I’m running away from this by being with you,” he completed.

“And now you’re running away from this by having it off with some commoner in a café,” she corrected horribly, watching his face turn dark.

He seemed to stop himself from answering her straight away and silence rang around the shop as he watched her closely.

“Did you google those headlines about the incompetent young King or…” he asked finally.

“Mary told me,” Lily replied quietly before he finished the question.

He nodded, taking this in. “I want to be King, Lily,” he said frankly. “I’ve never said that to anyone before,” he noted with mild surprise, “but I do. I’ve been working towards it since they told me I was next in line. Everyone always talked about what a horrible burden it was, being born into it, but I’ve always looked forward to it.” He moved around to the front of the counter, not really looking at her. “I didn’t want it because my dad died in his fifties but here we are.”

His eyes finally drifted upwards to hers and she saw the determination in them. “I’m not running away from this. You’re not my escape.”

“No?”

“No,” he said firmly. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to get to know me without the crown. But I always knew you’d have to meet that part sooner or later. I was just trying to give us more time as two ordinary people.”

“But you can’t date,” Lily let out again, without meaning to.

“No.”

“Then how…how can…”

“I can’t date but I can marry,” James stated calmly, although she heard a slight rattle in the breath he let out after he spoke.

Lily watched his face, so set and steady but those eyes watching her like a hawk, and thought how much it must contrast with her stricken, shocked expression.

“I…I…” Lily started although she didn’t get far.

“It’s not like it used to be,” James repeated softly, “I don’t need to marry for political advantage. I’m the King now so I don’t need my father’s permission. I can marry for love.”

He kept watching her as Lily was torn between going to him for the first time that evening and needing to lie down.

“I’m sorry,” he said after she was quiet for a long time. “I wanted more time before I brought this up.”

“Before you brought up marriage?” Lily queried incredulously, laughing at her own question and causing James to smile.

“I’m told normal people usually know each other for a bit longer before they get married,” he joked, stepping behind the counter to come towards her. “I also wasn’t planning to do it in your café in the dark after midnight,” he said softly, placing his arms around her waist.

“I can’t believe you thought about this at all,” she said, looking up at him, “I was thinking it might be nice if we went to the park in the future.”

James laughed again, pressing his lips against her forehead. “You’re not throwing me out of the shop…that’s a good sign.”

“Because the idea is ridiculous,” Lily replied hastily, regretting it when she saw the hurt in his eyes.

“Marrying me would be ridiculous?”

“James, if I married you, wouldn’t I be…”

“Queen? Yes,” he stated, as though it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world.

“That’s the ridiculous part!” Lily responded vigorously, her mind not able to comprehend the thought of it. “James, I own a shop. My father was a book collector. My sister is a stay-at-home-mum married to a salesman. I’m so far from being royalty that…”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, and she could see the genuineness in his eyes. “And neither would the public. In fact, I think they’d love you.

“You’re not thinking this through,” she pressed ahead weakly, “have you spoken to anyone else about this plan?”

“Remus and Sirius know,” he told her, letting his lips fall to her forehead again.

“And the Queen Mother?”

To his credit, James managed to lessen the uncertainty that initially appeared on his face.

“So, you haven’t told your mother?” Lily queried, remembering the conversation she’d had with Mary earlier that day. The Queen Mother was a formidable woman by all accounts.

“I will,” he promised, ignoring the problem. “She won’t mind, she wasn’t exactly a conventional choice for my father.”

Before she had the chance to answer, he kissed her deeply, unfairly throwing all thoughts and doubt out of her mind.

“Just take some time to think about it,” he whispered against her lips, “Lily…I…I didn’t plan to tell you this here either but…I’m in love with you. Life would change but I would be a good husband to you. I would make you happy.”

Lily couldn’t help but kiss him at this point. She wanted to do this more than worry about what happened next.

“Can you stay?” She asked in between kisses.

Nodding, James lifted her up against the counter, fingers slipped under her skirt and every concern Lily had had flew out of her head.

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

After that night, they had agreed that Lily didn’t have to give James an answer right away. Technically, he hadn’t asked her the question but they decided she’d take some more time to think everything through.

Whilst she was doing this, James continued to come by every Sunday and although she sometimes had questions about his work and life as King, for the most part, everything remained the same between them.

Around a month later, the bell rang on a Sunday morning and Lily was surprised to see that it wasn’t James, but rather an older lady dressed smartly in purple.

She was trying to think of ways in which to get the lady to leave before James arrived when she caught sight of her eyes. The same hazel ones she had been staring into for months.

When she saw that Lily recognised her by the shell-shocked look on her face, the lady spoke, “my son won’t be joining you this morning,” she said plainly, “so I thought I might pay you a visit.”

Gathering herself after the initial shock, Lily bowed awkwardly, “Your Majesty.”

The woman smiled, “please, call me Euphemia.”

“Can I offer you something to drink or eat?” Lily asked, feeling very underprepared.

“I’d be delighted if you’d sit and have a coffee with me,” Euphemia said pleasantly, “I’m not as enamoured with doughnuts as my son seems to be.”

Laughing nervously, Lily made two coffees and brought them to the table, trying not to shake the coffee cups as she moved.

“Thank you,” Euphemia said, as Lily bemoaned that she didn’t have fancier napkins to offer the Queen Mother. “You have a very nice café,” she added.

“Thank you,” Lily said as she sat down opposite Euphemia.

“I’m sure you think you know why I’m here,” her customer went on. “I’m sure you think I’m here to tell you to stay away from James.” Euphemia took a sip of coffee, “well? Am I right?”

“Yes,” Lily breathed, holding on to her own cup. “Aren’t you?”

Euphemia shook her head. “Not at all. Although, I could see why you would think that. I’m sure James thought that would be my response when he told me about you. But, having met you, I can see that he’s right.”

“I’m sorry, m’am, right about what?”

“The public would love you,” Euphemia replied, “you’re very beautiful. Unsurprisingly, the public like that in a person. You’re also sweet, you own and manage a business so it’s likely that you’re smart and you seem kind. There may be a few stuffy types who will probably turn their noses up but all in all, it would be a public relations success if the King were to marry you.”

“Thank you,” Lily managed.

“In fact, I am here to warn you.”

“To warn me?”

“Yes,” Euphemia continued, “of how difficult it would be for you to transition into this life.”

“I have been thinking about that,” Lily admitted, dreading to ask her next question, “I would have to close my café, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Euphemia replied frankly, “you would have to. I’m sure you could sell it for a large amount, especially once it became public knowledge who you were.”

Not wanting to say how much the thought of closing her café hurt her, Lily drank some coffee instead.

“I can see that thought upsets you,” she went on, “and I can understand why. This is a beautiful place. You must have worked very hard to open it.

“I did,” Lily reflected.

“Our life has many privileges,” Euphemia said, “but also many drawbacks. The end of a career is one aspect of that. But you can replace it with charity work that you are passionate about. It will be up to you to decide whether you will feel satisfied with that replacement.”

Lily tried to think this through but the thought of it was a little much for a Sunday morning.

“Do you love my son?” Euphemia asked suddenly.

“Very much,” Lily replied, feeling no shame or compunction in what she said. “If this wasn’t so complicated, I would probably marry him tomorrow.”

Euphemia smiled lightly, “in that case, I will give him my blessing to ask you to marry him. Not that he needs it, although I know he would like to have it. Now all that remains my dear, is for you to decide what you will say when he asks.”

“Is that why you came today?” Lily queried shyly, skin pricking at Euphemia’s words.

“Partly,” she said, “the King is opening Parliament tomorrow and is still going over the speech with his aides. I believe he asked Remus to convey his apologies but I intercepted that message,” she went on as Lily laughed. “Tomorrow is one of the biggest days of his reign yet,” she continued seriously, “he’s very concerned that it goes well.”

“I’m sure,” Lily agreed, thinking she should have asked James more about his work.

“It’s quite an occasion,” Euphemia informed her, “I’m sure you’d enjoy it. Have you ever been to Parliament, dear?”

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

Lily, as it turned out, had never been to Parliament before, at least not when so much pomp and circumstance was going on.

She stood with Remus as she watched James stride majestically through the corridors of Westminster, with four attendants holding up the resplendent red robes that fell behind him. The crown that sat upon his head glinted from every angle as light hit off the sapphires, rubies and diamonds that adorned the purple velvet cap.

Lily couldn’t go into the chamber and instead watched the ceremony on the screens set up outside for journalists. Although he didn’t have to, Remus had evidently decided to watch the whole of the ceremony with her.

“My Lords, pray be seated,” James said and Lily couldn’t help but smile at how natural he looked in his robes.

“He didn’t write this, right?” She queried to Remus, who shook his head.

“No, it’s written by the Prime Minister and her office. It’s just a list of their legislative proposals for the year. His Majesty is supposed to read it in a neutral tone so as not to indicate approval of any of the policies,” Remus informed her quietly, looking around to make sure no journalists were listening to them. “His Majesty found that particularly hard, as you’ll imagine.”

Lily couldn’t help but giggle. Knowing James this did seem like something that would trouble him.

They listened for a while to James speaking. He sounded so authoritative and yet she couldn’t help but remember the times in the café with him: how he was with her in private, how fun and charming and caring. Watching him doing his job, she felt inwardly a confirmation that she had known from the beginning: she wanted to help him do this.

“Remus?” She asked, getting his attention, “my café. Could I turn it into a charity? Not for me to work in but we could open it up and donate the profits to good causes. If there was a board, perhaps I could sit on it?”

“Yes, that sounds possible,” Remus observed, watching her strangely. “Maybe even a good idea.”

Lily smiled a little, still watching the television screen.

“Does this mean…?” Remus trailed off, now smiling a little himself.

Lily nodded, not taking her eyes off James.

“Excellent,” he said calmly, folding his arms in satisfaction.

“Hi Lupin,” a reporter said, startling them both as he appeared beside Remus. “Going well,” he observed.

“Thanks Tommy,” Remus replied.

“Who’s this?” Tommy asked, somewhat abruptly.

“Tommy, this is Lily Evans,” Remus informed him, astonishing Lily. “Trust me when I say you’ll want to write that name down.”

#jily fanfiction #jily au #Harry Potter #lily evans #james potter #royalty!au

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rose-of-gabriel · 7 years ago

Text

Pause (chapter 3)

Ao3 Link

(just to rehash: takes place before 1x08)

Ty’s a bit giddy for all of three seconds before his mother lets out a heavy sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s clinging to her sanity.

“Well,” she says, heading toward the kitchen, “I need a drink. Honey?”

“Red or white?” Otis follows her.

Adina laughs. “Oh no, we’re going straight to the whiskey. Tandy, can I get you anything? Juice? Tea – decaf, of course. Hot chocolate?” Tandy’s ears literally perk up and Ty bites his lip to keep from laughing. Adina grins. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

When his parents disappear, Tyrone quirks an eyebrow at Tandy. “What are you, ten?”

She narrows her eyes defiantly. “Don’t act like you’re too cool for hot chocolate, choir boy.” He rolls his eyes. Giving the room a once-over, Tandy probes, “So, you gonna give me a house tour or what?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re nosy as hell.”

Her smirk is wicked as she pushes herself up on her toes, invading his space. “Afraid I’ll find your porn magazines?”

“Oh my God.”

“Come on.” She wanders around the coffee table, idly fingering the contents on top. “Show me something cool.”

“Like what?”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “You tell me.”

The first thing that comes to mind is to show her the box where he’s kept her ballet slipper all these years. But no, that’s a level of creep that he’s not ready to own up to. Instead he motions for her to follow him into the basement. Along the far wall is the sole reason he’s never been allowed to roughhouse down here: his parents’ record collection.

“Dude,” Tandy breathes, “you guys have a phonograph?”

“Yeah, we got it when my grandfather moved into assisted living.”

She’s at the record case before he even finishes, practically vibrating with excitement. Her eyes scan over every title hungrily. She picks up an old jazz record and runs her hand along the cover.

“This is sick.” She says, beaming at him, and he wants to smile, wants to be in the moment with her, but all he can see is the purple skin marring her temple and the dried blood in her hair.

His palms itch with the desire to reach out, but his fists stay firmly at his sides. He shifts awkwardly on his feet, mulling over how to best approach the subject.

“Did you find anything out, you know, before everything hit the fan?”

Her smile falls and she shrugs. “Not much. There’s a van that’s been making the same rounds every night for the past few weeks.” She keeps looking through the records like this isn’t even worth her full attention. “They keep loading something in from the warehouse and moving it to a second location. Figure I’ll follow the van and –”

“What?” he barks, startling her, “You’re going to keep following these people after what happened tonight?” She stares at him blankly as if it’s most obvious thing in the world. Tyrone lets out a breath of disbelief. “Tandy, what if I hadn’t been there?”

She closes her eyes, sighing, “Ty –”

“You could have died!” His voice cracks on the last word like he can’t physically bear to say it.

She blinks at him and he feels utterly ridiculous but he also doesn’t care. How can she be so unconcerned with her own safety? How can she act like it doesn’t matter – like her life doesn’t matter? He wants to convince her that it does, wants her to care, but there’s a petulant voice in his head screaming what about me? I don’t want to watch anyone else die! Why doesn’t that matter to you?

Tandy is quiet for a long moment, ultimately avoiding his question with one of her own. “How did you find me? How did you even know that I was in trouble?”

Ty shakes his head. “I don’t know, I just – I just felt it. It was like this pain. Then to find you I just…” he shrugs, “I don’t know, I just thought of you.”

Tandy nods considerately. She bites her lip, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “What did you think about?”

It stuns him how fast she can change the entire mood of a room. His frustration immediately gives way to something else as heat blooms in his cheeks. “For real?”

Her eyebrows quirk innocently. “Just a question.”

He could lie. He probably should, or turn it into a joke. For some reason he tells her the truth. “Your hair.” She looks skeptical. “Last time I saw you it was in braids.”

“That’s dumb.” She says, scrunching her nose.

He chuckles. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Her eyes take on a softness he hadn’t been expecting as she inches closer to him. “What else did you think about?”

“How do you know that wasn’t it?”

She doesn’t budge. “What else?”

Tyrone sighs. “Those ratchet sneakers you always wear.” She frowns comically. He grins, meeting her eyes when he says, “Your smile.”

He’s probably imagining the blush the spreads across her cheeks but he doesn’t get the chance to confirm it before Adina calls from upstairs, “Cocoa’s ready, guys.”

When they enter the kitchen, Otis and Adina are both nursing half-empty glasses of whiskey. At the end of the counter sit two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, one of them being shaped like a basketball with Tyrone’s name on it. Tandy raises her eyebrow but Ty ignores her in favor of getting the whipped cream out of the fridge. She pushes the mugs toward him and he puts a little extra in hers, then tilts his head back and sprays some into his mouth.

“Tyrone.” Adina chides. He offers a garbled, full-mouthed apology that makes Tandy laugh. Adina takes another swig before saying, “So dear, tell us about yourself.” Her tone is casual, but Otis’ calculating eyes make it clear: this is a full-blown parental interrogation.

To her credit, Tandy doesn’t seem nervous in the slightest. “Not much to know, honestly.” She launches into a story that’s sort of true but bullshit enough that Ty wants to laugh.

While his parents are occupied he pulls out his phone a sends a quick text to Evita.

SORRY FOR BOLTING. GOT EVERYTHING TAKEN CARE OF.

GOOD. HOW’S CRAZY WHITE GIRL?

HOW’D YOU KNOW IT WAS ABOUT TANDY?

BECAUSE YOU’RE THE DIVINE PAIRING, DUMBY. SHE OK?

Ty hesitates to answer. Sometimes he thinks Tandy’s never really okay, she’s just good at pretending to be. He simply replies,

YEAH. SHE’S GOOD.

Adina’s laugh brings him back into the moment. It’s a loud, guttural laugh that she only ever makes when she’s in legitimate hysterics. Even his dad has a bemused smirk on his face. Tandy locks eyes with Ty and shoots him a wink, sipping her cocoa triumphantly. He smiles, but it feels weighted. Adina picks up the conversation, probably something embarrassing about his adolescent years. Ty can barely hear. His eyes stay tethered to Tandy, trying to sort out the real from the pretend.

The Johnson’s guest bathroom is bigger than her mom’s kitchen and Tandy tries really hard not to be bitter about it. This is Tyrone, after all. She knows that living in a fancy house doesn’t mean his life’s been easy, but God damn, how many decorative hand towels and artisanal soaps does one family need?

She turns the faucet on and starts filling the bathtub, dumping in every kind of bubble bath available. Undressing is a slow, painstaking process, her muscles screaming in protest. The vanity mirror offers her three different angles to view herself from and none of them are flattering. Her right shoulder – where she’d been slammed against the storage crate – is the same sickening display of purple and blue as her forehead. She runs a tentative finger along her temple at hisses when even the gentle touch makes it ache. Washing the blood out of her hair is going to suck.

Tandy takes a deep breath, eyes running over her bruised and bloodied form. The voice in her head whispers yes, this is what you’re supposed to look like: as damaged and ugly on the outside as you are on the inside. She thinks of herself in all those stolen dresses and glittering accessories. That’s not the real you. You’re a liar. A junkie. This is the real you.

A knock on the door keeps her from spiraling any further.

“Just a sec.” She says, grabbing a towel off the rack and tucking it around herself.

She opens the door and nearly chortles as Tyrone’s eyes go wide and immediately lock onto the floor.

“I… sorry I just… my mom wanted me to… uh, she said she’d wash your clothes while you’re in the bath and uh… here.” He thrusts a floral pajama set into her hands. “Those are for you… for tonight. They’re Mom’s but she said you can borrow them.”

He’s beet-red by the time he finishes and Tandy can’t help but snigger. “Deep breaths, Ty. Deep breaths.” He finally meets her gaze, if only to glare at her. “I’ll have to thank her, and your dad. They’ve both been wonderful.”

Ty grins reluctantly. “Yeah, they’re alright.”

Tandy soaks in his smile for a second longer before setting the pajamas on the edge of the sink and turning to grab her hoodie and jeans off the floor.

Ty gasps. “Shit, Tandy.”

There’s a tingling sensation in her shoulder blade and a flash of black and white. She whips around to see Ty’s outstretched hand, hovering in mid-air like he’s shell shocked. He slowly realizes what he’s done and lowers his arm.

“What happened to you?” he says, aghast.

“What do you mean?”

“Your shoulder.”

Tandy huffs. He’d scared the daylights out of her over that? “It was the same dude that gave me a concussion. Threw me up against a wall and started strangling me.” She thinks if his eyes get any wider, he may actually hurt himself, so she quickly adds, “Ty, it was fine. I popped out one of these babies.” She produces a dagger with her free hand. “And bada-bing bada-boom, we’re all good.”

He gapes at her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Her heart drops into her stomach. “How can you be so cool about this?”

Heat flares in her palm and she digs her fingernails into her skin to keep it from igniting. She moves close enough for him to feel the venom in her words. “I’m willing to risk a few bruises if it means getting justice for my dad.”

Ty doesn’t back down, instead taking a step closer, his face terrifyingly open. “But what if it kills you, Tandy?” Her fire nearly dies at the desperation in his voice. “Then your dad will still be seen as a failure and you’ll just be gone.” He pauses like he wants that word to sink in. “Who benefits from that?”

Her instincts kick in and she nearly spits what do you care? But even in the throes of her anger, she knows that isn’t fair. Tyrone’s proven to be the best friend she’s ever had. She knows he cares. She also knows he’ll be okay without her. He’s got Evita and his parents. He’s got a future.

What does Tandy have? A prescription drug addiction and a worn out hoodie? The only thing in her life that matters is her father’s memory, and Roxxon is trying to destroy it. How can Ty not get that? After all they’ve been through, how can he still not understand what’s at stake here?

The spark of fury returns and she surrenders to it. “You were willing to kill someone to avenge your brother. You were willing to become a drug runner.” He looks away but she won’t let him off that easily. She steps even closer until her skin is glowing and she can feel his energy pulsing around her. His head snaps up and he jolts backward but she refuses to lose ground. “Stop acting like you’re so much better than me.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are.” Her voice cracks, eyes stinging. “You think I’m crazy for going after Roxxon. I can see it in your face every time I bring it up. You act like this thing you’re doing with Detective O’Reilly is somehow different. Well guess what, Tyrone: it’s not. So you can drop this “holier than thou” attitude because it’s really starting to piss me off.” Tears spill down her cheeks and she violently wipes them away, shoving her clothes into Tyrone’s chest. “Be careful with the hoodie.”

She pivots on her heel to shut off the faucet. He’s gone when she turns back around.

#marvel's cloak and dagger #cloak and dagger #tandy bowen #tyrone johnson #tyrone x tandy #pause #fanfiction #fanfic

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thatonecurlygirl · 7 years ago

Text

You Never Smile at Me Like That {Pt. 5}

Steve x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

You suddenly shoot up from your laying position, heart pounding in your chest as you wake up in a cold sweat. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you become painfully aware of the burning sensation in your lungs and the fact that your room is so cold, freezing actually and you can feel your nose running. This wouldn’t be the first time you accidentally left your window open but you rarely even open it in the winter. After the nightmare you just had you aren’t too worried about why you left it open -- you just want it closed -- you want to feel safe and warm behind your locked windows and doors. You bring your hands back up to your face, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand allowing your eyes to finally adjust the darkness surrounding you. You are not home, you are laying in the security office at the outside gate entrance of Hawkins Lab.

You clamor on to your feet and feel around for the switch and when you flip it, the small room is flooded with light. All you can think about is why you are here at the place that has always creeped you out and how you got there without your car. Pulling the phone from where it hangs on the wall,, you dial the number of the first person that comes to mind.

“Hello?” The raspy voice of the sleep-interrupted boy on the other side of the phone answers.

“Steve, can you come get me?” You ask softly, trying to keep your cool -- the small amount of ‘cool’ remaining deep in your reserve.

“(y/n), are you okay?” He asks with concern evident in his voice and completely awake at this point.

“I had a nightmare and woke up outside Hawkins Lab.” You shiver not only at the freezing winter breeze but the sight of the eerie building in front of you. “I’m cold and this place is scaring me a little bit.”

“I’m on my way. I will be there in just a few minutes.” He says and hangs up, wasting no time to get to you.

The wind whistles as the snow continues to fall and accumulate on the ground outside, covering up the single set of footsteps that belonged to you. The tracks seem almost eerie or surreal seeing as came in nearly a straight line down the street for as far as you can see. Somehow for some reason you slept walked straight here in the middle of the night -- to a place you avoid in the daylight.

Not even ten minutes after calling, you see Steve’s car pull up and he jumps out. He runs up to you and wraps a big quilt around your shaking body and guides you out to the passenger seat of his car and running to the other side, slipping in.

“Are you okay? It’s freezing out there?” Steve cranks up the heat and pulls away.

“Yeah, I’m not hurt, just a little freaked out and confused.” You pull the thick blanket around you tighter.

“So tell me exactly what happened.” He says, eyes focused on the slick and snowy roads ahead.

“I had a nightmare someone broke into the house. In the dream, I snuck out the window and hurt my ankle and I was running toward Billy’s house. Then I woke up outside the lab. I’ve never slept walked before and it’s just weird that the first time I do I walk out in the cold for miles to Hawkins Lab.” You look back in the mirror as you watch the lab disappear in the distance. “It’s stupid, I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid,” Steve assures you, his mind going a mile a minute as he worries about how and why you ended up at Hawkins Lab, the place that has caused nothing but nightmares for him and the little group he had become close with over the past year. “You can call me whenever, no matter the time.”

“Thanks for this, Steve.” You stare out the window at your house coming into view.

“Looks like your parents are gone.” He comments as he pulls up behind your car in the driveway.

“Guess so,” you sigh. “I really don’t feel like being alone. Would you stay with me tonight? I know with… everything between us right now it’s a little awkward but-”

“Of course, let’s get you inside.” He turns the car off and gets out, running over to your side and helping you up the slick driveway and to your front porch, reaching under the porch swing where you kept the spare key taped.

You cross the threshold of your house, anxious to see if your dream was, in fact, a dream. You were surprised and relieved to see your house untouched -- left exactly how it was before you went to bed. Steve insisted on you going to lay back in your bed while he slept on the couch. He made sure you were tucked in, warm, and safe as he sat in the room with you until you fell asleep. This is one of the reasons you fell for Steve, he's always trying his hardest to take care of you.

The familiar sound of your phone ringing on your bedside table breaks your sleep as your sleepy limbs stretch into the air before you pull the phone to your ear. Taking a few seconds before you can find your voice to yawn out a “Hello?”

“Hey honey, it’s mom. I went to pick Dad up from the airport but the weather got bad and they closed down the roads. It looks like we are stuck…” The rest of whatever your mom says turns into mumbles in your ear as the deja vu surfaces to the front of your mind and the sound of rustling downstairs catches your attention.

“(y/n)? (y/n) can you hear me?” You mom asks over the phone.

“Yeah mom, sorry I just zoned out for a minute.” You answer her but receive no reply in return. “Hello? Mom are you there?” You ask but the only thing that you get in reply is silence, not even the sound of the electricity buzzing through the phone.

You place the phone back down and sit there in awe and confusion. You slide off the bed, wrapping the blanket around you are you walk to the window. Flipping the lock, you try to push it open and unsurprisingly it catches. With another firm push the window jolts open, slamming against the top with a loud thud. Frantic sounds of footsteps ascending the stairs and toward your bedroom has you frozen in your place, even after the door flies open.

“My dream… this is what happened in my dream.” You say to Steve as he walks up behind you.

“What? What happened in your dream?” He asks, reaching past you and closing the window back.

“The call from my Mom saying they are stuck in Indy, the phone going out, me opening the door, you running up the steps.” You shake your head, walking back to your bed. “The only difference is I knew what was going on and I knew it was you coming up the stairs. God, it’s a crazy case of Deja vu.” You groan and turn, walking back to the bed.

“You okay? Like do you feel okay?” Steve asks worried, things keep getting weirder and weirder and knowing what he knows, that’s only trouble.

“Yeah, I feel fine.”

“Come here,” Steve says walking over and sitting next to you. He places the back of his hand against your forehead, feeling an abnormal amount of heat radiating from your skin. “You’re hot.” He sighs.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You wink playfully as you pull the blankets closer to you. “I actually am freezing.” You groan.

“I’m going to get you some more blankets and make you some hot chocolate.” Steve stands up, heading to walk out of your bedroom door.

“Actually, could you just get the fireplace started? I’m going to bring blankets down and lay in front of the fire to warm up.” You stand up, grabbing an armful of your blankets and pillows.

Steve wasn’t going to let it show that he was nervous and scared for your sake and he absolutely wasn’t going to say anything to you about it. He doesn’t want to drag you into the mess that he stumbled across when dating Nancy Wheeler. He felt better than you asked him to stay with you, he liked being able to keep an eye on you. He also always liked taking care of you and was never afraid to be around you when you were sick and you appreciated that.

You lay in the pile of your blankets on the floor in front of the fireplace, surrounded by used up tissues, packs of crackers and a bottle of sprite. Your nose stuffy, head congested, and the medicine that Steve found in the closet making you drowsy. All those combined along with you crying while watching E.T. made it hard for you to hear the knocking on the door or even Steve getting up to answer it.

“What the hell are you doing here, Steve?” A muffled sounding voice asks, bringing your attention to where Steve stands at the door.

“Who’s that?” You ask, shuffling over to the door and peeking around Steve to see Dustin, one of the kids Steve’s had hanging around who happens to live a few houses down. “Oh hi, Dustin.” You smile.

“Oh, did I interrupt something?” Dustin smirks, pointing out the clothing that sloppily hangs off your body. You have to admit, it looks like you threw them on in a hurry.

“No, she’s just sick. I’m taking care of her.” Steve looks at you with a small smile “(y/n), I need to talk to this little shit real quick. Are you okay by yourself for a few minutes?”

“I’m not dying. I promise I can take care of myself.” You laugh, “Nice seeing you Dustin.” You say with a little wave and turn around, going to make yourself comfortable in your nest of blankets.

Steve had his suspicions about what really happened last night. He was afraid that somehow for some reason you were dragged into the mess that him and the other’s now call their twisted life. To be honest he didn’t want to even freak the kids out about what was happening but he needed to let someone know what was possibly happening so they could be prepared.

When Steve walks back into the house you notice he looks stressed before he smiles wide at you. You can tell there’s something going on in that mind of his. He walks over and sits on the couch, motioning you over.

“How ya feeling?” He asks, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Sleepy but other than that I’m actually starting to feel a little better.” You breathe in the scent of Steve, the scent you’ve missed smelling. “Thank you got all this Steve… but you’re making this ‘taking it slow… friends for now’ thing a little difficult.” You confess looking up into his eyes.

“Is that right?” He chuckles, looking down into your eyes as lovingly as he used to.

“If I wasn’t sick I would so kiss you right now.” You say softly and lean your head back against his shoulder.

“I don’t mind.” His voice as smooth as your favorite soft serve at Dairy Queen. He uses one hand to lift your face to look back up at him, your faces only inches from each other. “I’d be more than happy to catch a cold from kissing you.”

He leans down and places his lips against yours ever so slightly in the softest kiss you’ve ever had. The kiss was slow and his lips moved with a passionate devotion. It was honestly the best kiss you ever had. When you pull away from Steve smiles and caresses your face.

“I’ve missed doing that.” He admits.

“Me too.” You smile looking down at your hands. You open your mouth to say something else but you are interrupted by a knock on the door. “I’ll get it.” You pat his chest as you stand up to walk to the door.

“I’m going to heat up some soup,” Steve says, standing up and walking to the kitchen.

You pull the front door open to come face-to-face with someone you never expected to be standing on your front porch. “Nancy?”

Tags: @yuukiahim @bilesxbilinskixlahey @the-ghostgirl-blog @vanitysfairr @yannii04 @alonewolfsblog @thgleslie @hushyourlies

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fandom #harrington x reader #steve harrington fic

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btextswriting · 7 years ago

Text

HALLOWEEN BET {fluffy Jungkook one shot}

C’mon, we’re gonna be late! You yelled down the hallway as you looked at your phone. Your friend’s costume party was starting in a half-hour and it was a long drive to get to her house. You stood there, the obligatory bottle of wine in hand, as you tapped your foot lightly on the ground.

I’m not wearing this. You heard Jungkook mumble from your shared bedroom and you rolled your eyes.

Last time I checked, you lost the bet. You reminded him of the wager he had made earlier that month. Thinking back, you couldn’t help but laugh.

It was the first of October, which meant the first day of the best month of the year. Everyone liked the Halloween, but you took it to a whole new level. The fall weather, the candy, the decorations, you were in love with it all.

You and Jungkook had been dating for a couple years, and every time October came around, Jungkook had non-stop jokes about your minor Halloween obsession. So you prepared yourself for the banter when he was walking into the apartment, but instead of the usual joke about how Halloween had thrown up in your apartment, Jungkook had a sly smile.

Hey. You said with a bit of hesitation, as Jungkook came over to give you a light peck.

Hey, how’s my Halloween cutie? He asked and you gave him a skeptical look.

What are you up to? You asked and he let out a chuckle.

I’m not allowed to ask how you are? He asked and you raised a brow.

No, because you’re a piece of shit. What are you up to? You asked again, causing another bubble of laughter come from Jungkook’s lips. His smile grew wide as he pulled a plastic costume bag from behind his back.

A small, pink Playboy bunny costume sat crumpled in the bag.

I wanna play a game. He said and you looked at the costume in disgust. You were never the sexy costume type, you liked costumes with a bit more wit to them.

No, no, no. You replied, putting the plastic bag on the kitchen table.

C’mon, you are forcing me to go to a Halloween costume party, so I thought I could pick out your costume. He responded and you looked at him with your own sly smile.

Why don’t we make a bet? You asked and his brow furrowed.

Go on. He said. You knew he was intrigued.

I’ll wear this, if I lose, but if I win, I pick out your costume. You said the terms and Jungkook nodded.

What’s the bet? He asked and you smiled.

A scare bet. The first one to scare the other wins. You replied and Jungkook’s smile widened.

You got it! He held out his hand and you shook on it. You shook your head as Jungkook skipped around.

I just need to find the perfect Hugh Hefner robe, because you’re gonna lose! He yelled out of your shared bedroom as you let out a little giggle.

It had been a couple busy weeks of work, and the two of you acted like no bet was in place. Jungkook had practices almost every night until 1 or 2am, so you were growing accustomed to having the place to yourself. Then you heard a tapping noise on your bedroom window. You whipped your head to the dark windows, but the tapping ceased and you let out a little sigh of relief. You got up from the bed and as you made your way to the kitchen, the tapping started again. Furrowing your brow, you lightly walked over to the window, staying out of sight, you peered out to see a guy run past the streetlights. Then you heard the click of the lock.

Looking over at the bedroom door, you heard a scuffle of feet and shushing sounds. Shaking your head, it all made sense. Jungkook must have told the guys about the bet. You thought to yourself as you quickly began to devise a plan.

Jungkook tried to keep the guys completely quiet, he had gotten the okay from Hobi who was throwing small pebbles at the window to distract you. He knew you were in the bedroom, so now he just had to lure you out, so he could scare the living daylights out of you.

Yah! That’s my foot! Jin scream-whispered at Tae, who had unknowingly stepped on the elder’s toes.

Shh. Jungkook put his finger up to his lips. He walked over to the light switch, and began flickering the lights. This would definitely lure you out. But as he continued to move the light switch up and down, there was no movement coming from the bedroom. Jungkook put his ear up to the door, but couldn’t hear any movement. He flicked the lights on in the kitchen area and put his hand on the door knob.

Jungkook, what are you doing? Hobi whispered and Jungkook looked at him with confusion.

You’re supposed to be outside! Jungkook whispered in reply, but Hobi shrugged.

I was cold, plus I had already thrown the rocks. He mumbled and Jungkook rolled his eyes. Looking back at the door, he took a deep breath. Opening the door, he was expecting to see you, but was met with the room in a complete disarray.

What the fuck? He asked the empty air. You stood on the fire escape, with your hand over your mouth, listening intently to Jungkook’s confused voice. She’s not even here! Jungkook called out and you heard slow steps walking into the bedroom.

Yah, it looks like a mess in here, I thought Y/N was a clean freak. Jimin’s voice rang through the room.

She is. Jungkook started to sound hesitant. You don’t think something happened while I was gone? He asked and your heart hurt at how sweet he was being, then you remembered that Playboy bunny costume.

Jungkook, the window is open. You don’t think she ran off or someone came in right? Namjoon’s voice bellowed and you felt your hands get clammy, this was it.

You could hear steps make there way to the window, and then Jungkook’s hands reached up to close the opened window. You reached your hand through the window and grabbed his wrist.

YAAAAAH! Jungkook screamed in complete fear. The quiet click of a camera came from Hobi’s phone as he smiled widely.

I got the picture, Y/N! Hobi yelled and you came out of the shadows and giggled.

Thanks, Hobi! You replied and happily climbed through the window. Jungkook stood there looking from you to Hobi, then back to you.

You … How did you? Jungkook stuttered and you laughed.

I saw Hobi running, so I texted him that if he kept you occupied, I’d make him cake. Jungkook shot a glare at Hobi, who shyly smiled.

If you could make it chocolate, that would be great. Hobi murmured and you nodded.

Then I asked him to get a picture of you, so I could keep it as a keepsake. You replied and Jungkook’s mouth hardened into a straight line. Awww, cheer up, don’t be a sore loser. Look how cute you are! You exclaimed, holding up your phone to show the picture of Jungkook’s screaming face from moments before. Jungkook rolled his eyes and finally let out a little smile.

Fine, fine. You win. He murmured and you smiled.

Now it was the day of the party and you were still tapping your foot, when the bedroom door opened to reveal Jungkook in a bunny costume.

This is ridiculous. He mumbled and you smiled.

You’ve worn it before, so I thought it wouldn’t be too bad. You replied and he rolled his eyes.

I look dumb. He murmured and you laughed.

Yea, but you’re my dumby! You tried to soften the blow and he shook his head and laughed a little.

So what are you supposed to be? He asked and you did a little twirl.

I’m the girl Hugh Hefner! You wore a red robe, navy pajama pants, and a captain’s hat. You’re my PlayBOY. You emphasized the word and Jungkook chuckled.

Waddling up to you, he sighed and as he walked past you pulled his arm a little and revealed the Playboy bunny costume under your red robe.

This is your reward for being such a trooper, but only until after the party. You said and watched Jungkook’s face turn bright red before nodding and pulling you out the door.

Let’s get there and back ASAP! He screeched as you laughed.

Who knew sexy costumes could be so much fun?

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tomhsparker · 8 years ago

Text

new rules - tom holland imagine #5

about : tom hates your ex boyfriend. like really hates your ex boyfriend.

warning : very cheesy dialogue, angry/sad tom, a lotta swearing!

notes : so dua lipa’s new song, new rules, really got me feeling like i miss an ex i never had. hence, i decided to write this. it’s really cheesy and im not v proud of it, but im gonna post it anyways. enjoy!

----

“Talkin' in my sleep at night, makin' myself crazy.”

You gasped, sitting up in your bed. Sweat rolled down your forehead, your back, everywhere. Images of your dream came running through your mind and your heart dropped.

It had been about five weeks since your breakup with your ex boyfriend. Back then, he seemed like the perfect man to you. He was charming and funny. His chocolate brown eyes and his radiant smile practically drew you in. If someone told you six months ago that he would break your heart, you would’ve refused to believe them. In your mind, he was a perfect angel.

An angel just for you, and not anyone else.

Or so you thought.

On the day of your six months anniversary, you had planned a wonderful home-made dinner at home. A bowl of spaghetti sat on your dinner table, which eventually grew colder as the hours passed. You told Eric to come over at 7, but it was already nearing midnight and he was nowhere to be seen.

Exasperated, you poured the remainder of the red wine bottle in your cup and downed it in ten seconds. You couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t going to come. Tossing your phone aside, you gave up on texting and calling him. It wasn’t like he was going to reply anyways. You stood up from the dinner table and grabbed the spaghetti bowl. Stomping over towards your trashcan, you threw it into the bin furiously. Your head was at a disarray and anger bubbled in your heart.

You were livid. What was he doing that was more important than you?

Grabbing your smartphone and a coat, you walked out of your tiny apartment and into your car. If he wasn’t going to come to you, you were going to him. This wasn’t the first time he had ditched either, so you were even more pissed off by the fact that he did this to you.

You reached his house in a matter of minutes, but what you saw made your heart shatter into a trillion pieces.

There he was, standing outside his apartment building, with a beautiful blonde girl in his arms. His lips were hungrily attacking hers, along with his hands intertwined in her hair. You soon recognized the girl as your best mate, Alice.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling, but you knew you had to get out of there as quick as possible. Reversing, you sped away from the heart-wrenching scene.

Somehow, you weren’t very surprised by the sight. You knew deep down, he was going to find someone new.

“My love, he makes me feel like nobody else, nobody else

But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself, I tell myself.”

After that night, you broke off all ties with Eric. Although you knew better, a small part of you still missed him. And it seemed like Eric did too, since he kept trying to call and text you. You almost caved in several times, but you were grateful that you had someone to always stop you from doing so.

Picking up your phone from the nightstand, you unlocked it and scrolled through your contacts. You put the phone against your ear after clicking the ‘call’ icon.

“Hello?” A groggy voice came after three rings.

“Tom, can I come over? I don’t think I can sleep,” you asked, slipping out of your bed.

“Y/N? Yeah sure, come over. But you do realise it’s literally 3 am in the morning?” Tom groaned, some shuffling from his own duvet filled your ears.

“I know, I’m sorry. But I need a nice Holland hug right now,” you chuckled.

Tom merely hummed and told you to stay safe before you hung up. Throwing on a hoodie, you wore your trainers and in a few minutes, you were out the door. The cold London air made the hair on your arms stand even though you were wearing a hoodie. Jogging over to your car, you unlocked it quickly and drove off.

One, don't pick up the phone

You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone

When Tom opened the door, the first thing he did was envelop you in a hug. The cold winter weather made you shiver, so the Holland hug was super helpful. You melted into his arms, sighing in relief. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you snuggled your head into his chest. His head rested on top of yours and the both of you stood outside his house, in complete but comfortable silence.

You broke out of the hug first, enjoying the welcoming yet tiring smile on his face. Tom took your arm and led you into the house, letting you walk in first before locking the door. You slipped off your shoes, making sure to be extremely quiet. The Holland household was so eerily silent since everyone was asleep.

“Want a cup of tea?” Tom sleepily asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s just go to bed,” you said, already walking towards Tom’s room.

“G-go to bed?” Tom stuttered, jogging after you.

Turning the knob to his door, you nodded.

“I can’t sleep so I wanted to sleep with you.”

You froze and cringed, realising how awkward that sounded. Turning around slowly, you were greeted by a blushing Tom.

“T-That’s not what I meant. I meant,” now you were stumbling on your words too. Tom hid his face behind his hands and you could feel your own cheeks turn pink. You started to feel dumb as you entered his room, falling face first onto his bed.

A soft giggle sounded beside you and you groaned, using Tom’s pillow to cover the back of your head. Soon, the both of you were laughing a bit too hardly and too long for a joke like that. The bed sunk in beside you as you simmered down, finally stopping your laughter. You were about to ask him to scoot over when you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Flipping over, you took the phone out from your pocket and looked at the screen. The smile on your face instantly vanished and you could feel your heart palpitating.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You showed him your phone and a glare replaced Tom’s worried look. Snatching your phone from your hands, he pressed the decline button. Almost a few seconds after Tom hung up, Eric’s name flashed through the screen again.

“Tom, I’ll just - “ you were trying to take back your phone but Tom held his other arm out, blocking you from taking it back. He stood up and pressed the answer function. You gasped and hobbled over the bed, whispering for Tom to hang up.

‘Hey, asshole. Listen to me, you piece of shit. I’m saying this once and once only. Call Y/N one more time and I promise, you’ll never see daylight ever again. You didn’t deserve her, and you never will. So stop calling,” Tom spat, his voice dripping with venom. He didn’t even give a chance for Eric to answer as he hung up.

For a moment, Tom stood beside his bed with the phone clutched tightly in his hand. His chest heaved with heavy breaths and his jaw was clenched. The muscles on his arms protruded and you could see the veins on his neck popping. He was pissed.

You kept quiet, not knowing what to say. Without thinking, you spoke softly.

“You didn’t have to do that. I was handling him well enough.”

Tom laughed humorously, “what did you even see in him?”

Staring at your hands, you shrugged.

“He was nice,” you answered pathetically, refusing to look at Tom. You could feel his stare piercing through your skin.

“So was I.”

“Two, don't let him in

You'll have to kick him out again.”

“What does that mean?” you questioned, finally looking up.

Tom let out another humourless laugh, putting down your phone on his desk while pacing up and down his room.

“How do you not know? God, I dropped so many hints,” Tom said, his voice quivering slightly, “and you don’t have a clue.”

You watched him walk about in his room, feeling your heart thumping in your chest.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled.

Tom stopped and let his hands fall onto his sides, a defeated look on his face.

“I’m fucking in love with you, Y/N. Always have been. And it hurt watching you fall in love with someone who clearly didn’t love you back. Do you know how it feels to see you cry over some dick that never loved you? When all along it was me who loved you?”

By this time, he was panting. His soft brown eyes that you had grown to love were filled with unshed tears, threatening to spill. You stayed silent, completely stunned.

“Do you have any idea how much it fucking hurt to hear you talk about Eric and how much you want him back even though you knew you shouldn’t? Every day I have to tell you that you deserve better than him and it stings. I have to control myself whenever I’m around you, because I know you will never love me back. I can’t,” he stopped and wiped a tear rolling down his cheek, “I can’t believe that even after three years of knowing you, I’m still in love with you. When you clearly don’t feel the same.”

“And it doesn’t matter anymore because you love Eric. I don’t even - I don’t even know why I try. I guess I’m just not good enough for you.”

You rose from the bed, walking over towards Tom. His eyes were trained on the ground as he cried silently, more and more tears falling. Your heart was sinking at the sight of the usually bubbly and happy boy crying. Holding his face, you whispered for him to look up.

When you looked into his eyes, it finally hit you like a tidal wave.

It made sense now.

The hugs that would last too long, the ditzy smiles, the frequent flowers he got you, the lingering stares and the constant compliments.

You always thought he did it because he was your best friend. It was his duty to love you. You didn’t know he loved you like that.

And you were fucking glad for that. You always felt the same way.

You hid your feelings for Tom because you knew you weren’t good enough for him. Tom was an actor, on his way to becoming a well-known celebrity. Thousands of girls were also in pursuit for his love, so you tried to get over your feelings for him by going out with Eric. You were so scared of loving Tom, in fear of rejection.

He needed someone who was as successful as him, so he won’t be dragged down. He needed someone as beautiful as he was, inside and out.

You were none of that.

But after hearing his own confession, a weight finally lifted off your shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your voice above a whisper.

Tom smiled sadly, “because I couldn’t. You loved someone else.”

“Tom,” you breathed out, “it was always you.”

He frowned, looking at you through his eyelashes.

“What?”

“Why do you think I dated Eric? Look at him. He looks like you. I only went out with him because I was trying to get over you,” you admitted, “I thought I was only a friend to you. So I started dating Eric to get you off my mind.”

“And for some reason, you still popped up in my head everyday. It’s you, Tom.”

You wiped a tear with your thumb, slowly caressing his cheek. He leaned into your hand, shutting his eyes. Closing your eyes, you leaned in and collided his lips with yours. Tom made a noise but quickly recovered, holding your neck gently as he kissed back.

This kiss felt different from any other kiss you ever had. It was sweet, gentle yet full of passion and love. All of your repressed feelings were flowing, making the kiss more meaningful.

Tom pulled away, his hand still on your neck. He opened his eyes slowly and peered at you with his doe-like eyes.

“This isn’t some rebound thing, right?”

Shaking your head, you smiled sweetly and pecked him on his lips.

His lips tasted salty, probably from the tears that he cried. Yet they were extremely soft and you knew you were gonna get addicted to kissing him.

“I’ve been waiting years to do that,” Tom grinned, his smile widening by the second.

“Ditto, Holland.”

He let his lips touch your forehead and kissed it, before leading you over to his bed. The both of you laid down as Tom tossed the duvet over the both of you. You cuddled into his larger figure, letting him wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry I made you wait three years,” you joked, feeling his chest rumble from his laughter.

“For you, I would’ve waited more.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his reply, “that was cheesy.”

He rolled his eyes, “you love it.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I do.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one-shot #tom holland preference #peter parker #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader

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your-brother-crutchie · 7 years ago

Text

The Conlon Dilemma

Race can’t stand his feelings for Spot anymore and goes to rant to Jojo about it.

So, perhaps I only included Jojo being Race’s best friend because of B/en T/yler C/ook and J/oshua B/urrage but you have no proof.

Skidding down the corridor, Race focussed on Jojo’s door at the end. His roommate, Spot, had been asking if Race was seeing anyone and. He’d had to get out of there before he cracked.

Everyone knew that Race was fawning after Spot.

Everyone except Spot.

When he reached the door, Race didn’t even bother knocking. He knew that Jojo wouldn’t mind, he was his best friend after all, and his twin brother, Darcy, wasn’t likely to question it. It happened often enough, anyway. He barrelled through the door, only stopping once it was firmly in its hinges behind him.

Race looked up to see the back of Jojo’s head popping up over the sofa and let out a sigh of relief as he slumped against the back of the door, “Shit, Jojo, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Confusion flushed Race’s cheeks as Jojo’s shoulders heaved in a deep sigh before turning from his book to face Race. Only when Race focussed on the glasses and the neatly parted hair did he realise that he’d mistaken Darcy for Jojo.

“Oh my god, I give up!” Throwing his hands into the air and hopping over the back of the sofa to drop beside Darcy, Race buried his face into his hands and kneaded the heels of his palms into his eyes. All Race wanted to do was vent about his messed up love life to his best friend who might try to listen but he couldn’t even do that right. It wasn’t the first time that Race had got the two mixed up. At least he tended to know when he had recently, unlike when Race had first met Darcy.

Initially, Jojo didn’t mention that he had a twin. Race had met him in his English class and didn’t have any reason to believe that there could be another of him. One day, Race had decided to head to the local Starbucks for a coffee when he’d seen Jojo sitting in the window seat. He’d joined him naturally, complimenting him on his new glasses and asking if he’d just got a new prescription. It was only when Race leaned over the table to mess up Darcy’s neatly combed hair that Darcy had understood what was going on whilst pulling away. Darcy had kindly placed down his coffee and his book, folding his hands together neatly on the table in front of him as he explained slowly to Race that he wasn’t Jojo.

“Where’s Jojo, then?” Pulling his hands away from his face, Race turned to Darcy before dropping his head onto his shoulder and reading a couple of lines of his book, growing bored of it immediately. Darcy read some boring, old-fashioned stories. Race hadn’t even picked up a book that he didn’t need to for years.

Sighing as he placed a bookmark between the pages of his book, Darcy placed it gently on the coffee table before removing his reading glasses and turning to Race, “He’s in the shower. What’s up?”

Race had nothing against going to Darcy for advice, it was just that he always went to Jojo and Jojo was usually always right, “Spot.” He decided to give a short answer that Darcy would understand and wait for Jojo before pouring his heart out because he didn’t think he could do it twice.

Nodding quickly, Darcy eased a sleepy Race over onto the cushion next to the arm of the chair before standing and heading to the kitchen. Race didn’t really know what he was doing but he had a good feeling that he was making his hot chocolate. Darcy made a damn good hot chocolate.

As the sound of the shower stopped, Race started to feel uncomfortable in the silence. His room was always loud, full of the sound of Mario Kart or Spot slamming cupboard doors at three am. It was strange to be in an identical set of rooms that was so very different. However, the sound of the microwave soon pulled Race out of his thoughts as he looked up to see Darcy pulling three mugs down from one of the cupboards.

When the door across from him opened, Race looked up to see Jojo, sighing with his hair wet and lying flat over his eyes, “What now, Higgins?” Although it sounded confrontational, Race knew that it was fond as Jojo dropped next to him, taking him into his arms and letting him sniffle into his shoulder without question immediately.

“I can’t keep rooming with Spot, Jojo. I just can’t! I’m falling in love with him but Spot’s the only person who has no idea. He doesn’t even seem to be the slightest bit interested. I can’t really move out, either, because we’re supposed to be best friends so he’ll question it.” Race buried his nose into Jojo’s neck, trying to hide the fact that he was about ready to start crying even though he knew that his friend would know. Jojo always knew.

Jojo brushed his hand soothingly over Race’s hair, sighing as the boy started shaking, even if only slightly, “I know he’d ask questions but maybe you should switch? The only problem is that no one has a spare bed so you’d have to swap with someone and everyone’s either scared of Spot or happy rooming with their partners. You were the only one comfortable with him because you introduced us.” It was a difficult situation. If Race moved, it would only prompt questions and there wasn’t anywhere that he could move into anyway.

Pulling away slightly and staring dejectedly at the small wet patch that he had made on Jojo’s shirt, Race took a deep breath before looking up at his friend, “We’re all friends now, though. Surely there’s somebody?”

A heavy expression drew like curtains across Jojo’s face as he watched his friend, teary-eyed and desperate, “It’s better but I don’t think anyone’s ready to share a room with him.” He hated seeing Race like this but, since he’d started falling for Spot, it had become a weekly thing.

There had been a time when Race was unhappy. Constantly. His family was homophobic and he was confused and scared and he’d struggled through high school only to find that he hadn’t done as well as he’d been expected to. Jojo had been there, every single night, to hold him whilst he cried. Eventually, he’d managed to convince Race to go to a doctor, to get help.

Until Spot came along, the pills had been working, Race was happier than ever. A small part of Jojo would always resent the Brooklyn boy for making Race sad again but he knew that it wasn’t Spot’s fault. Race was just too damaged to understand that falling in love, wholly and completely, with a boy who didn’t even know you were gay was a road to disaster.

Jojo refused to ever see Race back there.

“You could do it? For me?” Race was desperate, that much was clear. He grasped at Jojo’s hand, eyes pleading for him to just say yes and let Race deal with his feelings far away from the cause.

Smiling sadly, Jojo pulled his hand out of Race’s tight grip and placed it soothingly on his cheek instead. They’d always been very touchy. Jojo had a feeling that it was something to do with Race not getting a lot of physical attention from his family, “Not a chance, Pasta.”

Suddenly, there was a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of Race’s face. Darcy stood there, holding it and waiting for the boy to take it as he smiled, glad to see that Jojo had the situation under control. He’d become very fond of Race over the years that he’d been friends with his brother and he hated seeing the boy upset almost as much as Jojo.

Race accepted the mug thankfully, blowing the steam across it gently as he settled back against the sofa once again, “Darcy?” He knew he’d get the same answer, exactly the same if the twins were feeling particularly in sync on that day.

6:1

“Not a chance.”

Race knew it.

“Sorry, Race. We love you but Spot scares the living daylights out of us.” Darcy handed Jojo his mug before resting on the other side of Race, letting the boy sigh into his shoulder.

Grumbling quietly to himself, Race brought the hot chocolate to his face to muffle his words, “What’s the use of having twin friends if neither of them are willing to do you one favour?”

A huff of laughter came from Darcy beside him as he carefully placed his mug on the table and picked up his book from where he had left it, “One favour that changes the rest of this college year.” He casually opened it to where he had delicately placed the bookmark earlier and only looked to Race when he had still not had a reply.

“Piss off, Darcy. You’re just reminding me of why I like Jojo better.” Race quipped back quickly, flipping over so that he was cuddled against Jojo’s side and presenting Darcy with his back.

Shaking his head, Darcy simply raised his eyebrows, collected his mug and took a careful sip before even thinking about a response, “A blatant lie.”

Jojo laughed, pulling Race closer into his side and being careful to make sure that neither of them spilled their drinks, “I don’t think so.” He pressed a lazy kiss to Race’s forehead, knowing that small, friendly gestures like that were always enough to make him smile, even if only a little bit.

“I love you guys.”

“We know.”

#newsies #rowan writes sprace #sprace #spot/race #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #jojo #darcy #newsies fanfiction #rowan writes #fics

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thebachelordiaries · 8 years ago

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Getting Out The Campzone: The Bachelorette Season Premiere Recap

Sweet. Sour. Sassy. Classy.

That’s our girl, Rachel.

Rachel is more beautiful than Cinderella. She smells like pine needles and has a face like sunshine.

The journey for Rachel to find a mate is officially underway and even though these men were hand-picked for her, she will still need to weed through the losers to find the love of her life.

And there are losers galore: a ticklemonster, a Whaboom! guy, an aspiring drummer and a dude named Jamey who hates women.

Some of these aforementioned were among the lucky few to get their own video packages.

-Kenny is a father to his beautiful 10-year-old daughter by day, and a professional wrestler called the “prettyboy pitbull” by night. So essentially, he barks, he bites and he’s good at cuddling.

-Jack Stone is a lawyer from Texas who has the potential to be the world’s most boring speaker right behind Ben Stein. His mother passed away from cancer when he was in high school, so he has a tragic story. The best part about him is that he has a labradoodle.

-Alex is a self-described beefy nerd. He says he likes to hit the weights at the gym but also code on the computer. He grilled some kebobs with his Russian mother, who said in Russian that he is only allowed to kiss Rachel on the cheek.

-Mohit is a startup guy, so I am assuming he must be really good at ping pong. He likes to bollywood dance with his family, and they all seemed like a fun family to be around.

-Lucas, aka Whaboom! I respect his dedication to the brand, but he’s going to have an aneurysm shaking his head that aggressively one day, and I don’t want to witness it on my television screen.

-Blake says he’s a personal trainer but his bio says drummer boy, so I already can’t trust him. Blake claims that since working out increases his testosterone, he is great at sex. I’m sorry but I don’t care about his (probably small) penis.

-Diggy is a nickname this man (I don’t know his real name) received after someone complimented his style. “Hey, I like your digs,” they said. Some may say having 500 pairs of shoes is materialistic, but Carrie Bradshaw would say it’s a lifestyle.

-Josiah probably had the most heartbreaking story. At age seven he cut his dead brother down from the rope he used to hang himself. As a troubled youth, he decided to get into crime and was arrested at age 12 for burglary. He was inspired by the people who helped him turn his life around, so he became just like them. Now he is a prosecuting attorney at the same center that helped him. How can that story not warm up your heart?

The Squad Gets Back Together

Usually the show brings in former Bachelorettes to give advice to the new one. Instead, they brought in some of Rachel’s friends from The Bachelor like Whitney, who tried to convince us that she actually knows how to speak. I for one am not buyin’ it.

The robot pretending to be Whitney said she heard the second guy Rachel met on After The Final Rose has bad intentions. It was either Blake or Greg. I am unsure.

This is Raven adorably getting emotional when discussing Rachel’s journey to find love.

Imagine Rachel did get to meet the former Bachelorettes, though? Her, Andi and Kaitlyn could all go into a corner and talk shit about Nick Viall. I would love to be a fly on that wall.

Limo Entrances

I am going to discuss ones that deserve discussing. Obviously the first person out the limo is typically a big interest of the lead and that person usually (not always) plays a big part in the season. Let’s meet first-out-the-limo guy and everyone else worth talking about:

Peter, aka “Daddy,” was first out the limo. I normally wouldn’t like a guy wearing an outfit that belongs on a waiter in Las Vegas, but Peter can wear anything. I just want to thank him for existing.

He looks like a movie star from the 1940s. Is this love at first sight?

Bryan went up to Rachel and started speaking Spanish. Apparently he’s a Columbian guy who called himself “trouble.” I’m into it, and apparently so is Rachel.

Will came out the limo as Steve Urkel, slipped on the ground and said “Oh, did I do that?” He ran back into the limo and came back out as Stefan Urquelle. It was probably the most creative limo entrance ever. Rachel got the reference right away because she’s Rachel. Will is probably already in love.

Fred had the most hilarious entrance I’ve ever seen. Rachel was his camp counselor 15 years ago, so he brought out a yearbook and showed old pictures of him and Rachel. Rachel said Fred was a bad kid growing up. Most people get friendzoned at some point in their lives. Some even get sexzoned. Fred, however, got campzoned. What will it take to get Fred out of the camp zone? Stay tuned...

Jonathan, in typical ticklemonster fashion, tickled Rachel. Apparently he is a doctor in real life. I feel like tickling someone is some sort of violation. Like I said earlier, we will see this guy on the sex offender registry in due time.

Alex came in with a vacuum and I literally JUST understood his reference as I am typing it out. His entrance was an homage to Rachel dancing while vacuuming in her video package on The Bachelor. Well played, sir, well played.

Matt wore a penguin outfit and was quite adorable. He explained that penguins mate for life, which is what he says he wants to do. He said he’s gonna “waddle right into her heart.”

Mohit used the most basic best man wedding speech in existence as his opening line. If you didn’t work at a wedding hall for three years and haven’t heard this at basically every wedding ever, let me explain. Almost every best man at a wedding has the groom put his hand over his wife’s hand. He then says “This is the last time you will ever have the upper hand in the relationship. Enjoy it.” Negative 10 points for originality.

Lucas, the Whaboom! guy, was all sorts of extra. First he rolled down the window with a megaphone and did his best Bruce Buffer impression. I didn’t want to know that Lucas has one testicle bigger than the other, but now I do. What will I do with this source of information? Suppress it, probably. Lucas then shows us what Whaboom! really means, and it’s not pretty. Let’s just say there’s a reason why Lucas looks like he is recovering from a stoke. Whabooming! is a violent activity.

My reaction after witnessing what a Whaboom! is.

The Goings On In The Mansion

Some worthwhile observations...

Blake is clearly this season’s villain and Whaboom! guy is the token weirdo for the first few episodes. Blake’s presence already annoys me. He’s no Chad. Chad was at least funny.

Mohit took one for the team and was the one who got completely hammered on night one. He was so drunk that he grabbed someone else's drink out of their hand and started drinking it.

Josiah, Alex and DeMario have already developed a friendship. I hereby name them the “Goon Squad” for being a bunch of clowns. DeMario keept calling Rachel his future wife and Josiah was announcing that he probably will get the first impression rose. I believe at one point Josiah asked, “Who has had time with my wife?” Alex is just guilty by association.

Fred by far had the best interaction with Rachel:

Rachel: “Frederick. I can’t”

Fred: “Yeah, you can.”

Rachel says she knew Fred as a third grader and can’t get past that memory. If the guy is hot enough, I think she could do it. If she can’t get past it, that probably means she’s not interested and Fred will remain forever in the Campzone.

Bryan pulled Rachel to the side to have a private talk. Right out the bat, Bryan tells her he is 37 years old, wants something serious and doesn’t want to waste her time. Oh, he also says “I’m good with my hands.” Ya know, because he’s a chiropractor.

Just showing some appreciation for Bryan’s face.

The two were flirting back and forth. It felt really genuine like they met at a bar or something. Bryan just went for it and grabbed her face to give her an aggressive face readjustment. A+ for grabbing her face like that. You go, Glen Coco.

Peter said in an ITM that he likes Rachel because they both have a gap in their teeth and honestly that is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. He brought chocolate from Wisconsin for her and she confessed that she didn’t like chocolate but said she would eat it anyway. Why? Because Peter is fine as hell so you gotta do what you gotta do.

I also observed that Kenny is hilarious. For example, this line: “If she chooses Whaboom! guy, we need to re-examine what we think is fly.”

When the time comes for Rachel to give out her first impression rose, she doesn’t give it to the over-confident Josiah, she gives it to Bryan. They kiss again with a hammered Mohit accidentally witnessing the entire thing.

Here’s a shot of them kissing that didn’t look like Bryan’s tongue was searching for the Chamber of Secrets down Rachel’s throat.

Good thing Mohit was blackout drunk so he was likely physically incapable of snitching. Too bad Bryan later snitches on himself on the Ellen date.

Rose Ceremony

The first rose is always super important. That person usually plays a big part in the season.

Peter got the first rose. This, on top of him being first out of the limo, is pretty big. Producers are pushing Peter on us hard.

Will aka Stefan got the second rose. Soft-spoken Jack Stone got the third. I think Anthony, the deep-thinking bald guy, got the fourth rose.

Producers picked Whaboom! guy to stay to 1. entertain us and 2. piss off Blake. I’m just scared Lucas is going to hurt his neck Whabooming! At least Bryan will be there to work his chiropractor magic if need be. Imagine getting adjusted by Bryan? There is no way I’d be able to relax.

By the time several of the guys get eliminated, it’s daylight outside. It looks like it’s around noon.

Blake K. the hot asian went home. Apparently he asked to leave early because his grandfather is sick. Dammit, ABC, put him on Paradise. He might be too good for the show, but I still need to see more of him.

Grant, the ugly Dan Humphrey also went home.

Follow me on twitter, @thebachdiaries

Another eliminated guy cried about how he spent so much money on outfits and now no one will be able to see them. It was kind of funny but, I hate that I was able to relate to this so much.

So there you have it folks. The real fun starts on Monday once the group dates are underway. I also promise the upcoming recaps won’t be the length of a short novel. I need to get back into my blogging groove.

Prediction Corner: Top 5

Peter

Bryan

Kenny

Will

Jack Stone

Who do you think will get the 1-on-1 next week?

#the bachelorette #rachel lindsay #chris harrison #abc #photo credit: ABC

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introvertsguild · 8 years ago

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To Yourself

If you say yes, prison will just be a leaf in the wind...

(For myself. I’ve been told I have to exercise 5 times a week by a local doctor and she’ll see me in a month. What better way to get motivated than thinking Blackwatch Commander Reyes is mentally kicking your ass?)

(I’d cry myself to sleep every night if he was in charge of me good lordBUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT)

(Also, any constructive critic on the writing is greatly appreciated! Especially the writing on Gabe).

Your mind is still racing around the fact that the police haven’t hauled you off to some prison already.

You’re sitting there, hands cuffed behind your back on the metal fold-out chair they were so kindly to give you, as one beef cake of an officer told you before he threw your ass inside the interrogators room. You look to the large one-sided window, knowing there was someone on the other side staring right back at you and mocking you. You gather the saliva in your mouth before spitting it on the ground, glaring at the window. For you, asshole.

You’re getting that anxiety again, you don’t know how long you’ve been in this damn room, or if anyone is outside ready to come in and tell you with a smile on their face. You feel tightness in your chest, your head spinning. You feel something is wrong, way wrong, the same questions swim in your head. How long has it been? Is it daylight out? How long has it been, how long has it been..

How long, how long, how long, how long-

Just as you’re ready to throw your head back and scream, the door flies open and hits the wall behind it with enough force to put a small dent into it, making you jump. You hear an irritated grunt coming from outside the room but it’s quickly snuffed out by the gloved hand that slams the door shut.

A tall man, tan and with too many scars on his face to count stands before you with a file in his hand. He doesn’t look at you, his stance is strong, intimidating and dominant. The file comes down on the metal table with a thwap as he grabs the other chair behind him and has a seat, acting like he’s ready to talk about the weather with his nonchalant attitude.

His beanie covers his entire head but he look up to his face and see he’s got the most chocolate colored eyes you’ve ever seen. He’s got a mustache and a goatee, keeping it trimmed most of the time, you think. His clothes look military, black and fit to form his giant muscles that look like they yearn for freedom from their binds. A belt here, another one there, god how many did this guy need? Some of them had shot gun bullets on them, strapped in tight.

“You”

You don’t look up. Were you intimidated? Why, you thought, who the hell needs to be?

“Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you, niña”

You get a boost of courage, you didn’t know all the Spanish in the world but ‘girl’ was something you knew. You shoot your head up to look up and see he’s glaring right into you. No. Probably right in your soul.

“The fuck YOU want, huh!?”, you snap at the stranger. He immediately stands and comes right at you with his fists clenched at his sides, soon he's reaching out and grabbing the chair and you. You struggle with the bonds, gritting your teeth with eyes glaring back at him. You begin to scream, kicking your legs up and trying to kick him.

“Calm the fuck down, niña! Antes de atarme las piernas!”, he’s gripping your shoulder so tightly you think your bones will break.

“FUCK OFF! DON’T TOUCH ME!”, you’re yelling and raging ensue before you are slamming up against the table, closer than you were before to it. The force of the slam makes you grunt and he’s towering over you, grabbing your legs. You let out a blood curdling scream this time, thinking he’s going to rape you. You begin hyperventilating, the edges of your vision going blurry. This is what he was here for! you think, mind screaming, tears running down your face as he still holds on to you.

Before you know it, he’s off of you and backs away. You glare up at him, eyes burning from the tears running down your face. You take aim for his crotch but suddenly feel your legs restricted by something metallic. You keep struggling and yelling, resisting the urge to fall silent. He stands there with an eyebrow raised, his muscular arms crossed against his chest.

In the midst of your cries, he speaks, “I got all night, niña, you best shut up and stop your crying before I shut that mouth up too”. After a few seconds of saying that, you bite lip, snorting hot air out of your nose. You want to keep screaming, cry for help, anything, this is all too much for you. A strange man you’ve never met before just waltz in, cuffs your legs to the chair and glares at you like all the other officers in the building.

He leans back against the wall, checking his fake watch on his wrist with a bored sigh, like he lost all interest suddenly.

You shut your eyes and dip your head down, wishing to be anywhere far from here. This fucking guy is an asshole and you just want out. The tears streaming your face start to plop on to the concrete floor- plip, plip, plip.

“Tch, why are YOU crying? Got somethin’ in your eyes, niñita?”

Another insult.

“ANSWER ME!”

The roar makes you jump in your seat, you shake your head. He growls, suddenly very close to you. You glance up to see his ear and hand in your face, he’s holding his ear up to you.

“What was that? Didn’t catch a goddamn word”

“N-No..”, you sniffle and feel a little smaller and more embarrassed. You see him bend down, his hands on his hips. “That’s fucking ‘Sir’ to you, niñita”, before he raises back up and walks over to the table, grabbing the file and opening it.

“Puntura..? Stupid name, if you ask me”, Oh really? Never thought to ask YOU, “Raised by your grandma Lima, grandpa Jeremiah and older brother August in Patras, Greece..”

What!?

Your eyes go wide for a second, he starts naming your family members, the street you grew up on, the friend you had as a child, the cat you held when you were sad. He starts getting deeper; your anxiety, your personality, the small jobs you took on when your grandmother died of cancer on February 4th, 2058. He’s getting closer to your other jobs, the other ones where you had to make Bee Stings for local snipers in some gang that paid you to make the venom. You shake your head, telling him to stop. He keeps talking. Your fingers clench so hard your knuckles turn white, you snarl and start yelling at him again to. Just. Stop!

“STOP! Stop it! Stop talking about.. Me! My life! What the fuck do you know, asshole!?”

He closes the file, slapping it back on the table. He glares at you, pointing a finger at you.

“I told you to shut it! I’ll just leave you in here with the lights off, niñita, you want that? I got your FEARS in here, girl”, he thrusts a finger to the door, “I’ll walk out of here with the lights out, letting you scream and scream until you can’t talk anymore then maybe I’ll consider coming back in or maybe..”

He leans over the table, he’s so close to your face you can smell the cigarettes he smoked today, before coming in to see you.

“I’ll let the officers take you out to a prison where you can rot, get raped and no one can hear your cries from the closed off stone walls in your fucking prison cell. You’ll be NOTHING, you’ll be just another sex toy for the prison-”

“Stop it! Stop talking! I get it, okay!? Fucking christ! Don’t need to.., “ you catch your breath, “To talk about that shit.. Damn..”, you were shivering. The tears were long gone and only seething rage was left inside. You were scared, scared out of your mind as to what he might do at that moment. You turn your head away from his scarred face, those eyes burning into you like coal.

He doesn’t say anything, still at your face, “The.. The fuck you want anyway? You’re not an officer, you’re not them..”, your words dripping venom.

“Well, congratulations she doesn’t say something stupid for once!”, he gives a slow clap while moving back. You roll your eyes, that was totally unnecessary. You’re annoyed but he doesn’t care. He takes his chair again, this time turning it around and sitting in it backwards. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a cigarette pack. He smacks it against his arm before pulling out one white stick with his teeth and lighting it with a black lighter.

You sighed, annoyed even more. He was taking his sweet time. You thought of all the scenarios that ran through your mind at that moment. He inhales the chemicals, glancing at you, smirks then blowing the smoke right in your face. It catches you off guard and you try holding in your breath before you accidentally breathe in a little and start coughing. You hear him laugh and take another smoke. You can’t bat the air away with your hands and it pisses you off.

“So.. tell me, niñita-”

“Don’t call me that”

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want, nin-ni-TA”

You growl, he just glares and taps the ashes on the desk.

“How did you make the Bee Stings? It’s not an artsy hobby, I can guess that much”

The Bee Stings.. Or ‘tsimpímata’ as your client called them. They were the opposite of those rejuv packs their small company made. They were death in a syringe. They were lethal poisonous liquid bullets that took your victim out within minutes. The lungs were attacked first, sucking the air from your body as slowly as possible while blood began to boil in your throat. The feeling of choking on your vomit over the toilet. Soon, every orifice in your head bled until your heart shut down from the shock and damage.

You had seen pictures of the victims, their faces covered in their own blood, their clothes stained. You were tired of those emails coming in of the attachments with dead bodies, sometimes there were rows. You were paid a mighty fine sum of money, fifty grand a tube. You shake your head, “Tch”.

“Better speak up, niña.. Before I have to go..”

“There’s nothing I can really tell you without my head getting blown off..”, you look to the right of you, remembering two people in purple busting your door down and threatening you with your own concoction that they would kill you if you ever told anyone about the Bee Stings. “I can’t tell.. They’ll fucking kill me, they’ll take turns like that stupid idiot said..”, you remember the numerous emails you got too about how they had a bunch of hungry men looking for attention at their base. You shivered, shaking off the memory.

“Tut, tut, tut..” was all that left him before he grabbed your file and headed for the door. Your eyes went wide as saucers, your head shook, “No, no, nononono! Please! PLEASE! Wait!”

He’s out the door, the lights are out and you’re back to hyperventilating and crying within seconds.

The darkness consumes you. you're in the black void with no light coming out from the other side of that door. You cry, you struggle, you scream and kick against the chair.

“T-the emails! The fucking emails! The GOD DAMN EMAILS! PLEASE!”

Inhaling and exhaling grows longer, you can’t tell your vision gets blurry again, you can’t see a thing. It’s dark, it’s too dark. You’re having an all out anxiety attack, the breathing gets harsher, your throat wheezing out every breath. You think you’ll pass out, wake up in a prison cell and your life will be over.

Until the lights blink on, footsteps are heard but you don’t process them. The light shines too bright, you think you’re blind until the blurriness comes back and black fills your vision. You hadn’t passed out though, you’re still there in the room.

“Hey! Hey, hey.. Breathe, breathe..”, he begins rubbing your back, gentle and soft. He’s comforting you in your vulnerable state. You can’t think straight, you can’t breathe like he says. He shakes his head, cursing in Spanish.

“Escucha que tienes esto, solo relájate... Look,” He puts his hands on either side of your face, covering your ears while bringing your eyes up to meet his. “Breathe in”, you try the first time but cough, you can hardly do anything. He repeats himself, shushing you, speaking to you in gentle Spanish and English words. The second time, you take in a deep inhale.

“Good, good.. Now hold it”

You hold it, your face red from tears and exhaustion. He nods, “Breathe out..”

You let out the air and you’re told to do that five or six times before your whole body shudders, shoulders relaxing, heart stops racing.. Your attack is over. Normal breathing but the shivering doesn’t stop.

The man who kept you in here lets go of you, his face almost turning into something sympathetic until it goes away forever. You can finally breathe normally, the strength in you gone, turned to dust. You look down at your shirt, seeing wet spots where your tears fell. It’s like a little mini rainstorm happened there.

It’s silent. There’s no stupid wise-crack, no joke being said. You had stopped crying a while ago. You glance at the military dude and sigh, exhausted from the bullshit you just went through.

Suddenly you feel a presence behind you, a clack of metal and you feel your wrists no longer bound. They drop to your sides, sore from being behind you this whole time. You shudder again, letting out a shaky breath. He’s facing you now, kneeling down as he uncuffs your legs. He backs up, having both pair of cuffs on his fingers.

You rotate your ankles and wrists, putting the feel back in them again. You nod to yourself, closing your eyes and reconnecting to the real world. He set you free, he took them off. You’re surprised, a confusing look on your face as he shifts his weight against the table.

“You good, pequeño?”, this time that word sounds endearing, like he was calling you something less offensive. You give a slight nod, “Y-Yes, sir..”, you manage to get out. You didn’t want to say it. You had been angry before, scared of him and now he had just brought you back from a high attack on your mind and body. It was strange what he had done. He heard your cries and pleas, came running back in to bring you out of the dark.

He pats your shoulder, you flinch at the touch as you were expecting more rough treatment. He doesn’t say anything, clearing his throat before taking the other chair to sit it in front of you. He sits down.

“Ready to explain?”, his voice is serious, firm yet again. You nod, sitting up slowly to look into his eyes. You shake your head, clearing it before speaking.

“Bee Sting was created by another chemist in the company who contacted me.. I’m being honest, I don’t know who they’re called but they emailed me, made me a deal and gave me fifty grand a pop for those tubes of the lethal shit..”, goosebumps run across your back, you cross your arms and rub your hands along them. The man across from you takes out a cigarette and offers you it.

You shake your head, “I-If it was a joint, I’d accept.. Thanks though..”, your damn voice still shakes. You’re embarrassed. Stop fucking stuttering.

“Heh, good.. A nasty habit to have..”, he puts the stick in his mouth and lights it. This time he turns his head away until your out of shot and blows it at the window. He’s being nice. You want to question it but stop. You can’t go through that bullshit again. “Keep going..”, he says.

“I made the liquid.. Learned the chemistry, got the equipment with the money saved up..”, you notice the smoke wafting through the room, “It was.. A commissioned poison.. I made it, I made it to how they wanted their victims to die..”. You sigh, your leg now shaking. You couldn’t get over this stupid tick even if you tried.

You look up, expecting shock, horror, bewilderment on the grown man’s face. It’s not there and you’re confused all over again. You stop yourself, better save your breath. He’s just nodding, tapping the ashes from the cigarette, “Mhm..Right..”, he crosses his arms.

“What’d you do with the money?”

“I sent half to my brother, he’s got his own family now.. A baby girl.. named Felicia”, the image of her brown curls turns your lips into a half smile but it doesn’t last long. “I haven’t spoken to them since.. The.. The Omnic Crisis”.

“Your file said you were a mile from the blasts.. How’d you get out?”

“I thought this was about the-”

“Answer the question”, his voice is a little deeper. His eyes are cold, still as a rock in the water.

“The Army, they came in and evacuated everyone and we were sent into Vola ..”, you remember the screams, the sounds. Explosions and more screams, the sounds make you itch the back of your head. Your eyes glaze over as your lured deeper and deeper into those awful memories, a snap of his fingers brings you back. “Hey, pay attention”.

“I, uh.. I got money from my grandpa and was given my own apartment with the money, I stopped working a regular nine to five and started learning chemistry, it was so easy.. Just learning that shit, you know? I don’t know how I know it, I just do..”, you shake your head. “I couldn’t believe these people paid me FIFTY grand to do something so.. So dangerous, so vile.. I questioned it one time over an email and they said, “This is for the good of the people of Greece, to weed them out”.. I have no idea what that means..”.

Soon your head is pounding, like a drop of color in the water, then spreading inward. And suddenly, after what it felt like hours being inside that room; A question hits you and you can’t stop yourself from asking it aloud.

“What’s your name?”

The barrel chested man puts it cigarette out on the table, standing up and motions you to stand up as well. You stand quickly, maybe a little too quickly for your liking.

“You ever hear of Overwatch, kid?”

The name is familiar, it’s a name that has meaning. You’ve heard of the Overwatch and the heroes who’d do anything to save the innocent. You suddenly suspect he’s a part of it. Your eyes are curious, your head swimming with questions again.

“I’m Gabriel Reyes.. Second-in-Command, but more importantly I’m in charge of Blackwatch, the spec ops of Overwatch” he tells you and suddenly it hits you.

You’re not just standing in front of some ‘military guy’, you’re standing at a living, breathing legend. Your voice is gone, air trapped in your throat. You’re both staring at each other in the eye. You’re looking inside him to see if this was a joke. A stupid, cruel prank. You see all seriousness, two eyes telling you he isn’t fucking around.

It’s really him and you want to cry. You want to hug him and tell him that him and the people of Overwatch saved your family from death. You step back, thinking better of it as his body language indicates that he isn’t the hugging type.

“W-What… Why.. What… Are you doing here?”, you’re almost speechless, you can’t think and want to lie down. The wind pushed you over the cliff.

“Well, sunshine, I’m here to recruit you”

“What!?”, that came out too fast and you wonder if he’ll get mad and yell but he doesn’t. You’re searching for answers. “You..”, you sigh, “You can’t be serious, this is a joke!” you turn away from him, pacing the room now.

“No, no, no.. This is wrong, I’m not.. Spec ops? Like… What!?”

Gabe shakes his head and chuckles, finding your freak out funny. You can’t see what’s so damn funny, this guy was asking you of all people to be a part of the biggest peace maker organizations in your life. You shake your head, “I’m fucking dreaming.. This..”

“You’re not ‘fucking dreaming’, niño, I’m telling you to join Blackwatch because of your track record.. You did more than make the lethal shit, you were a sniper in a small militia group that failed and was killed by rogue Omnics, oh yeah, don’t think I didn’t see that”

You had tried wiping memory all about that part of your life in Vola, you were considered the best sniper in the Nkremístike Apergía. You and your brother were sniper buddies, always challenging each other to kill the most Omnics and keep your militia safe. The memories come back, you block them out before you could be lured again. You look at Gabe up and down before shaking your head, still thinking this was all a dream or a cruel joke.

“You got better snipers in your team..”, you let out with a defeated sigh.

Gabe snorts, “You’re right. We did. Until he was ambushed by a few Omnics in October and killed”.

“Oh..”

“Yeah, ‘Oh’ is right, niño.. That’s why I’m giving you a chance. A chance to redeem yourself, a chance to stop gettin’ paid by this dumbass company and probably put an end to them”.

It was still real and happening. An offer. From Gabriel Reyes himself. Who works at Overwatch and Blackwatch- you hadn’t heard of Blackwatch until it came out of his mouth. You nod, not in accepting his offer but processing this crazy information. You pace again, he’s waiting for an answer but is silent about it. You stare at the walls, the table, the chair, keeping your mind leveled out and focused. If you say no, you’ll basically rot in hell with four walls..

If you say yes, prison will just be a leaf in the wind.

#Overwatch #Gabriel Reyes #Blackwatch #Reaper #oc and gabriel #different point of view #Omnics #Omnic Crisis

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