#also I ran out of the good paper this is technically borrowed

[arttsuka]

Here’s another idea:

Jed, Octavius, and their Minecraft-axolotl-turned-living-plushie Flapjack

This is flapjack, and he predates my NatM fixation

Oh to be little miniature figures kissing on an axolotl plushie

[astralkoo]

The Snack Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Genre: neighbors au, smut

Rating: 18+

Words: 6.4k

Summary: in which your annoying, younger neighbor has a nasty habit of breaking into your apartment late at night and stealing your food.

Warnings: strong language, technically breaking & entering, broke college student struggles, older!reader, Jungkook saying noona, explicit sexual content; sub!jungkook, dom!reader, blowjob, kitty gets ate, sixty-nine, very mild degrading (jk gets called a slut like once), needy jk, fingering (m. receiving)

— author’s note; it’s been a minute, hasn’t it? i’ve been trying to get back into my groove so hopefully this is the start of a very active and productive summer for my writing. also! this is cross posted on my new wattpad account bckupbabies so if you see it on there, that’s me don’t worry!

You woke with a start, heart pounding, skin drenched in cold sweat, fear gripping at your chest.

There's someone in your apartment.

It was a split second realization, one that ripped you violently from the gentle thralls of sleep and had thick, stifling terror settling like heavy stones in your gut. Sucking your lips into your mouth to prevent your breath from coming out too audibly, you strained your ears, listening carefully. At first, all you could make out was the soft whirring of the fan above your head. But then—

Thud.

In an instant, you were out from beneath the covers, a shiver rushing down your spine as the cold night air nipped at the exposed skin of your arms and legs. Instinctively, your hand shot to the nightstand, rushing over the smooth wood surface, seeking out your phone. Only— it wasn't there. Shit. You must've accidentally left it on the counter last night. Shit.

Gritting your teeth, you stumbled through the darkness, bracing a steadying palm against the wall to guide yourself across the bedroom.

"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" You hissed, searching blindly for the item you're always sure to keep near your bedside in case of a situation just like this. It didn't take long before your fingers grazed the smooth rubber grip of your old-reliable baseball bat. You let out a cautious exhale and moved silently towards the door, careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak.

Keeping your back against the wall, you stepped into the short hall. You could hear more clearly without the separation of your bedroom door; the heavy footsteps and low grumbling voice. It wasn't just your sleep hazed mind playing a nasty trick; there was someone in your goddamn apartment. A combination of fear and rage heated the blood currently rushing through your veins, the thundering of your pulse almost deafening in your ears.

Another loud bang sounded through your apartment and your shoulders tensed.

Were they even trying to be quiet? What a shitty burglar. They should've done their research before busting in. You were a broke college student working at a freaking campus cafe just barely able to afford paying your rent every month. The most valuable thing in your apartment was probably the ultra soft two ply toilet paper you'd splurged on last time you went shopping for basic necessities.

And you'd be sure to bash the bastard's head in before he could lay his greedy fingers on your precious two ply.

Letting out your fiercest battle cry, you swung your bat over your head and launched yourself out from behind the wall, poised for the attack. The man in your kitchen, who was elbow deep in your snack cabinet, shrieked (incredibly un-burglar-like, you might add). The sound was so high pitched and sharp that you flinched, startled as he whirled around clumsily, not only banging his elbows but tripping over his own feet in the process. You were barely able to catch a glimpse of his face before he fell, disappearing behind the counter.

But something about that scream was vaguely... familiar?

"Jungkook?"

The top of his head peeked out from behind the countertop, familiar doe eyes blinking back at you sheepishly. "Hi, noona."

The tension in your shoulders immediately melted upon realizing that you in fact not being robbed by an armed lunatic— rather, you were being robbed by your annoying next door neighbor. Again.

"Are you out of your mind?!" You hissed sharply, frustration flaring, "it's fucking three in the morning! Why the hell are you in my apartment?"

"I was hungry!"

"That doesn't explain why you're here!"

"I was craving ramyeon but I ran out! And– and you always have extra anyway so I thought you wouldn't mind!"

"Ha! You thought I wouldn't mind—" You gritted your teeth, on the verge of seething when you noticed he was still ducked behind the counter. "Why are you still hiding? Get over here." So I can beat your ramyeon stealing ass, you added in your head.

"Drop the bat— then we can talk." He bargained, nodding pointedly towards your weapon, still poised for attack.

Grunting, you reluctantly released the handle, letting it fall to the floor with a sharp clang.

Jungkook let out a low breath of relief, before meekly stepping out from his position behind the counter. Your eyes immediately dropped to his hands, still desperately clutching onto two packets of ramyeon.

Pinning him with a glare meant to reprimand, you crossed your arms firmly over your chest. "Jungkook, you can not keep—" your scolding was abruptly interrupted by a low, thunderous rumbling, your gaze jumping in surprise to the younger boy's face, which was now donning an embarrassed blush. "W– was that your stomach?"

Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded, head dropping in shame.

A wave of sympathy washed over you upon realizing just how hungry he must be. Any anger at having your sleep ever so rudely disrupted quickly fizzled out, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as he shuffled his feet shyly.

"Geez, this brat." You muttered under your breath, trudging over to where he stood and snatching the ramyeon packets from his grasp. He looked up at you with wide, pitiful eyes, and you could tell he thought that you were going to kick him to the curb. Instead, you jerked your chin into the direction of the couch and said, "go sit down while I make these. Don't need you hovering over my damn shoulder."

It would be a lie to say your heart didn't flutter a little at the sheer amount of excitement that lit up his face, pink lips breaking into a wide, uncontainable grin. Deciding not to push his luck, he quickly bobbed his head and scampered over to the couch, tossing a bubbly, "thank you, noona!" over his shoulder as he went.

You scoffed, though the corners of your mouth tipped upwards in spite of yourself.

The kid was cute. You'd give him that much. With those big shiny eyes and that stupid bucktoothed grin. Even if he was a perpetual trespasser and a food thief to boot, you'd let his little indiscretions slide... for now.

The ramyeon didn't take long to make, but, even all the way across the room, you could practically hear Jungkook's stomach growling up a storm by the time you were pouring it into two separate bowls. He was squirming on the couch, peaking over the back of it with wide, wanting eyes, damn near drooling at the mere smell of the sodium soaked noodles.

"Don't spill," you warned with a click of your tongue as made your way to the couch, handing him one of the bowls, "eat this, then go home, alright?"

Jungkook was already stuffing his cheeks before you'd even finished speaking, but he paused to pout over at you upon processing your words. "Noona..." he gurgled in soft whine around his mouth full of noodles, making sure to swallow before he finished, "why do you want me to leave so badly? You're hurting my feelings."

You scoffed as he pressed a large hand to his chest, wincing dramatically as if your words had somehow truly wounded him. "Do I have to remind you that it's 3am? I was sleeping. I would like to go back to sleep. I was having a very good dream before you fucking broke in to my apartment and tried to rob me." You hissed, plopping down on the couch beside him and shoveling your ramyeon into your own mouth.

Damn. That shit was good.

"I wasn't robbing you." He protested weakly. You raised an unconvinced brow.  "Just... borrowing."

You barked out a laugh. "Oh? So you were planning to return all the snacks you were about to steal?" His eyes lowered, a guilty pout turning the corners of his mouth downwards. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Still..." he grumbled bitterly, looking up at you through his thick lashes. "I'm much more fun than sleep."

You snorted. "I beg to differ."

There was an uncharacteristic lull of silence, and you spared a questioning glance in Jungkook's direction, not expected to be greeted by the astonished expression painted across his face.

He looked... genuinely offended.

"Noona," he sounded rather distraught as he set his half eaten bowl down on the coffee table before turning his body fully towards you, "how could you say that?"

Your brows lifted expectantly, confusion swimming in your gaze. "What?" You laughed lightly, not understanding why he suddenly seemed upset. You were just joking around... had you accidentally hit a nerve?

"You have fun with me." He insisted once more, a certain desperation to his words.

"Yeah... when it's not 3am."

"Liar." He scowled, gaze dropping to where his fingers were tracing miscellaneous shapes on the fabric of your couch. "That's when you have the most fun with me."

His voice had dropped into a low whisper at that last part, so you had to strain your ears a bit to make out exactly what it was he was saying. At first, you were confused. The most fun...? But then you saw the faint blush coating his cheeks, the shy fluttering of his lashes, the nervous fidgeting of his fingers...

And it clicked.

A few weeks ago, you did something stupid. Something you shouldn't have done. You'd given into urges that should have remained buried deep, deep inside of you.

"Jungkook." Your voice held a warning pitch as you growled his name. He shuddered ever so faintly at the shift in your tone and quickly turned away from you, snagging his lower lip tightly between his teeth.

"It's true..." he grumbled petulantly, kicking his foot lightly against the leg of your coffee table.

You stared at his profile through furrowed brows, gaze hard and unwavering as you set your own bowl onto the table. "We talked about this, Jungkook. We agreed not to bring it up again!"

"No, you— you made that decision all on your own." He protested quickly, thrusting an accusing finger in your direction. "I made no such promise."

"Jungkook," you sighed heavily, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your fingers into your temples as they throbbed, "what I did—"

"We," he corrected, leveling you with a stubborn glare, "what we did. Stop acting like I wasn't a willing participant."

"You're a kid—"

"I'm nineteen! I can make my own decisions!"

"No. You can't."

At that, his expression hardened, lips pursing, fingers curling into tight fists, eyes flaring with determination.

"Watch me."

In the next second he was on top of you, straddling your lap, large hands cradling your jaw as he pressed his warm lips purposefully to yours.

Startled, your hands leapt to hold his waist, instinctively steadying him. The rest of your body remained stiff and unresponsive, frozen in shock from the sheer unexpectedness of the kiss. It wasn't until Jungkook let out a soft, pleading whine against your unmoving mouth that you were kickstarted back into motion.

"Jungkook," you gasped out his name, somewhat more breathlessly than you intended, hands rushing between your bodies to push him away by the swells of his firm chest, "w–what are you—"

"You want me." The younger boy swiftly interrupted, his warm breath caressing your lips as his fingers gripped gently at the back of your neck. "You want me. You can't deny it. You said so."

You were goddamn dizzy. "When did I—"

"Fuck, Jungkook. You have no idea how long I've wanted this. How long I've wanted you." It took you an extra second to realize that he was quoting back your words from that night. Word for fucking word. Heat rushed to your face, your hand gripping harder at the thin fabric of his top.

"How do you even remember that." You grumbled bitterly, embarrassed at having been called out.

The corner of his mouth curled into a small, teasing smile. "I have a pretty good memory."

"Bullshit," you scoffed, "I can't count the number of times you've forgotten to bring back the shit that you 'borrowed' from me. I bet you have a fucking closet full of my sweatshirts."

"I didn't forget... I just didn't want to give them back." He informed you in a soft, lilting hum, running his thumb over the smooth cut of your jaw.

"Thief." You spat, but the word lacked any real fire. It sounded weak on your tongue, a soft fluttering of breath that easily could have been mistaken for a moan. You saw his eyes drop to your mouth, desire pooling within them, so thick and dark that you felt it polluting the air around you, polluting your lungs with every jagged inhale.

He shifted on top of you, strong thighs squeezing around your hips. You tried to pretend that you didn't feel the press of something hot and hard against the top of your leg, but the tremble of your eyes and the clench of your fingers were not easily mistaken.

Jungkook sunk his teeth into the delicate flesh of his lower lip, and your gaze followed the motion unconsciously. You didn't even realize you were staring at his mouth until he spoke in that low, hoarse whisper, ripping you violently from your trance.

"Can I take a little more?"

Your brain was screaming at you to say no, screaming at you to not be selfish, to not be greedy. To not want something so terribly that you felt it trembling through your very bones. You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. He was too young, too naive, too sensitive. You'd break the poor boy before he even realized what happened.

You should say no.

Mind made up, you opened your mouth, fully prepared to reject the boy and put a stop to whatever the hell this had become, right then and there. You were prepared to be the responsible senior that you needed to be, for both his sake and yours.

But what actually came out was something entirely different.

"Yes."

Jungkook barely had time to let out a happy whimper before his mouth was back on yours. A soft groan rumbled in your chest as your arms curled around his slim waist, tugging him ever closer. Long fingers tangled in your hair, he gently tugged your head back, leaning himself over you in order to deepen the kiss. You permitted him to do so without resistance, lips parting to allow his eager tongue to invade your mouth.

His body was hot and heavy above yours, but you didn't mind the added weight, the pressure on your thigh probably the only thing keeping you grounded. Because the heat between your legs was a anything but grounding. Sticky and wet, an accumulation of unspoken need and neglected lust that refused to be ignored for even a moment longer. A bleary haze fell over your mind, all the blood in your head suddenly rushing downwards to feed the growing flames in your groin.

The first roll of his hips was so minute, so slight that you would have missed it completely had it not been for the soft, airy moan that escaped his throat. The second was less than subtle, a hard, deliberate grind that rocked his already half-hard erection against your stomach. You felt it there, where your shirt had ridden up to expose a thin strip of skin, the front of his sweatpants growing thick and damp with his steadily increasing arousal. Your grip around him tightened, nails biting into his clothed hips hard enough to have crimson flowers blossoming across his golden flesh.

The sting coaxed a strained moan from Jungkook's inflamed lips, the rolling of his hips growing more frantic. You were quick to steady them, not wanting him to overexcite himself too soon.

"Calm down." Even in your own ears, you voice sounded thick and unstable, and you silently cursed yourself for having gotten so worked up by a mere kiss. But, in your defense, it was one hell of a kiss.

"I'm calm." He insisted unconvincingly through harsh pants, fighting for oxygen but not willing to pull away from you lips long enough to actually breathe. Quite the dilemma.

You chuckled softly, sliding a hand up to grip his jaw, preventing his mouth from finding yours for just long enough to soothe the fierce burn in your lungs. He took that opportunity to strip himself of his top, tossing it haphazardly to the floor.

You felt your stomach tighten, taken off guard by the unexpectedly display of glowing, sun-kissed skin you found before you, stretched across thick, toned muscle that flexed and tightened with even the most minuscule of movements. Subconsciously, your tongue slipped out of your suddenly dry mouth, dragging over your swollen lips.

Jungkook mimicked the motion, reaching down with ink embroidered hands to grip your wrists, gently guiding them up the length of his fit torso. "Touch me." It was a plea, the low whimper lacing the words a dead giveaway of his unyielding desperation.

You didn't hesitate to comply.

Pushing forward, you set vengeful teeth upon his prominent collarbone, biting down just hard enough to leave your mark. He moaned loudly, head falling back as your nails raked over his sensitive nipples. A violent shiver transversed his body, goosebumps rippling across his exposed skin that was set on fire by your greedy touch. He found the back of your head and neck with trembling hands, urging you closer without use of words. You kissed up the length of his taut throat, sucking and licking until you were content with the colorful array of bruises you'd left in your wake.

"Kiss me." You whispered against the defined curve of his jaw, wanting another taste of those pretty little lips. His head dropped forward obediently, mouth open and ready to be received by you. Fuck, he looked so hot from that angle; dark, hooded eyes pooling with lust so deep you could drown it it, kissable, rose petal lips glistening and swollen and just begging for attention, full cheeks flushed a dangerous shade of red that only enticed you further.

How could he look so ruined? You hadn't even touched his dick yet.

The thought roused a scoff in the back of your throat, and Jungkook pulled back slightly at the sound. "What?" He asked, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

"Nothing..." you grinned lazily, before kissing him slowly, deeply, lustfully; kissing him in such a way that the poor boy was trembling in your lap, gasping and whining by the time you pulled away with a lewd smack, lips wet and stained an erotic crimson. You chuckled as he swallowed, pupils blow and unfocused. Reaching up, you cupped his chin, rolling your thumb over his lower lip. He sighed, eyes fluttering as he teased the tip of the digit with his tongue.

"... just wanna put your dick in my mouth."

At that, his shimmering doe eyes popped open wide, shocked— then excited.

"Don't tease me." He pleaded weakly, hips stuttering over your thighs.

You reach between your bodies, taking the time to revere the fine-tuned slopes and edges of his ridged abdomen, before finally finding the hard outline of his flushed, angry cock straining against the thick fabric of his sweats. He gasped brokenly at the contact, forehead falling against your shoulder as he gripped desperately onto your arms, dull nails digging into your biceps. You turned, smirking lips feathering over the shell of his pink tinted ear.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And then, he was on his back.

Jungkook let out a squeak of surprise, chest heaving as he attempted to process the sudden change in position. But you didn't give him the chance, slotting yourself between his spread thighs

"W– we didn't do this last time." He stuttered clumsily, staring up at you with those wide, dangerously innocent eyes that made you want to absolutely wreck him.

"No, we didn't." You confirmed, nipping lightly at one of his pert brown nipples. He jolted, letting out a low, unsteady moan of your name, a cry for your attention.

"S– sensitive, noona."

God, he is so fucking cute.

"I'll be gentle." The reassurance did little to soothe the violent thundering of his heart, the heavy thrum of it setting his every limb to shaking.

He was nervous. You could tell. Understandably.

Truth is— Jungkook was a virgin.

Key word: was.

As in, before he broke into your apartment at 3am on that fateful morning where you lost your cool because damn did you he look good in that skin tight black t-shirt that showed off those sexy tattoos and those thigh hugging black skinny jeans that squeezed his cute butt in all the right places. Of course, you didn't discover that until after the deed was done (seeing as he hadn't had the mind to tell you while your tongue was shoved halfway down his throat).

But god, you felt so guilty. You'd never taken anyone's virginity before. And you weren't so sure fucking on a kitchen counter was the most... romantic way of losing it. It had been quick, messy, all sweat and teeth and nails, the blunt edge of the cold counter digging into your ass.

Sure, it felt fucking amazing, and you'd received no complaints from Jungkook's end. But still. Had you known, you would've been... gentler. Or, at the very least, you would have had the tact to take him to bed.

You hadn't even blown him for fucks sake.

So, if you were doing this —and, as it appeared, you were most definitely doing this— then goddamnit, you were going to do it right and make up for all the things you hadn't done his first time.

You descended his body slowly, taking your sweet time licking and nibbling over all his lovely curves and sharp edges, marking the places you'd been with pink, flowering bruises. His head kicked back, mouth falling open around an onslaught of heady moans as he reveled in your unrelenting affections. Distracted, he didn't even notice you slipping his pants down his legs until the cool air hit the sensitive tip of his weeping cock.

"N– noona!" He propped himself up on his elbows, desperate to see you, to find your eyes through the disorienting cloud of lust he found himself engulfed in. Arousal spun his brain into useless mush inside of his skull at the sight of you between his legs, looking right back up at him, pretty mouth hovering just above his hard need, soft breath caressing the feverish skin.

"Relax, Jungkook. It'll feel good." You chuckled, pressing a soothing kiss to his hip.

"I– I know," he swallowed, and you didn't miss the dark blush creeping into his cheeks as his eyes fluttered shyly, "I just— I want to make you feel good... too... b- because last time you didn't..."

Last time you didn't...?

Oh.

Oh.

"Okay," you hummed simply, pushing yourself up with an easy smile, "I can think of a solution."

Jungkook watched with bated breath as you stood, damn near choking on his own spit when you abruptly shoved your pajama shorts down your legs. "N- no underwear?" He whispered, voice hoarse and strained as he stared unabashedly at the bare expanse of smooth skin between your thighs, glistening with sticky wetness.

You smirked faintly, appreciating the reverence glistening in his melting brown eyes. "For convenience sake," you teased.

He flopped down on the couch with a dramatic groan. "Fuck, you're killing me."

Leaning over the younger boy, you pressed a deep, purposeful kiss to his delicate, lovely lips, eliciting an appreciative moan from his burning chest.

"Don't worry..." you pulled back, breathing the words into his open mouth, "I'll do it slow."

"Fuck..." he squeaked.

Laughing softly, you dropped your knees to the edge of the sofa and splayed a hand over his toned stomach. He was hard and warm to the touch, and you liked the way his muscles flinched and fluttered beneath your palm.

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do," you pressed your lips to his throat, feeling the way it bobbed as he swallowed, "I'm gonna get on top of you..." you walked your fingers down towards where his dick lay, red and leaking across his belly, "and you're going to eat me out," he moaned shakily against your cheek, hands lifting to grip your arms, "while I suck your pretty little cock. How's that sound?"

"S– so good. Fuck, that sounds so fucking good." He pulled at you greedily, begging you with wide, wanting eyes.

You caved to him all too easily, carefully maneuvering your body until you were situated above him, knees planted on the cushion on either side of his head. Hot breath rushed over your exposed core, sending shivers ricocheting down your spine. Hands gripped at your thighs, rough and calloused against your skin. He was pulling again, whining out soft, shuddering "please, please, please" as he tugged at your hips, trying to get you closer. Closer.

Teasingly, you kept your hips raised, just out of reach of his ravenous mouth, so eager to steal a taste. "Noona," he whined petulantly, "don't be cruel."

Cruel? You nearly scoffed. You haven't even begun.

Regardless, you decided to end the torture there, lowering your hips until you were within his reach. He didn't let a moment pass before his tongue was on you, lapping eagerly at your wet slit. You gasped, clutching tightly onto the thick muscles of his thighs, your own legs growing weak under his relentless ministrations.

Holy shit. You didn't expect it to feel that good.

It was only when Jungkook's hips bucked beneath you, a pleading whimper vibrating through your center, that you realized you weren't fulfilling your end of the deal. Stuttering back into motion, you encircled his hard length in an unsteady hand, feeling the raw heat of it throbbing angrily within your grasp.

"You're good with your tongue, baby." You chuckled breathlessly, pumping him slowly with the help of his spilling precum. He moaned in response to the praise, long fingers digging in hard to the flesh of your ass. Another, more violent tremble wracked your body as his tongue dragged over your sensitive clit, the responding rush of pleasure pulling a low groan from your chest.

Shit, if he kept that up—

Feeling that you'd given him enough of a head start, you dipped down, swiftly engulfing his glistening tip in your lips. Jungkook gasped against you, and you could almost picture his eyes snapping wide open, jaw going slack. The blissful pressure of his tongue gave way to cold air as he tensed and shuddered beneath you, all those hard, rigid muscles turning to jelly as he processed the mind numbing sensation of your mouth around his cock. It was an unwelcome absence, and you quickly found yourself growing impatient and —shamefully enough— needy, your aching core craving attention.

But Jungkook was a mess beneath you, moaning and whining pathetically as his hips bucked and spasmed, entirely overwhelmed. His arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you so tightly you were certain you'd be feeling it tomorrow. You felt his tongue, sloppy and uncoordinated lapping at your folds with a desperation that set your blood to flames. The vibrations of his sounds resonated through your clit, and you hastened your own movement, feeling yourself clench and throb with your impending release.

You pulled off of him with a lewd pop, a thin string of saliva connecting his swollen tip to your lower lip, before sliding your hands beneath his ample thighs and tugging.

"Lift your legs for me, baby."

He obeyed immediately, feet rising from the cushion, too lost in your intoxicating taste to second guess what you were planning. At least, not until he felt your touch shifting from his thighs to his ass, and a warm, wet dribble of saliva sliding over his hole. He flinched violently, a gasp shooting from his lips at the unfamiliar sensation.

"Ah–! N- Noona, where are you touching—" he yelped, trying to sit up and catch a glimpse around the shape of your body. Swinging your ankles up to rest against his shoulders, you forced him back down, looking back at him from over your shoulder with a cocked brow and a seductive grin.

"Where do you think?" You chuckling teasingly. "Are you clean?"

"Yeah..." he whispered shyly, and you could practically feel the heat of his blush radiating against your skin as he confessed, "I– I showered before coming over..."

"Good." You slid a single finger over the ring of muscle, watching in amusement as it fluttered and clenched in response to the unsubstantial caress. "Tell me if you need me to stop, alright?"

At first he only nodded, but choked out a soft "okay" when you pinched his thigh, urging him to use his words.

Purring out a low praise, you returned to his cock, licking a thick strip from base to tip as your index slowly circled his entrance. Jungkook whined and squirmed, still trying his best to keep up with pleasuring you. It was cute, feeling and hearing him struggle.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered what kind of face he was making beneath your dripping cunt. Were his eyes rolling to the back of his head? Was his tongue hanging out of his mouth? Was his feverish skin glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your arousal? Fuck, you were so curious.

In an attempt to stifle your frustration over not getting to see what kind of fucked out expression he wore, you sunk the tip of your digit into his hole, down to the first knuckle. Jungkook gasped at the unexpected intrusion, his already hard grip on your thighs tightening further. Even with just the tip in, he was clenching hard, and you allowed him a handful of moments to adjust to the sensation. You hummed around his length, swirling your tongue expertly over his sensitive tip to distract from any momentary discomfort he might've been feeling.

It seemed to work well enough, his body gradually relaxing around you as he let out soft, airy moans, delicate whispers of your name fluttering from his lips. "You can—" he whimpered as you licked his slit, "you can put it in deeper."

Heat coiled in your gut, a wicked smirk spreading across your face. "You want it deeper, kookie?" There was a taunting pitch to your words that had the boy curling in on himself, skin hot with embarrassment. When he made no effort to respond, you squeezed your free hand around the thick base of his dick, wrenching a cry from his throat. "If you want it deeper, you have to ask nicely."

"You're so mean, Noona." He whined hoarsely, the muscles in his legs tensing sporadically from the effort it was taking to not fuck himself into your closed fist.

"That didn't sound like a question..."

Jungkook groaned weakly, head tossed back in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. There was a beat, and then you felt the shy press of his lips against your clit accompanied by a light flick of his tongue.

"P– please put it in deeper, Noona..."

"Mmm, good boy," you emphasized the praise by slipping the rest of your finger into his tight heat, spitting once more to ensure substantial lubrications.

"Ngh— oh f– fuck—"

"Does it hurt?"

"No it just..." he swallowed thickly, "feels a little weird."

"This should help with that," you murmured, more so to yourself than him, curling your finger in search of that small bundle of nerves that would make him—

"Ah! Oh fuck!"

A smug grin settled across your lips. Found it.

Jungkook moaned loudly, tossing his head back, hips bucking violently as you rolled your finger against his prostate, sending tendrils of white hot pleasure bursting through his body. That's more like it.

"Feel good?"

"Yes! Yes! Feels– ah! Feels so good, noona," he sobbed brokenly, clutching onto your legs. You thrust your finger into him slowly, making sure to ease him into the feeling of having something inside of him. If you played this right, perhaps he'd let you do more than just finger him. You had toys sitting in your closet that you were just dying to use. Who better on than the cute snack thief next door?

"Think you can take another?" You asked, a bit eager to stretch him out, to see how much he could handle.

He nodded quickly, grinding his hips greedily down onto your finger, wanting it deeper, harder, faster. "Please. Please. I want more."

"Needy little slut." You laughed dryly, nudging your middle finger against the rim of his wet hole. You sure as hell didn't miss the way his pretty cock twitched in response to the degrading words, and a whole new round of excitement festered inside of you.

You were going to have so much fun with him.

It took a bit of careful prodding before you managed to press the length of your second digit inside of him, his tight walls clamping down around the invading appendages.

"Please move." He begged pathetically.

You planted a steadying palm to his hips as they began to buck, holding them down against the cushion. "You're too tight, sweetheart."

"I– I can't help it." He whined, a distressed cry breaking from his heaving chest.

Sympathy swirled in your belly. You could damn near feel the desperation radiating from his body in thick, hot waves. Dipping your head, you pressed a light kiss to the swollen, red head of his shuddering cock.

"Then let me help you relax."

Jungkook sobbed as you took him into your mouth, the warmth of your skilled tongue tracing a slow ring around the underside of his tip sending his head into a tailspin. It wasn't long before you felt the tension in his muscles melting away, quickly snatching the opportunity to start fucking your fingers into him. The pace you set was slow and steady, but you made sure that with every thrust you were brushing against his prostate.

The amount of pleasure rushing through his body at that point was overwhelming, and he'd been reduced to a moaning, crying mess beneath you. Any words he managed to choke out between his sounds of bliss was broken and unintelligible on swollen lips. A small corner of your mind was concerned about your neighbors, wondering if they could hear his wailing through the dangerously thin walls.

"N– Noona— it's so good, oh my god feels so fucking good—"

Fuck. To hell with the neighbors. They should be goddamn grateful.

You sped up the pace of your fingers, burying them down to the knuckle with each thrust. He was writhing now, unable to control his body let alone keep still as he was engulfed in a mind numbing heat. It wrapped itself around his every limb, his every sense overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his impending release.

"I– I think I'm gonna—" he couldn't even make it through his warning before he was cut off by his own whimpers. Luckily, you didn't need him to finish his sentence to know what he was trying to say. The signs were obvious enough, especially with the way his wall were throbbing around your fingers, the way he was pulsing between your lips, lathering the back of your tongue with an onslaught his salty pre-cum.

You hastened your ministrations, taking him off guard as your plunged down on his cock, stopping only when your lips met the sweat-slick skin of his pelvis. Jungkook cried out a shattered version of your name, unable to stop his hips from jerking up violently at the feeling of your throat constricting around him as you swallowed.

That seemed to be the last push he needed, because within the next second he was writhing and spilling hot cum down your throat, walls clamping down so hard around your fingers you worried they might break.

It was like nothing he'd every experienced before, he could feel it in every single part of his body. From his curled toes to his trembling finger tips, every last inch of him was devastated by the hurricane of erotic bliss. And unlike every other orgasms he'd experienced in the past, the high of it last way longer than just a few seconds. By the time it finally began to fade, he was still shaking.

You pulled your fingers out of him as gently as you could, but he still whimpered at the sensitivity, quivering legs squeezing shut. Maneuvering around so that you were draped over his chest, you whispered soft apologies against his throat and jaw, spilling soothing kisses across the flushed, perspiring skin. Jungkook curled into you, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

For a while you stayed like that, letting him bask in the post-orgasmic bliss as you bathed him in the kind of tender affection that he wasn't used to receiving from you. But, you'd always considered aftercare a vital part of a good sexual experience so, even if it was a bit out of character, you were more than happy to tell him just how good he'd been for you. And he was more than happy to relish in your praise.

"Noona?" He called for your attention suddenly, after his breathing had finally evened out and the deep crimson coating his cheeks had faded into an endearing pink.

"Yes?"

Against your lips, you felt him swallow.

"You didn't cum, did you?"

"I didn't." You admitted after a beat, suddenly reminded of the ache between your legs. You'd managed to be distracted from it, entirely too focused on breaking Jungkook in all the best ways to be concerned with receiving any pleasure. But now, you found yourself very much aware of just how badly you were craving your own release. Subconsciously, you squeezed your legs together.

There was a pause.

"Noona."

"Hm?"

"Sit on my face."

The demand had your hooded eyes flying wide open, mouth freezing mid-kiss.

"... please." He remedied in a bashful whisper.

For a moment, your brain went blank, not fully processing the request. But when it finally did, there were only two words that flooded into your mind and rushed from your lips in a breathless, excited murmur.

Fuck yes.

[neonacity]

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.4

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age. Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

“Deep into that darkness, peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared dream before”

— Edgar Allan Poe

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Yes. I checked the results of her scans and there seems to be no broken bones. But she did hit her head hard so I would suggest she take a rest for a couple of days."

The voices dipped in and out of your swimming consciousness like broken records. There were words that you caught and tried to grasp, but you couldn't quite make out what they mean while you struggled to emerge from your half asleep state. A searing pain ran down the left side of your head and you winced, before a particularly harsh throbbing there finally sent your eyes flying open.

The first thing you saw were the red velvet drapes hanging from the middle of what looked like the ceiling of a four poster. You frowned at it, not quite understanding what exactly it is you were looking at, when another painful throb on your temple had your hand flying towards it.

You were too focused on trying to grit back the pain that you missed the hurried rustling from beside your bed. When your vision finally focused again, you saw five heads peer at you wearing identical worried expressions.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Taeyong asked softly, concern written all over his face. He raised his hand slowly to reach out to you, but then something snapped deep down in your consciousness that sent you bolting up into a sitting position, your feet scrambling against the mattress until your back hit the headboard. Your eyes jumped from one face to the next, heart thudding harshly against your chest.

Taeyong's expression shifted from that of shock into pain at your reaction. He didn't make any other move, his gaze briefly moving instead to the person standing beside the head of your bed.

"Taeil-hyung…"

You felt a gentle hand rest on your shoulders then. For the first time, you noticed the man in a white jacket leaning towards you. He looked unfamiliar, but there was something about him that calmed you down. He peered closer into you now, brown eyes quickly scanning your features.

"Shh… everything's okay. How are you feeling?"

His soft voice slowed your heartbeat down a little. You tried to give him an answer, wincing at the scratchiness of your throat.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a doctor. Do you know where you are right now?"

Your gaze moved from him, then back to the others who are still standing on the fringes of your bed. Now that you are much calmer, you could finally properly recognize the rest of the group in the room. Taeyong sat closest to you while Haechan and Renjun hovered by the foot of the bed wearing identical frowns. Jaemin stood by the other side, his hand wrapped around Jisung's shoulders loosely. The youngest boy looked on to you, eyes rimmed with red.

You slowly nodded after swallowing the dryness in your mouth.

"The… manor…"

You visibly saw the rest of the group give a collective sigh of relief. Taeil moved to sit beside you and gently moved your face to him to quickly check your eyes with his pen light.

"She's still a little bit confused from the fall. She does look okay though," he said and you figured he was talking to the others instead of you. You frowned as you felt him take your wrist to check your pulse.

"I… fell?"

His brown eyes glanced at you briefly.

"You did. You don't remember anything?"

Before you could even respond, you heard Taeyong gently speak from your side.

"You fell on a ravine. We heard Jisung crying when we came back and came looking for you guys as fast as we could. You were unconscious when we found you…"

You let his words sink in slowly. Little by little, your memories came slipping back like little puzzle pieces that arranged themselves slowly in the back of your mind.

You remember Chenle's screams, you running into the forest, and then the feeling of falling into nothingness. Your hands balled over the blanket covering you as your head throbbed again.

"I'm so sorry, noona," your attention moved to Jisung who leaned just a little bit closer to you. He looked like he had been crying. "Chenle and I took our playing too far. We didn't think that this would happen…" he trailed off and you saw Jaemin try to soothe him by rubbing his arm.

"Where's Chenle…? Is he alright?" You asked, remembering that the boy was calling for help before your own accident.

"Yes. He's still unconscious from the anesthesia. He broke his leg from his fall but we were able to rush him to the clinic with you," Taeyong answered again.

"Is your head hurting? We had to make a couple of stitches on you, but your scans turned out fine," the doctor, who you figured out is named Taeil, asked again. Your hand raised once more to the side of your head and noticed the bandages there for the first time. One side of your skull alternated from throbbing dully to stinging sharply.

"Um...it hurts a little bit."

Taeil simply nodded and grabbed his pen to write something on the file he was holding. "That's normal. I thought you would have some short-term memory loss so it's good that you're only dealing with pain. I'll prescribe you painkillers for it."

You listened silently to what he was saying, only half understanding the context of his words. You still felt confused… like there was something you are missing.

As if he read your mind, Taeil glanced up at you again.

"Feeling confused is normal since you hit your head. You should also expect some intense headaches for a couple of weeks, maybe even some mild hallucinations. We'll try to control that with the medicine I'll give you but we're not sure how your body will react to them so just prepare yourself for the possibility, okay?"

You numbly nodded as you watched him finish scribbling something on a smaller piece of paper.

"Other than that, you don't need to be admitted to the hospital. But feel free to come back when you don't feel better after two weeks. You do have someone at home to watch over you, right?"

That made you stop, remembering that you would be alone for a couple of days. Taeil patiently waited for your answer, hand still hovering over his files.

"I… uh… I'm alone for three days but my boyfriend will be back after that…'' you finally managed to say. He frowned slightly at your answer.

"You don't have any relatives who can watch over you?"

You shook your head.

"You can stay here with us," you heard someone say and you looked over to Renjun who was still watching you with a worried expression on his face. "At least until you have someone with you at home."

The rest of the group seemed to have been taken by surprise by his suggestion as much as you were. The boy simply looked at his brothers in answer, however, a frown settling between his brows.

"It's the least we could do, right? Technically, it is our fault. And she got in an accident while at work. We can't just leave her on her own."

Taeil looked from the group, then at you. "That's not a bad idea… you do need to be under observation at least for a couple of days."

You honestly didn't know what to answer. Something told you to say no to the offer, but another part of you simply didn't have the energy to argue with the proposition. Before you could even give a reply, Jisung untangled himself from Jaemin to hold your hand. When you looked at him, he seemed on the verge of tears again.

"Please, noona? Can I make it up to you?"

You watched him, torn by the expression on his face. Finally, you gave a sigh.

"Okay… but I do need to tell my boyfriend that I'll stay over. And I don't really have anything with me…"

"You can borrow our mom's wardrobe. I think you are about the same size," Haechan offered. "Then we can just buy your other things."

You didn't know what to feel about that but nodded at the suggestion, at least for now. With the decision finalized, Taeil finally turned to Taeyong and handed him the paper he had been writing on.

"Here’s her prescription then. I have bottles of the painkillers with me but you might need to drive back to town for the sleeping pills," he said as he turned towards the older boy. "She might need it in case she gets trouble sleeping."

Taeyong nodded as his eyes quickly scanned the paper handed over to him. "About Chenle, do I also need to get him something?"

"We can talk about that separately. How about we go check him now? He must be up around this time, too."

The older boy threw you a glance and a parting apologetic smile before following Taeil who had already picked up his bag and started heading towards the door. Beside you, Jisung quickly let go of your hand to follow the doctor.

"Taeyong-hyung, I'll go with you. Noona, I'll be back later."

You watched silently as the group left and closed the door softly behind them. You still felt a little out of it that you didn't really give notice to the three boys left inside your room until you felt your mattress dip a little. A finger to your chin broke you from your reverie, and when you turned to your side, you saw Jaemin peering at you closely.

"Does it still hurt, noona?"

You blinked at his closeness, but you still felt too weak to even panic or move away. So instead, you simply nodded, goosebumps rising on your flesh as he moved to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I'm sorry… now your pretty face is all scratched up, too. I don't think they'll leave marks though… so we don't have to worry about that, hmm…?" His eyes roamed your features slowly and deliberately. You swallowed and finally moved away for a bit.

"Do you remember what happened? Did you slip?"

Renjun's question was the distraction you were looking for. Turning to him, you gave yourself some time to process an answer,  slowly shifting through the memories that were still painful and hazy for you to fully grasp. Still, you tried to recall what you could manage, your confusion only growing as you shifted through the bits and pieces of what you could remember.

There were a few things that didn't make sense to you and a few that you were also sure to be true, the most glaring one being the impossibility of you slipping down that cliff. No, you didn’t lose your footing. 

You were pushed. 

"No… I didn't. Something… something hit me," you finally managed to mumble. The three boys looked at each other, mild confusion in their expressions.

"Hit you? Like an animal?" Haechan asked with a concerned tone. You slightly shook your head as you thought over that possibility as well.

The thing is… you were sure there were no other people in the woods because everyone was accounted for when the accident happened. Taeyong and the kids weren't back yet from their trip and you were sure Jisung and Chenle were in another part of the forest since you heard them call out to you. Jeno is the only one left… but the chances of him being in the woods with you were also slim because of his injury. So that only leaves two possibilities—one, being a wild animal as the culprit behind your fall, or two, that someone else who isn't part of Rosewood manor was there with you in the woods.

Personally, you desperately wanted the first one to be true, but a gnawing feeling inside of you told you no. Your head might still feel a little hazy, but there's one thing you can be sure of.

The force that sent you hurtling down the cliff? That was no animal.

They were human hands.

"Might be… an animal," you whispered more to yourself than to address the boys in the room after a while. You didn't know what pushed you to lie through your teeth, but your gut feeling told you it is the right thing to do at the moment.

Haechan, Jaemin, and Renjun exchanged worried glances amongst themselves, obviously not buying what you just said. Fortunately, they didn't seem to push it for now.

"Well...we'll leave you alone tonight so you can rest. Haechan and I will try to look for clothes that could fit you so you can get changed. If you need anything, you can just press 0 on that intercom. It connects you to Taeyong-hyung," Renjun explained gently and pointed towards a small machine on the wall beside your bed. You nodded and gathered the blankets closer to you.

"We'll go now. Rest well, noona," Haechan said as he turned towards the door. Renjun followed after giving you another apologetic smile.

You waited for Jaemin to finally pick himself up from your bed as well before allowing yourself to relax. Silently, you moved your gaze towards him, only to be met by his smile. It was strange… how even though he looked so kind and gentle, the way he stared at you still sent chills running down your spine.

"Don't worry. We'll make it up to you. We'll take care of you really well…"

----- "I can drive back tonight and pick you up early tomorrow," Jaehyun said over the phone, his voice barely concealing his worry and agitation. You gnawed on your lower lip as you stared at the view outside of your room, the night sky looking foreboding without any presence of stars. You have managed to prop yourself up against the seat in front of your window out of your sheer desperation to temporarily escape the bed. It is quite ironic, maybe even strange, how you feel claustrophobic inside despite the expansive space of your quarters.

"It's fine, Jae. I'm doing much better now," you finally managed to say as you forced yourself to look away from the view of the forest beyond. Just looking at it gave you chills even though you know you should feel safe in the confines of the manor now.

"Baby, you have stitches on your head," Jaehyun tried to say that evenly, though you know just how much he is panicking right now. For a stranger, your fiance can easily pass off as unbothered and calm most of the time, but you know him enough to read him like an open book. To be honest though... you can't really blame him for how he is reacting right now.

"Yes, but I'm feeling fine now. I don't really want you to drive back this late…and besides, your workshop just started. It's only for three days anyway,” you tried to reason out, though another part of you desperately wants him by your side at the moment. You tried your best to fight it off, however, knowing how important this business trip is for him. “I think it’s okay if I stay here temporarily while I wait for you,” you added, trying your best to sound convincing. 

Jaehyun was silent at the other end of the line and you patiently waited for him to speak again, knowing full well that he is just looking for another possible compromise to the situation. Finally, he sighed. 

"Are you sure you are safe there though?" He asked quietly after a while. His question made you stop for a little bit, your eyes moving towards the view of the woods from your window again.

"...yes. I have a very private room right now so I can rest well," you answered as you tore your eyes away from it and forced yourself to look at the interiors of your quarters instead. Studying it now, it looks a lot like the layout of Jeno's room so you figured you must be in the same hallway.

"That's not what I mean," Jaehyun said, and you already know what he is going to say next. "What I mean is, are you sure you can trust the people there?"

It took you a few seconds to answer that. You would be lying to yourself if you say you don't feel strange and jumpy right now, but at the same time, you also feel a little guilty for harboring such emotions when the family was nice enough to offer you temporary space and care. Sure, your accident still remains a mystery, but it’s not like you can assume that anyone wanted it to happen, especially since Chenle also ended up injured. It’s because of that reason that you simply swallowed back your nerves, chalking up your odd feelings as after effects for your fall.  

"Yes, of course. They haven't really bothered me that much. I don't think we should worry about it…"

Jaehyun's silence said that he wasn't entirely convinced. It took a moment for him to finally give a resigned gust of breath.

"Fine. Keep yourself safe, okay? I will call you back again tomorrow morning. Make sure you rest tonight."

"Okay...Don't worry about me too much," you said, smiling even though you know he couldn’t see you right now.

"I will still try and see if I can cut my trip shorter, alright?"

You chuckled. There it is, the compromise.

"Okay…"

"I love you. Stay safe."

"I will… Love you too."

"Oh, and honey?" You were about to cut the call when his voice stopped you again. You pressed the phone closer to your ear once more, waiting for his last words.

"Lock the door."

Your eyes flew towards the dark oak door at the other end of the room at his words.

"Okay, I will. Goodnight, baby."

You let out a tired sigh when you finally finished the call. Maybe Jaehyun was right… Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he could cut his trip and go home earlier than planned. For now though, you don't have any other choice but at least spend the first night here to recover a little more. Your wound has honestly started stinging again, maybe because the effect of the first painkillers are finally starting to wear off.

You gave one long look around your quarters before throwing your phone on the wide four poster bed. When your gaze landed on the door once more, you heard Jaehyun's reminder echoing in your mind again.

Slowly, you walked towards it, feet padding over the lush rug that covered the whole floor of the room. You noticed that there was a double lock system installed on it at least—a knob one, and a bolt-type that can be maneuvered from the inside. You gave an internal sigh of relief when you took notice of the latter, knowing that you have at least a level of protection even from those who have keys to the house. You have started to reach out to fix both locks when the door swung open all of a sudden, causing you to stumble back a little in shock.

Haechan looked back at you with the same look of surprise on his face at the threshold. For a while the two of you just stood there, staring at each other.

"Ah, I'm sorry, noona. I forgot to knock. I'm not really used to having guests here," he smiled sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. His apologetic chuckles finally made you unfreeze from your spot.

"Tha-that's fine. I was just surprised. Why… are you here?"

"Oh, I just have to give you this," he extended his hands over to you, and for the first time, you noticed the folded garment that he was holding. You gingerly took it, feeling the softness of silk brushing your fingers.

"Renjun and I tried to look for an old night gown of our mom's that would fit you. It is a little bit old fashioned but it's clean and still holds up together so I think that would work, at least for now."

At his words, you took a closer look at the dress on your hands before unfurling it to its full length. He was right, it does look a little dated with its long sleeves, laced collar, and embroidered hem that would probably fall mid-leg on you, but the size looks just enough for your frame. You looked up at Haechan again with a smile.

"Thank you. I think this will work… But, are you sure it is okay for me to borrow it?" You asked hesitantly, eyes falling briefly again on the dress. After all, you do know the story behind their parents, and there are some people who can get a little sensitive about the possessions of their passed on loved ones. The least you could do is to bring up the question. 

Haechan, however, looked the least bit bothered. You didn't catch it because you were studying the lacework on one of the cuffs under the light, but one end of his lips curled up into a smirk as his hooded gaze moved to study the dress on your hands before grazing your form from head to toe.

"No. We don't mind. It's the only female clothing that we can offer for now, unless you want to borrow one of our clothes~?"

That immediately made your eyes snap back to him. His words were innocent, but the way his voice curled made your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

"No, that's not what I meant—"

The embarrassment on your face must have looked too obvious because the boy suddenly burst out laughing, his giggles sounding like a lilting tune as it floated down the hallway. You've always noticed how beautiful his voice is, but it is only now that you realized how calming it is to the ears, despite your current flustered state.

"Yah, I'm kidding, noona. I was just trying to make you feel better," he said after his laughter calmed down. You tried to give him an apologetic smile and looked down on the dress in your hands, your fingers unconsciously finding comfort from the smoothness of the silk. Haechan drank your expression silently with his eyes in the brief moment that you were distracted. You have always had this independent and confident air around you normally, but you have a more subdued nature now, probably because you are hurt.

He studied you silently as a thought formed in his mind. He may like the way you carry yourself on an everyday basis, but the way you are now? 

He loves it. 

"Besides… I think you'll look pretty on it," he said softly, voice sounding like whispers on skin. You looked up to see him smiling at you fondly, as if he is remembering a distant memory.

You cleared your throat before nodding. "Thank you. I'll change to this tonight. Please say thanks to Renjun as well."

Haechan gave you his signature smile and clasped his hands behind his back.

"No problem. We'll check on you tomorrow again. Goodnight, noona."

You were about to close the door when you suddenly stopped halfway as you remembered something.

"Oh, sorry. Another thing."

The boy turned back to you to give you a questioning look. You smiled at him apologetically.

"Can I ask to have some of my medications? I don't know who has it but I think Taeyong was handed my prescription. It's just that, my head is hurting again so I’d like to take some before going to sleep…"

Haechan's brows raised slightly at the realization.

"Oh, Taeyong-hyung hasn't visited you yet then? Ah… I think it's because he is still busy with Chenle. I can get them for you, noona."

"Will that be okay? Really sorry for asking this."

"Stop apologizing, it's fine," he winked and you managed to return it with a grateful smile. "I'll look for Taeyong-hyung and bring you your meds. Maybe you can get changed for now."

"Thank you, Haechan."

"I'll be back," he nodded before turning on his heels again, a spring on his step. 

------- "Shhh… sweetie, don't cry. You know I don't like it when you do that, right?"

A woman bent over a boy not older than seven who was currently cowering against the shadowed corner of the room. The space didn't have any lights on, but the sliver of moonlight that passed between the small crack of curtains shone on the tear-streaked face of the child. The female in front of him gently reached out for his face, cradling his cheeks lovingly between long, slender fingers.

"Look at you, you look like a mess now… stop crying, okay?" Her voice was soft and angelic when she spoke, enough to calm down the sobs wrecking the thin frame of the child before her. The boy gave a small nod which made her smile, her dainty features glowing with happiness.

"Very good. Now… you do know we have to go through this, right? You've been a bad boy so you leave me with no other choice."

The child froze in fear but softened his stance after a few heartbeats. He mumbled softly, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking.

"Yes… mother."

The woman's expression remained somber, as if she was in pain. She gently moved her hand to run her thumb over the boy's cheek, wetting her sharp fingernail with his tears.

"You do know that even if it will hurt, mother still loves you a lot, right? Mama is doing this because she cares for you a lot and she wants you to be good... my sunshine... my precious, precious boy…"

Her soothing voice mixed with her words made the boy stop crying entirely. Instead, his eyes shone with pure adoration for her.

"Yes, mama… I know that."

The lady smiled. Her eyes scanned the features of the child momentarily before finally letting her hand holding his face drop to her side. Slowly, she straightened up again to her full height, but not before grabbing for something from the floor beside her. The moonlight caught it before it got swallowed by the darkness of the room again—a leather belt so thin it almost looks like a whip.

The woman raised her hand gracefully above her head before giving one last loving smile at the boy on the floor.

"Now, try not to scream too much… we don't want to hurt your voice."

---- Haechan softly hummed a happy tune as he walked through the wing of the house where their private quarters are. It was late at night and the rest of his brothers had retreated back into their own rooms despite all the excitement that  happened in the past few hours. His gaze touched each door as he passed them, a smile curling the tips of his lips as he did.

There are a few things that Haechan believes sets him apart from the rest of his family. He isn't as physically strong as Jeno, as charismatic as Jaemin, or as patient and quiet as Renjun. He isn't as friendly and likable as Mark, nor is he also as innocent and magnetic as Jisung and Chenle.

What Haechan is, however...is smart and cunning…

He is smart enough to always be two steps ahead of everyone and cunning enough to move the pieces that he set without having to lift a finger if he wanted to. There is a subtleness in him that doesn't make red flags flash in someone’s head unlike Jaemin does whenever he can't control his neediness, but he has enough pull to get under someone's skin if he wanted to unlike Renjun who prefers the quiet and watchful approach. Oh and Jeno? He knows how to use Jeno's strength well.

He knows it enough to suggest to his brother to give a little friendly push to the right direction—or rather, to the right cliff—so the wheel can finally move. Sure, it might hurt someone, maybe even break a bone or two, but that's normal. After all, when you love, you should be willing to hurt a little.

His hums died when he finally stopped at the last room down the hallway, mind trying to picture what's on the other side. His gaze quickly glanced at the small tray in his hands carrying a small glass of water and a variety of pills that gleamed under the dim lighting. He smiled. Finally, he raised his hand to gently tap on the oak door in front of him.

"Noona, can I come in? I have your medicine with me."

He heard a soft rustling from the other side before the door finally opened. Silently, Haechan took a calming breath and tried his best to look casual at the vision that welcomed him. Of course he was right. The dress looked perfect on her, almost as if she was the original owner of it. She looked like she stepped out from a dream… his dreams.

Oh and what he would do to keep her there.

He gave her a friendly smile now as he pushed the tray to her hands. She returned it with a grateful look before studying the oddly matched colors of pills there silently. They shone dully under the dim lighting of the hallway, as if officially warning the start of something.

Yes, Haechan believes that there are a few things that starkly sets him apart from the rest of his brothers. But if he were to choose one, he would say he is ruthless. Ruthless enough to drag someone down a little, all the while wearing that sunny smile on his face.

After all, a little nightmare won't hurt anyone.

"Don't forget to take them so you can feel better, okay noona?"

---

CHAPTER 5

A/N: Okaaay so the core four have finally been covered. Guess it’s time to ask now who is the scariest? JK. Taglist below! 

@negincho,  @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore, @jsturkey, @aj–7, @pukupukupawpau, @tomiesgirlfren, @vsszn, @those-winternights​, ---

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 11 - Student Council President Sakura / Graduation Chapter

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Youtube playlist for your reading accompaniment

They held a run-through of the graduation ceremony on the last day of class and technically the last day of the trio’s high school life. Unlike their first general assembly, Uchiha Sasuke was to deliver the graduation speech but not without great sulking from Haruno Sakura who landed a close second despite ranking first in their final exams.

And obviously, not without Sasuke trying to give up his speech privileges by campaigning instead for Sakura.

In the end, all three of them were granted speech slots – one for Sasuke as valedictorian, Sakura as student representative, and Naruto as the school’s first national MVP. It was this debacle that led the three of them to brainstorm in an empty AVR after the dry run.

“Done!” Sakura yelled like the diligent student she was. “Let me look at yours!”

Sasuke presented her a blank paper while saying, “It’s all prepared in my head”, and Naruto showed her his baseball doodles.

“Oh God, you’re all so hopeless.”

Then the electricity suddenly got cut off in the AVR. Sakura expected the boys to screech in surprise and cling to each other, but she only heard silence in the dark. She jumped in her seat when the doors opened with a loud bang, a confetti splash, and the lights coming back to life.

Sasuke and Naruto were still in front of her, holding two bouquets of irises and yellow roses. Behind them were the old and new student council members with other students holding a large banner saying Thank you, Student Council President Sakura!

She started to leave her seat to come to them, but they gestured for her to stay on her seat. In front of the room, the large monitor beeped and showed a compilation of videos.

Sukehiro Aoi, an alumni and currently an intern in an animation studio. “Hello, Ms. Pres. You once asked the body to submit a publication material for an event of the student council, and I sent mine through a dummy email with no expectations of winning. I wasn’t comfortable with the public seeing my art. I was afraid of the unsolicited remarks so sending it anonymously gave me some relief. You chose it however, and you knew how big a credit was to an artist. I was really scared when you were able to hunt me down just by my watermark, but my name in the info blast caught the attention of a school board member and referred me to this animation studio. It was the littlest thing, but you handed me my dream.”

Watanabe Kota was a year below them. He has a small frame, round thick glasses, and battled with face acne. “Ms. Pres! People never had much confidence in my physical appearance, so I don’t know what you saw in me when you asked me to take over the school radio. But here we are – we’re airing daily and we even produce documentaries and radio programs. Thank you for seeing what I didn’t.”

Ito Amanaya, a typical jock in the football team, muscular and came across as intimidating, but he had the gentlest cadence. “I was bullied by the same group that bullied your dynamic duo. When you ran them off, you also saved my life. Thank you, Haruno.”

Kimura Shinze, a classmate in third year, beautiful, popular, and the captain of the cheering squad. “Hope you’re having a great day, Ms. Pres. Remember that time when the class was guessing who were our crushes and I blurted out that it was a girl, you told me thank you for telling us. That was…a big deal to me. Thank you for that gesture.”

Himurata Aoi, president of the koto club. “Sakura, I know you had many people come up and confessed to you so when I did try, I was glad that you didn’t give me a bullshit reason like you’re not into girls. You turned me down because you have someone you already love. I am thankful for your honesty.”

The biology teacher, Takahashi Kande. “Student council, thank you for your mental health program. As a single father to twins, I don’t have the luxury of time to sit in a couch and sort out my issues. To be able to do that in my workplace during breaks is a heaven-sent gift. You saved me and my family. Thank you.”

Many more messages came on, from a classmate she lent spare change to, from a staff she helped clean, from countless students who she wasn’t aware she gave kindness to.

“Why….” She asked breathlessly.

“You’ve been beating yourself lately. We thought you needed some reminding,” Sasuke muttered, under his breath, the bouquet still in his hands. “You left some pretty big footprints, Ms. Pres.

“You might not have noticed,” Naruto jested. “But this is always innate and natural to you, isn’t it?”

“Why did you bother so much?” She was reduced to tears.

“It was Naruto’s idea.”

“Huh? You did all the compiling though!”

“Shut up, it was me,” yelled the current president.

“Thank you, everyone.”

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

It was a weekend, but Sasuke requested Sakura and Naruto to meet him at the school gates. He only gave the time and place, and he knew well enough that they would be there – no questions asked.

They stood there, minutes earlier than planned, a first but nothing more unusual than homebody Sasuke asking them to go out on a weekend. Sakura wore an oversized rust shirt over a pair of muted cotton blue trousers tied with a brown leather belt and tan fisherman sandals, her long hair kept in one single braid at the back. Naruto probably expected a fancy lunch with his outfit – black silky long sleeves over gray pants and black loafers.

Sasuke, high on impulsive decisions, wore bright colors, a complete departure from his usual neutrals; mustard vest over a deep violet polo, baggy pants, off white converse, and a white fanny pack. “Well, we’re mostly dressed for comfort, except for that idiot beside you.”

“What do you mean dressed for comfort? I borrowed these loafers from my vice-captain and my feet aren’t used to them,” Naruto whined. “Besides, aren’t you taking us out to a five-star meal, Mr. Valedictorian?”

“Wow, what a way to show off.” Sakura pursed her lips in annoyance. “Don’t worry Naruto, I got your next café order.”

“Ah no. It was just something we heard from the grape vine.” Naruto scratched his head and carefully glanced at Sasuke. “Grumpy got his trust fund today.”

In bated breaths, they waited for him to respond with a scowl or a retort, but he just nodded. “Come on, we’ll miss the train.”

They traveled for three stations and disembarked on the fourth, Sasuke sandwiched in between the two, his shoulders pillows again to their heads and yet such burdens were light as cotton. The surfacing emotions since last week were taking hold of him, but he needed to pull through somehow because breaking down while commuting was one thing he did not really see doing.

“Word just got in. The house was turned over this morning,” Itachi told him over the phone.

“Impeccable timing when I’m also moving abroad next week.” Sasuke pulled out his Bleachers vinyl and anticipated another lonesome lull for the night.

“Do you miss the cream puffs?”

“Nothing comes close.”

“Hmm. I’ll pay for the rental fee of your car.”

In Itachi’s defense, while he was an afficionado of escapism, he also knew how to read between the lines. “Watch me get a Mercedes-Benz.”

“I have a good driving playlist.” This only meant math rock, and Sasuke wanted something to scream his lungs too.

“Don’t need one.”

“Treat your friends to dinner, okay? Gotta go.”

“We’re walking?!” Naruto almost limped out of the train. Sasuke took one look at his heels and saw that they were bruised red. He took off his converse and socks and gave them to him.

Sakura whipped out a small first-aid kit and covered the rash on Naruto’s heels. “Hey don’t look at me like that. Brought it just in case we’re going on a day survival tour. A camping would be nice too.”

“Did you scrub your feet, idiot?”

“You think so low of me grumpy. Of course – last week!”

With Naruto now comfortable, the three resumed walking on the unfamiliar residential area. Sasuke gestured for them to enter a bamboo forest on the far side of the main road. Hidden in the shadows of the clumped stalks were a small opening, the growth hampered and ground rid of grasses and weeds; many people have also chosen this shortcut, walked through the forest, did a little nature bathing, and emerged behind the bakery, still there, still standing, still operating.

Sasuke tapped on the large glass window cum counter on the front and bought three sets of cream puffs.

“Oh, it’s you,” the old baker greeted. “You brought your friends over? You always buy one set.”

Sasuke offered her a smile, briefly glancing to his periphery where Sakura was fussing with Naruto’s feet, and nodded as he accepted the paper bag. “It’s on the house, kid.”

“You brought us to stalk someone’s house?” Sakura dug in one paper bag, bit the puff in one bite, and with full mouth, she sighed. “This is heaven.”

“It’s our old family house, before the accident that is.” Sasuke also took out one puff and munched on it, ruminating on the sight before him, a two-story house with an imposing façade, his mom’s climbing hydrangea gone and cut by the new owners, beds of roses and daisies already withered, but the wisteria tree on the vacant lot beside continued to grow and shade what he supposed were the children’s rooms. It was in his third bite that he saw the tomato fruits he planted, alive and full with harvest. “Do you think my parents know?”

Naruto slid an arm across his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. “Then they would be happy ghosts or maybe they would voluntarily move away to give the new owners the opportunity to make it a happy a home like yours.

“What part are you gonna miss?” Sakura asked, halfway through her set of puffs.

“The sight of the wisteria before I sleep and after I wake up, and the sunlight in my parents’ room. My dad liked to make these suncatchers for my mom. The play of light was a good morning greeting, she said.”

“What’s your funniest memory?” Naruto sat on the grass, uncaring for the stains that would taint his good pair of pants.

“It was probably Christmas when I was seven, and Itachi had this big idea to bake a cake, but he swapped the sugar for the salt and we were wondering why it wouldn’t make a custard. Our parents still ate it, saying it was a very salty version of dark chocolate cake.”

“It was a good home,” Sakura patted the space between her and Naruto and Sasuke sat down cross-legged too, dipping his hand on the paper bag with the last cream puff.

“It was a good home,” Sasuke agreed as he bit into the last vestige of his family memory. He was suckling the powdered sugar off his fingers when he realized he was already crying, and the two were downright sobbing on his either side.

Such an embarrassing sight to see; he wondered what would the new owners feel if they looked out their windows this instant and saw three teenagers breaking down on the road across. It was honestly stupid and laughable to a point, considering how funny it was for grief to become lighter when someone else cried with him.

Naruto was sniffling so much that he had to offer his handkerchief to him. “I forgot to tell you guys. Hinata confessed to me during the cultural festival.”

“Oh my god. What did you say?” Sakura took a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes. She flashed an apologetic look to Sasuke who already offered his hanky to Naruto’s fluids.

“Ah, what else? I had to reject her.” Naruto sneezed on Sasuke’s handkerchief again. “I told her I was in love with someone else.” He slyly glanced at his raven-haired friend and pursed his lips which Sakura quickly caught.

“Who is it?”

“Sasuke also likes someone.”

“Shut your mouth, blondie. Point is already moot. Besides, we’ve already been rejected.”

“Who are these people and why don’t I know them?” Sakura genuinely looked offended. “I could have vetted them!”

“Exactly why it was fortunate you didn’t meet them,” Sasuke said as an excuse though he pegged Sakura for not being that naïve. She, thankfully, let it go and gathered their trash. She dropped the bomb as she was brushing the grass blades from her trousers. “My parents are divorcing. Such a travesty not to have them show up on graduation day, and I thought I did a great job.”

The two, ever so sure, held onto her hands in case she was trembling again.

“Let’s get that five-star dinner,” Sasuke suggested, “and we need to rent a Mercedes-Benz.”

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

Graduation Day

“Let’s welcome to the stage, class valedictorian, Uchiha Sasuke.” Kakashi was the officiating faculty today so she expected difficulty going through the event, but for some reason, he slipped into her mental back burner, no longer taking up room in her active consciousness. That was a good step, she smiled to herself. Her smile became wider as Sasuke got up the stage.

His fans club’s cheers were heard outside the auditorium, and the graduating class chuckled at the quick interruption. He cleared his throat and started his piece.

“Please get it on record that I was coerced to do this speech. Then again, I also had a hand on the turn of events that led me here today, in front of you. And it’s a little too on the nose, but I came to high school with a clear set of goals – have high grades and lead an uninteresting life. I accomplished the first one rather easily, and it’s a good metric for the future that’s upon us right now. Good grades land us good colleges. Good colleges land us good jobs. Good jobs land us good life.

But it’s not the sole benchmark as I have learned lately. You see, my second goal really missed the mark. Good life can also mean good friends, fun experiences, a caring environment, a complete family. If you ticked off each one, then that’s very notable. You have the four-leaf clover, and it’s a rare blessing. I only ticked off three, but that goes without any regret. If you only have one silver lining in your high school memory, then that makes us all the more human. And if there’s none, there is still is still a whole stretch of possibilities we can discover to find one. Thank you for your kind attention.”

Sakura was pretty sure she heard several sniffles across the student body. “The bastard delivered a good speech,” she muttered to herself.

“We would like to welcome our first national MVP, Uzumaki Naruto.”

Outside, the school band played the cheering anthem for his last national games. The cheerleaders also did a routine in tribute to him. That made him well up when he got to the podium.

“Wait oh my god, I’m tearing up so much.”

Sasuke grunted loudly and went back the stage to hand him a handkerchief which Naruto quickly used to wipe his snot.

“Thanks Sasuke. How can Kakashi-sensei let me follow after that rousing speech, and before Sakura too. It’s kinda evil.”

Laughter broke out.

“Well, this one’s a bare minimum. I didn’t have any goals or expectations, unlike genius grumpy over there. I just wanted to live my life like an ordinary boy. Someone said that how you spend your day is how you live your life so I did just that – ate ramen, slept in class because I am a growing kid, and played each arcade game until I won them. I also believe in serendipitous – thanks Sakura for this word, for the spelling and meaning – serendipitous coincidences. I just pitched and batted for former captain Haru one afternoon and now we landed in the national finals. I had loneliness for a friend, but now I’ve got all of you. And you know what else, the magic of working together. We wouldn’t have stepped foot in the nationals if it weren’t for your collective help. When we work towards a common goal, that also gives us common happiness, right? It’s infectious, a bouncing energy that gets thrown around and still makes it one piece. So wherever you will be after this, believe it!”

When Kakashi called her name next, she thought she was deaf, the noise around her collapsed in muted decibels. It took a minute before her fellow classmates shook her and motioned for her to quickly come up the stairs. Her silver-haired teacher looked so concerned in the shadows, but for what it was worth, she was civil and calm enough (at least in the matters concerning him) to nod at him in quiet exchange of assurance.

It was because she saw both of her parents at the side with a bouquet of roses. She struggled with the paper she brought with her although she had it memorized in her head; she even went through it flawlessly for three times last night. Tears blurred the words and the mere shock of the sight of their togetherness disabled her mental function to string coherent thoughts. She also started hyperventilating, her breaths coming faster than what her lungs could pump.

Then she felt Kakashi’s hand on her shoulder, a steady presence, and it reeled her back to reality. He tapped the mic and the feedback echoed. “Ah, Ms. Haruno had some technical issues. Again, let’s welcome former student council president, Sakura.”

Sasuke and Naruto in the front were almost standing, but she flashed them a smile as if to say she was okay now. “Hello, good day to our honorable guests and graduates. I think it’s safe to say that Sasuke and Naruto provided really good words of advice. So I have nothing more to offer, but to share my gratitude. Everyone was saying the student council did a good job in its programs, but it was actually the lot of you who made this possible – from your activity suggestions to participation and feedback. After all, you were the makers of your memories.

Earlier last week, my councilmates and friends reminded me how small actions go a long way – a smile, a wave across the hallway, a short exchange of good morning and see you soon, and I thought, aren’t we all just an accumulation of these small, little things? As such, it was what you think your insignificant moments were that pushed us to deliver you the best. It was the passing comment, the top-of-your-head tips, the interlude stories we hear during lunch breaks that allowed us to give you grand gestures and memories we hoped were worth keeping. And if we could start to use that perspective as well in our lives then maybe the uncertainties of a future wouldn’t be so heavy on us. We will face tomorrow with a lightness in being.

In behalf of the student council, thank you for allowing us to serve you.”

She bowed at a level where her torso was almost aligned at her hips, and she was confused with the lack of reaction. Sakura sighed, mulling over the deficiencies in her speech, but she straightened her back to a sight of a standing ovation and a thundering applause.

Then, she let her tears fall.

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

“Why would you let Kakashi-sensei take the pic?” Sakura hissed at them.

“Just this one time, Sakura!” Naruto grinned.

“Sakura, you’re out of the frame,” Kakashi remarked. “Okay good. Say cheese.”

In spite of her recent heartbreak with him, she permitted herself to bask in fleeting cordiality. “Cheese.”

“Grumpyyyyyy.”

“Idiot blondie.”

Kakashi took three more shots and handed the camera to the trio. He almost turned away when Sakura caught his sleeve.

“Just one more,” she said. “With you.”

Sakura shifted to the front, almost kneeling with the camera angled for a selfie, her two friends beside her looking equally annoyed as the other, and Kakashi behind them, his hands on either head, smiling with his deceptively charming beauty mark.

It was the last picture of their high school life.

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

The three were rushing through the airport crowd fifteen minutes before the immigration closes gates.

“Here!” Sakura slid a folder on the large pocket on Sasuke’s bag. “It includes your passport, your flight details, your valid IDs, your itinerary, and letters from us! Don’t forget our Friday video calls!”

“I can’t see. These tears are bullies,” Naruto said through tears. He was continuously wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“And If I don’t get on my flight because you made us eat ramen for one last time and the orders took too long, I’m gonna have you cursed by a witch and a shaman!” Sasuke growled. The guards were starting to close the gates when a sobbing Naruto sprinted and basically tackled the guards on the floor.

“Sasuke come on, hurry up!”

“Drink your vitamins! And if you miss cream puffs, I’ll teach you how to make them.” Sakura was trying hard to keep pace with Sasuke’s brisk walking, but she ended up breathless anyway.

The three of them finally reached the immigration entrance, and Naruto was profusely apologizing to the guards for the interruption. Sasuke showed his documents, wheezing as they looked at it. They gave him a thumbs up and opened the gates.

The two were already slumped at the floor, waving without words, and exhausted from the clock race. Sasuke was almost through when he remembered something he forgot. He muttered a quick sorry, ran through the opening, and hugged his two friends.

“I’ll miss you.”

[slippinmickeys]

The Countess (1/4)

This started as one of five short drabbles I was going to do -- no more than 500 words -- a Five Times Mulder & Scully Met In An Alternate Universe thingy (the technical term). 24 hours and zero sleep later, it turned into this.

I read a lot of Regency Era romance novels, and wanted to combine my love for both those and my love for the X-Files. I hope I pulled it off.

I’ll be posting the first two parts today, the second two tomorrow.

It was only after the major-domo announced her that Lady Dana Scully gave any thought to the state of her dress. The entire ballroom had turned to get a look at the newest Lady debuting into Society, and the dress she was wearing -- borrowed from her sister -- wouldn’t do at all. For one thing, it was cut entirely too low. The color was a rich cerulean blue and complemented both her eyes and her coloring, but the looks she was getting -- raised eyebrows from the ladies and downright leers from the men -- were enough to make her want to sink into her shoes: also borrowed, also too low. By the time she reached the bottom of the steps, the looks from Society hadn’t stopped, but she was too short to see anything.

“Lady Dana!” she heard from somewhere in the crowd, and from her left -- shoving through the amassed crowd like the prow of a ship through water -- came her brother-in-law, Sir Michael Willoughby and his wife, her sister Melissa, who would be her chaperones for the evening until her mother arrived later.

“Michael, Missy!”

Michael nodded to her and Missy swept her up into a tight hug.

“You look radiant!” Missy said, holding out her hands so she could get a look at her in the borrowed dress.

“I’m showing entirely too much décolletage,” Dana muttered, looking about her at the feathered and bejeweled masses of polite London Society. She wished she’d been permitted a fichu, but alas, her mother had helped her dress and insisted she go without. She brought a hand to her coiffure self-consciously and wondered if anyone could tell that her family no longer employed a lady’s maid.

“Nonsense,” Melissa said, “why we’ll have you betrothed to a Duke by midnight!”

Melissa had of course only been trying to make her feel better, and what was a ball if not a market where young ladies were on display for the careful selection of the gathered unmarried men, but at mention of the word “duke,” Dana’s stomach lurched and she could feel the color rising to her cheeks. She snapped out her fan and began waving it in front of her face to cover it.

“My dear, you look flushed,” said Michael kindly. “Can I get you some lemonade?”

“Please,” Dana said, and when Michael turned away to get refreshments, she said,  “I’ll go with you!” Anything to get away from the constant quizzical glares of hundreds of eyes in the ballroom.

Melissa grabbed her arm and they followed Michael to a room just off the main hall that held refreshments of every kind, and more food -- all of it decadent and rich -- than Dana had seen in one place in years.

“Where’s Mother?” Melissa said quietly into her ear, still holding onto Dana’s arm tightly as they each sipped lemonade.

“She’ll be along,” Dana said, “she insisted I come early, no doubt to meet as many eligible gentlemen as possible.”

“You’d think she’d want to be by your side, introducing you to as many and more,” Melissa murmured.

Dana would have laughed if the situation weren’t as serious as it was.

“She got a letter from Father as we were leaving,” Dana said, looking at her sister earnestly. “She sent me along in the carriage and ran into the house to read it.”

Melissa’s face looked pained.

Their family was in trouble. Their father, William Scully, the Marquess of Sunderland, had made several bad investments since his retirement from the Royal Navy, and the debtors had all come calling at once. Their fortune had been all but spent when it came time for Dana’s debut into society, and the last of the family’s money had been used to purchase her older brother Bill’s commission into the Navy.

Initially, their mother and father had thought that perhaps an advantageous marriage for Melissa might save them, but Missy, impetuous as always, had run off to Gretna Green to elope with their childhood friend Michael (a gentleman himself, but a poor one with only a small estate in Cumberland -- what little income he had could not be spared to help save his new in-laws), and so now all of the family’s hope was resting on Dana’s shoulders. Their father was only months away from losing his estate, and the family’s reputation along with it. If Dana didn’t marry well -- and soon -- they would all be ruined.

Melissa downed the rest of her lemonade and gave her glass to a passing waiter.

“Dana-” she started to say.

“Do not apologize, again,” Dana said, “not one more word. You married for love and I do not begrudge you your happiness.”

In truth, she did begrudge her sister. At least a little. And then felt all the more guilty for it. She would not tell her sister that her mother had spoken -- on more than one occasion -- with the Duke of Ashbury, and she knew she was the subject of their discussion. The Duke was old -- somewhere in his sixties -- and fat. And ugly. And from what little interaction Dana had had with him, she had also found him to be unkind, dismissive and a bigot. His wife had died a little more than a year ago and left him childless. He was in want of a new Duchess and an heir and was richer than Croesus. On paper, it seemed a perfect match.

But as much as Dana wanted to save her family, the thought of becoming that man’s wife, of… of laying with him and mothering his children, filled her with dread. Even the promise of years of being a wealthy widow (how the man had not keeled over dead already was a mystery to her) and a Duchess to boot held very little appeal.

Dana wanted what Melissa had. Love. A husband whom she cared for, who cared for her. One she could talk with, read with, discuss science and literature, someone she looked at fondly who would look fondly at her in return. She wanted a great love.

Instead she would get a Duke.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She saw the black and blue feathered plume of her mother’s fascinator long before she caught sight of the woman wearing it. It bobbed and weaved through the mass of society, pausing every now and then to speak to gathered groups.

When her mother had finally broken free and was walking toward them, it was on the arm of her elder brother, who was looking exceedingly handsome in his new naval uniform.

“Oh Dana, darling, I do hope you’re not being a wallflower,” her mother said to her as she leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“She has danced twice already, Mother,” Melissa said, leaning in for her own kiss. She winked at Dana as she did so.

“Good, good,” the Marchioness said, a little breathless, and then turned to her eldest son. “Look what I found on the doorstep.”

“Bill!” Dana said, wrapping her arms around her brother, “we were not expecting you!”

“It was meant to be a surprise,” he said, placing a kiss on her hairline.

Bill leaned in to exchange greetings with Melissa,then stepped off to the side to talk with Michael. The Marchioness stood next to Dana and turned to look at the crowd.

“Have you seen the Duke?” she said quietly, looking at the gathering intently.

“Which Duke?” Melissa said quickly, shooting a glance at Dana before peering curiously at their mother.

“Ashbury,” their mother said, not taking her eyes off the mass of people.

“And why should Dana be looking for the Duke of Ashbury?” Melissa asked cautiously.

The Marchioness gave Melissa a long look and then leaned in a conspiratorial way.

“He plans to court Dana,” she said in a whisper.

Melissa looked aghast.

“But he’s old!” she all but shouted, “and by all accounts ghastly!”

“Hush, Melissa,” their mother hissed and looked around to see if they’d been overheard. “He’s also rich and in need of a wife,” she went on.

Melissa threw a horrified look at Dana, who stared at her shoes. It wouldn’t do to start crying in the middle of a ball in Westminster, and if Melissa even showed her an ounce of sympathy right now, she knew she’d start tearing up immediately.

Oh, how she wished she were at home in Cumberland with her books. She’d always found books to be far better company than people.

Just then, a hush seemed to fall over the gathering as the major-domo declared another arrival. Dana couldn’t hear who’d been announced. After a moment of hushed whispers, the noise level seemed to return to normal.

“Is it the Duke?” the Marchioness said hopefully, craning her neck to see over the crowd. Dana hoped not.

“An Earl, I think,” said Michael distractedly from a few feet away, wiping the crumbs of a macaron from his ascot.

A moment later a man walked through the crowd toward and then past them, a full head taller than nearly everyone else. Everyone glanced curiously in his direction as he passed, as though a cloud of intrigue wafted in the air around him.

It was a man Dana had never seen before. He had dark hair, thick and just growing over the sharp edge of his pristinely pressed collar. His shirt was billowy and brilliantly white, and his trousers clung to muscular legs that disappeared into expensive looking Hessians. He had a fine face, a chiseled jaw, and full lips. His eyes shone forest green over a strong nose and caught Dana’s own for a moment as he passed. She felt as though her head had been rung like a bell just looking at him.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“He has a lot of nerve, showing himself here,” Bill practically spat from his position next to Michael.

Dana shook her head to clear it.

“Here?” she asked.

“In polite society,” Bill clarified, his eyes following the man, his look withering.

“He’s the richest Earl in the kingdom, Bill,” their mother said dismissively, “he can show himself in any society he wants.” With that she snapped out her fan and continued scanning the ballroom.

“Who is he?” Dana asked her sister quietly, so as not to let Bill overhear.

“William Mulder,” she said on a whisper back, “the Ninth Earl of Wexford.”

“But I heard he’s-”

“A rake and a scoundrel?” Missy said into her ear, smiling, “That’s what they say. I even overheard the Viscountess Smith call him ‘The Fox.’”

“Whatever for?” Dana asked,

“They say he keeps a fallen woman in a lavish apartment in Mayfair,” Missy said, “for his own personal use.”

“Missy!” she admonished, but her sister merely grabbed champagne from a passing waiter and smiled into the glass.

“Come Dana,” her mother said, grabbing her elbow and pulling her along after her, “I think I see the Duke.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Duke of Ashbury was even older, fatter and more unpleasant than Dana remembered. He prattled on and on about his wealth and estates and her mother practically simpered over every word he said, which turned Dana’s stomach even more. And the way he looked at her -- as though she were a pastry to be eaten -- her distaste for the man only grew.

When he finally asked her for a dance (lacking all conceivable charm and saying “Well, I suppose we should get on with it, let us go, my dear,”) Dana was so off-put that she couldn’t find any words at all. The next dance was a waltz, and the thought of the Duke’s rotund belly pressing into her own filled her with such revulsion that she then stammered:

“I -- I can’t. I’ve promised the next dance to someone else.”

“You have?” the Duke said, his face looking as though he were sucking a lemon, “...to whom?”

Dana’s mother was glaring at her, anger and embarrassment turning her cheeks scarlet.

“To me, Your Grace,” said a deep, droll voice from over her shoulder. She turned to see the Earl of Wexford standing close to her, his hand held out politely. “Shall we?”

“I -- yes,” Dana said shortly and put her hand in the Earl’s before she dug herself into any further trouble. She quickly curtsied to the Duke, and avoiding her mother’s eye, let the Earl lead her to the dance floor.

He was even taller up close, and when he placed his hand behind her for the dance, it almost spanned the whole of her back. She held in a shiver as he pulled her close.

“I thank you, Lord Wexford,” she said, as the orchestra began to play, “for the-” she wasn’t sure what to say.

“Quick escape?” he filled in politely, then smiled down at her. “Ashbury may be rich, but he’s an utter clod on the dance floor. I would save any Lady’s poor feet given the opportunity. Particularly one so beautiful as yourself,” he added as almost an afterthought, looking anywhere but her eyes, as if embarrassed he’d said it.

Dana could feel herself blush and looked down, then heard the sharp words of her dance tutor in her head and snapped her eyes back up.

The Earl was once again looking at her.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” he said and she squinted at him in question. “You know my name, but I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”

“I am Dana Scully,” she said. “My father is -”

“The Marquess of Sunderland,” he finished for her once again, “I had the honor of meeting your father at Court several years ago. He seems a decent man, and from what I hear, was a fine sailor.”

Dana was touched at his kind words. Everyone in London knew of her father’s bad investments and impending ruin. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken of him without sparing a pitying look toward his daughter. Dana felt grateful.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Dana,” he said, as they approached a corner of the dance floor. He turned her expertly, and pulled her in a bit closer.

“We’re being watched quite closely,” Dana observed, finally noticing all the looks they were getting as they moved dreamily along.

“All wondering how I managed to secure a dance with the most beautiful woman at the ball, no doubt,” he said easily.

Dana smiled, charmed.

“And here I thought it was because of your reputation.”

“Reputation?” he said, “I have a reputation?”

Dana laughed.

“If I have learned anything in my twenty four years,” he went on, “it is that people are rarely exactly as their reputation describes them.”

“Oh?” Dana said, hoping he would go on. His voice wasn’t what one would call melodic, but it had a soothing quality to it and his words seemed intelligently selected. But rather than expanding on his statement, he instead chose to peer at her enigmatically and Dana felt a bit like a bug under one of those microscopes she coveted so much.

“All that said,” he said a moment later, “I’d hate for my reputation to color yours. Is there anyone I can escort you back to after the dance has concluded? Another friend or chaperone? I’d hate to deliver you to the arms of the Duke, as I suspect it’s the last place you wish to be?”

Dana sighed.

“You’re right on that front. But he’s meant to be courting me, and I suppose… I should let him.”

“It doesn’t seem a happy prospect,” he said, his eyes searching hers.

“But the only one afforded me as a lady,” she replied sadly.

“Do you wish to marry the man?” he asked.

“I wish to keep my family from ruin,” she said, “and as our society stipulates that I may not work to amass a fortune, my only option left is to marry for one.”

“A practice I’ve always found to be cruel and outdated,” he muttered.

“I heartily agree,” she said.

“Is there no one else?” he asked, “But that... poltroon?”

Dana laughed at the word.

“I’m afraid not, and I don’t have the time to find one, Lord Wexford.”

He gave her a queer look.

“I-” he began to say, but the music had ended and neither of them had noticed. Dana jumped back from his arms and began clapping politely in the direction of the orchestra.

Lord Wexford pulled himself up straight and did the same, and then offered her his arm.

“To the Duke?” he asked her quietly.

“To the Duke,” she said sadly.

The heat of his arm under his coat almost burned her.

[yellowocaballero]

You And Me (And Your Friend Daisy)

Thanks for pushing me to finish this, Anon! This is a short, fun, and romantic story written in the verse of my other fics Bell, Book, and Candle and No Sin But Ignorance. Takes place some time post the ending of No Sin But Ignorance. That being said, this is probably very comprehensible without knowledge of those fics, so feel free to just view it as a no-apocalypse au. The majority of this was written while writing Feste - more accurately, when I needed a break from the crushing depression of Feste, so that’s why it’s so cheerful. :)

Yes, it’s named after that Garfunkel and Oates song, because that’s the plot. 

The rest of the story is under the cut!

*******************************************

“Are you going to tell me where we are?”

“You have to guess! And no peeking!”

Jon sighed, slouching in his seat. He hated surprise vacations. He hated being forced to leave work and ‘take a break’ because ‘you’re contractually obligated to use your PTO hours’. And he did take vacations, he didn’t know why everybody acted like he didn’t. He and Georgie took Gerry to Blackpool once a year for Spring Break. That was a whole week off. That was enough for anybody. 

But Martin had been pointedly sending him emails about ‘fun couple’s trips’ and ‘romantic getaways’ in an ultra-subtle act of subliminal messaging. Indeed, the three emailed promotional advertisements listing off fun, relaxing, and romantic things to do with your significant other were so subtle that Emma was forced to listen in on the automated JAWS voice reading them out and then call him a ‘fucking idiot’. 

Whatever. It wasn’t as if Gertrude took any vacations, and nobody got on her back for it. Jon was willing to bet that Dekker never sent Gertrude any passive aggressive emails. He would have to ask him later - they got boba together once a month, he was an excellent conversational partner. He was, of course, slightly insane, both for his fervent adherence to the ancient religions and willingness to come within five feet of Gertrude Robinson for personal reasons, but all the best supernatural hunters were. 

“Well, we’ve clearly been driving north for the past eight hours, judging from the angle of the sun,” Jon said, annoyed. The car radio was playing the Archers in a dull drone, which Jon had insisted upon, because he and Daisy never missed an episode. This confused and frightened Martin. A bag rustled, and Jon knew that Martin was fishing around in the plastic convenience store sack for more Jaffa cakes. “Combined with the time, that can only mean that we’re going to Scotland. I don’t have any close friends in Scotland and I’m willing to be you don’t either -”

“Hey!”

“ - so unless you assigned yourself the task of following up on the Scottish Slaughter Statement without me assigning it to you, and deciding to bring me along, I’m guessing that we’re going to stay in a hotel and do...touristy things.”

“Wrong again,” Martin said triumphantly. He liked keeping track of every time Jon was innocently incorrect about something, just to prove it to everyone else. “I mean, yes, we are in Scotland, you’re right about that, but we are not staying in a hotel. We’re staying in the country.”

“Darling, I would love to sit on the Scottish Moors and stare out into the endless, unceasing fog with you in complete silence,” Jon said lovingly, “but I thought you wanted to do something romantic.”

“That’s not romantic?” Martin gasped, horrified. “Have you even read Wuthering Heights?”

“You and Gerry are two peas in a goth pod.”

“He’s goth, I’m gothic. There’s a difference. And don’t tell me that you don’t enjoy gothic literature - you’re literally a Byronic hero.”

“Oh, here we go,” Jon sighed, as the car bumped over a speed bump. He hadn’t heard another car for hours now, and he knew that they had to be in the middle of nowhere. The weather had grown colder, more humid, and occasionally he could hear the bleat of cows. It was...calming. 

Then Martin started listing off the very many reasons why Jon was a classical Byronic hero, then Jon had to remind him that none of that stuff had technically happened, then Martin began insisting that it happened in their hearts, then Jon got deeply engrossed into today’s episode of the Archers and felt the need to inform Martin about its illustrious and aged history, which prompted Martin to put on Hatsune Miku when the episode was over and indoctrinate Jon into whatever ‘Vocaloid’ was, and by the time the car transitioned to skittering over bumpy gravel they were both entering a heated discussion about the most superior of the ‘Vocaloids’. 

“ - and she created Minecraft?”

“And she’s trans,” Martin said heatedly. 

“Good for her,” Jon said, just bemused. The car engine quieted, and keys clinked and rustled. “Are we here?”

“Yep! Seven hours later.” Martin sighed and made a quiet, satisfied noise, probably stretching, and Jon didn’t bother to fight his smile. Man was like a cat. “I want to show you around and everything, but honestly that drive was exhausting and I might take a nap first.” He sighed happily. “Peace. Quiet. No coworkers.”

“I’m your coworker,” Jon pointed out, opening the door of the car as Martin did the same. He stepped onto gravel, grinding his trainer a little into it, and breathed in. The air tasted...fresh. Clean. Pure and just a little chilly. It was nice. It perked Jon up, as the wind lightly tousled his curls. He stretched his legs too, cramped from being knitted up in the small car. Martin popped the boot and started loading packages into his arms, and Jon walked over and held his arms out so he could help Martin carry the packages. Martin dropped a picnic basket filled with snacks in his arms, and handed him his own suitcase, as Martin dropped his own suitcase on the ground with a heavy thump. “How does a teenage girl create a video game? That’s very impressive.”

“This week you are my boyfriend,” Martin corrected him, thumping the boot down. “No Emma getting on my case about misfiling the papers. No Michael concern trolling me. No Eric judging me for my taste in tea. No Gertrude terrifying me every second of the day. I am free. I am not going to think about work, or anybody related to work, for a single second. No Entities. No fear demons. No monsters, besides my boyfriend.”

“Thanks,” Jon said wryly. “Aren’t we forgetting someone?”

“Oh, darn it!” Martin opened the back door of the car, and pulled out a carrier. The wire door of the carrier cinched open and Tiresias came bounding out, barking madly and running in little circles around Jon, his tail beating against Jon’s leg. Jon laughed, lifting his burden higher in his arms, and let Martin loop his arm around Jon’s and guide him towards what he had to assume was some kind of building. “C’mere, boy. Good boy! You were so good for the trip! You’re getting a hundred snacks as soon we get inside.”

“Are you going to tell me where we are yet?” Jon asked, exasperated. 

Martin squeezed his arm happily as they walked up an incline, shoes scuffing dirt. “I got permission from Daisy to borrow it. It’s her cabin, just outside of Applecross. It’s really in the middle of nowhere, nobody around for kilometers. Just us and a great deal of cows. It’s really gorgeous, Jon, with such clean air and beautiful hills. I can’t wait to go for walks with you. You’ll get so much time to go through your audiobook collection. And we can snuggle, and I can cook for you, and we can listen to more radio dramas, and we can talk about our future, and you can pet the cows…”

“Sounds wonderful,” Jon said honestly, squeezing Martin’s arm back. They paused, Martin rustling his keys again, and Jon heard the grinding of metal before a door seemed to creak open. “I can’t wait to spend this week with you. I could use a little peace, I think.”

“Gods, me too. You have no idea how stressed I’ve been. It’ll be just you, me, and -”

That’s when Martin screamed, and Tiresias barked excitedly and ran forward, almost bowling Jon over, and a familiar voice broke the quiet of the rustic cabin. 

“Aren’t you a good boy, Tiresias? Aren’t you a good boy?” Daisy Tonner’s grin was audible through her words, but it held a familiar tint of ferociousness. “Hullo, Jon. Blackwood. What are you doing here a week early?”

“Early!” Martin squeaked. “I said we were coming up the first week of September -”

“Really?” Daisy said, voice casual. Seemingly. “Because I have it down in my calendar as the second week. This is my vacation. And I’m not leaving.”

Silence stretched between them. Jon smiled happily towards the sound of Daisy’s voice, placing his burdens at his feet, and soon Daisy walked forward and enveloped him in a bone cracking hug. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Jon said, hugging her tightly back too. “I’m sure we can share the cabin for the week. It’ll be fun, like a sleepover!”

“Oh, I think so too,” Daisy said, her voice tinged in a wolf’s grin. “Don’t you think so, Martin?”

“Good fucking christ,” Martin said. 

****

True to his word, Martin was exhausted enough that he immediately made the bed and collapsed into it. Jon lovingly took off his shoes and socks and Tiresias even, adorably, pulled the comforter up around Martin’s ears. But Martin didn’t sleep: he seemed preoccupied in angrily muttering to himself about how he didn’t get the time wrong, she did, this was all her fault, and it was also completely on purpose, devil woman, everybody was trying to ruin everything - 

“Love, if I ask her to go, she’ll go,” Jon said. 

“No! Ugh!” Martin screamed lowly, muffled, and Jon realized with amusement he was screaming into the pillow. “It’s her house, she’s doing us a favor, I don’t want to be rude! I can’t kick her out of her own home!”

“Are you going to be passive aggressive at her until she leaves?”

Incriminatingly, Martin was silent. 

“She’s more stubborn than you are. If you try to solve this with your usual methods she’ll outlast you.”

“I hate her so much,” Martin groaned. 

“Don’t say that,” Jon said loyally. “She’s really come around to you, you know. She hasn’t threatened to chop your dick off in - oh, two weeks now. That’s a new record.”

Martin groaned again. Jon kissed him on the cheek, turned the light off - “Jon, you just turned the light on.” - turned the light off for real this time, and went into the living room/dining room/kitchen to start putting away all the food they had brought. He bent over his suitcase, withdrawing Tiresias’ harness, and whistled to call him over before snapping the harness on. Tiresias stiffened into what Georgie called ‘Buisness Boy Mode’, and Jon grabbed his handle with one hand as he loaded the groceries into the other. 

“Here, let me help.” Daisy lifted the other load from the floor, leading the both of them into the kitchen and opening the fridge. “I know Georgie’s organizational system.”

Jon just sighed, slowly navigating his way to the fridge to put his own load away. They had clothing to unpack, things to set up, and arrangements to plan, but Jon had the sense that none of it was getting done immediately. 

“What were your plans for this week?”

“I normally go up here to hunt,” Daisy grunted, sliding cans into the cabinet. At Jon’s raised eyebrow, she clarified, “with guns. They’re all locked up in the gun cabinet, as is my ammo and knives. Neither you nor Martin have the keys, but the cabinet is in a closet near the bathroom. That should be locked too.”

“Goodness, Daisy, I’m not an errant toddler. I won’t play with your collection.”

“You’re my errant toddler,” Daisy said loyally, giving him a noogie and making him scowl. “Say it. Say you’re an errant toddler.”

“Goodness, Daisy, leave me be -”

Then she lifted him up, like he was nothing more than a bundle of sticks, and held him in the air as he screamed and kicked his legs, trying to get down. Tiresias, the Traitor, the Serpent, the King of Lies, barked happily. “Let me down! Daisy!”

“Say you’re an errant toddler and I’ll let you down.”

“I shan’t. Daisy, stop -!” But then she started tickling him, which was extremely dangerous, and Jon was forced to cackle out in breathless laughter, “Fine, I’m a toddler, let me down, you crazy woman!”

She tossed him lightly onto the pull-out couch, putting away the rest of the groceries herself, and Jon let Tiresias sit on top of him and lick his face as he could almost audibly hear Martin pouting in the bedroom. 

“This’ll be fun,” Daisy said, shutting the cabinet and rustling some familiar boxes. “Can’t believe Tim paid me fifty quid to do this. I would have done it for free.”

“Do what?”

“Never mind. I have your copy of Life, do you want to play?”

“Sure!” Jon sat up, feeling Daisy sit down next to him and set out the game pieces. Then something occurred to him. “Wait. What are you doing with my copy of Life?”

“Georgie lent it to me.”

“...why did Georgie -”

“I was going to leave it here for when you came up,” Daisy said easily, and Jon nodded in acceptance. “Spin the spinner to see whose turn comes first.”

Jon considered thinking deeper about this, but Daisy wouldn’t lie to him. She was the most trustworthy person he knew. She didn’t have a deceitful bone in her body. He shrugged and reached forward and found the spinner, giving it a good twist before rubbing his thumb over the braille. Something occurred to him. 

“Maybe we can ask Martin if he wants to join -”

“I’m sure he would prefer his rest.”

“Okay!”

This vacation was going to go great. Why had Jon been worried?

****

That night they had a delicious barbecue outside, cooked by Daisy. Martin ate it in angry silence, which was quickly broken by Jon’s frequent nudges and directions for conversation. He wasn’t the most socially adept person at the best of times, but Martin and Daisy were two of his best friends and he knew how to get the both of them talking. He was even able to draw them into a spirited conversation about 19th century literature - Daisy preferred Russian novels, while Martin preferred Gothic romances and Hugo and Jon tended towards nonfiction. Afterwards Daisy grabbed her gun, kissed Jon on the cheek, did something that made Martin squeak in fear, and tramped off to go hunt deer or something. Jon waved her off with a blessing, his sixth sense thrumming with satisfaction for the Sacrifice. 

He spent the night cuddled up with Martin, watching Beauty and the Beast on his laptop. Martin was obsessed with Disney movies in a way that explained a great deal about him, and Beauty and the Beast was his absolute favorite. Jon ran his fingers through his soft and feathery hair as Martin squeezed his hand, and Jon’s heart settled in complete contentment. The audio description voice droned gently about the heartwarming falling in love montages, but Jon wasn’t really paying attention: he just felt safe, and warm, and as if he wanted the moment to last forever. 

Then his mobile rang, a clear automated voice saying “Gerard calling. Gerard calling.”

“Oh, I should get that.” Jon straightened, throwing out a hand on the coffee table where he thought he had put his phone, and Martin pressed it into his hand. He accepted the call quickly, putting it on speaker and holding it up to his ear just like, he was reliably assured, ‘an old man’. “Hello, honey?”

“Jon!” Gerry yelled. “Did you get the cabin okay?”

“Oh, so everyone knew but me,” Jon said, amused. “You’re on speaker, Gerry, so say hello to Mr. Blackwood.”

“Hi Martin! Are you guys having a good time? You have to take me next time, I want to see Daisy’s guns!”

“You will not see Daisy’s guns,” Jon said quickly. 

“Hi Gerry,” Martin said, a smile clear in his somewhat strained voice. “Sure, you and Georgie should come up next time. Make it a party. Why not.”

“Told you she’d do it,” Georgie said, and Jon perked up. “Hullo, love. How’s your romantic getaway going?”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Jon said, excited. “We’re going to walk down to the town tomorrow, check out some of their antique stores. I’ll let you know if we find any interesting art.”

“I’ve been up to Daisy’s cabin a few times with Melanie, it’s delightful. Great place for her to hunt and for me to practice my carrion photography. It’s always nice just to get away from it all! I hope you haven’t touched any work, Jon.”

“I haven’t,” Jon said loyally. He paused a beat. “Do Statements count? Because I was planning on listening to a few recorded ones as a sort of bedtime story?”

“That’s just self-care,” Georgie assured him. “Treat yourself, queen.”

“Thanks, honey. Make sure Gerry gets his homework done? Do you need any help? I have some time now -”

“I got it,” Georgie said, laughing slightly. “I can still help a fifteen year old with his English. I’ll make sure he brushes his teeth too. Just enjoy yourself.”

“Have a good time, Dad!” Gerry called, the affectionate nickname making Jon smile. “Bring me back a cow!” Slightly more muffled, Jon heard him say to Georgie, “Mum, when Jon goes on a romantic getaway, what do you think they -”

“Night, honey! Night, Martin! Love you!” Georgie called loudly.

Jon laughed, unable to stop himself from waving a little, as if they were there. “Night, you two. Love you too. Stay safe.”

“We will! Bye!”

The line clicked off, and Martin’s arm stretched across Jon’s shoulders squeezed a little tighter. Jon extended a foot and clicked the space bar on the computer, starting up the movie again. 

“You’d make a really good dad,” Martin said, almost to himself. 

Jon settled back against Martin, leaning his head against his shoulder. “I feel like one already, honestly. Obviously, I have far more experience with teenagers than babies, but they can’t be that hard. If I don’t drop them…why?”

Martin coughed a little, abruptly flustered. “No reason! No reason.”

“Do you want kids?”

“Can’t exactly have them biologically,” Martin muttered, before sighing. “Yeah, I’d love to...foster or adopt or something. I’ve had my - differences - with my parents, but I’m still glad they adopted me, you know? I’d like to pass that on. But...better. Much better.”

“Georgie is talking about fostering again once Gerard moves in with Eric,” Jon said quietly. The thought of Gerry moving out, of living full time with Eric again - it just seemed weird. Almost wrong, although it wasn’t - Eric adored Gerry, and he was a competent father. It was just that...well, technically, Gerry had been living with them since the beginning of the universe. On a purely literal level, they really had always had Gerry with them. It would be strange. “As a - recipient of the foster care system myself, I’d like to make a difference too.” He smiled thinly. “We’re very compatible, aren’t we?”

“Would it be...you and Georgie…?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Martin sighed a little. “Is it dumb that sometimes it feels like you already have a family built in?”

Hm. Jon hadn’t quite thought about it that way. “You know those jokes about me and Georgie being married are just jokes,” Jon said reproachfully. 

Martin moved away a little, leaning forward, slipping his arm from Jon’s shoulder. He abruptly missed the warmth. “But you’re partners. You’re raising a kid. And I know Daisy and Tim think of themselves as your overprotective big siblings, they aren’t even wrong.”

“Many people have siblings? And friends? Some even have kids, I’ve heard.”

“I don’t.” There was really nothing for Jon to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. “I don’t want my entire social circle to just be through you…”

“It won’t be,” Jon said firmly, reaching out a hand and brushing it against Martin’s arm. He squeezed it firmly. “You don’t have to be Lonely anymore, Martin. I won’t let you.”

“Is that a promise?” Martin said, as if he was joking, as if Jon wasn’t certain that he wasn’t. As if he needed the reassurance. 

“How can you be lonely when I’m here?” Jon said, and trailed his hand up along Martin’s arm until he reached his neck and he could cup his face. He rubbed a thumb against his wispy stubble, light and thin. “I’m right here.”

Martin kissed him, and then the movie was quite thoroughly forgotten as Jon necked with his boyfriend on the couch like a teenager. They forgot everything, and for a small period of glorious time Jon forgot everything that he knew, in all of its entirety, and his Eye saw only the here and now. 

Then the door thumped open, the wind blew into the cabin, and heavy footsteps thumped into the room. Something dragged behind the footsteps, something that sounded a bit...wet. 

Martin, who was thoroughly on top of Jon and almost done unbuttoning his shirt, froze. Jon just craned his head, trying to hear the sounds of what was likely a dead deer being pulled in through the entrance way better. 

“Hello Daisy!” Jon said, still pinned down. “How was your hunting?”

“Lucrative. We’re eating venison tomorrow.”

“Great! Need any help getting that put away?”

“No, I’m good.” Tiresias barked happily. “Here, boy, you can have a little. Good boy. I’ll probably skin and clean it outside, I just wanted to get my gloves.”

“Take your time!”

Martin sighed and got off Jon, straightening his own clothing. “Yeah, Daisy, take your time.”

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Daisy said blithely. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You’re fine,” Jon assured her, fixing his own hair from where it had grown tangled. “Want to finish this movie with us?”

“Sure, let me gut this animal first.”

“Great! Scooch over, Martin.”

“You know,” Martin said, “maybe we want to move to the bedroom?”

“If we stay in the living room I can hook up your laptop to the television and we can watch the movie that way,” Daisy said innocently. 

“That sounds good,” Jon agreed. He patted Martin’s hand. “Is that alright with you?”

Martin sighed. “Yeah. Of course.”

That night, Jon curled up next to Martin on the creaky wooden bed, listening to the flies buzz around them and the crickets hiss their lilting song outdoors. 

His earbuds were still nestled in his ears, the soft hum of his Walkman cutting the quiet night, his own pre-recorded voice reading out a story. Martin sat next to him, and occasionally Jon could hear the soft shift of the pages of a book turning. Every so often Martin would gasp, or make a little noise at some exciting event in his book. 

Jon rolled over, throwing out an arm and pulling Martin in close, resting his head on Martin’s shoulder as he let the earbuds roll gently out of his ears. Martin was soft and warm, the cotton of his t-shirt rubbing up against Jon’s cheek, and Jon let his mind gently bliss out and drift away. 

He thought about the breakfast he wanted to make the next morning, and of the soft beat of Scottish sun on his face. He thought about the creak of cobblestones as jumped-up jalopies rolled over them, and of the shifting and groan of old wood. He thought of the bright, sharp summer smell of the highlands, and the sinking and sticky marshland. 

“We should visit the antique store in town tomorrow,” Jon murmured. “Georgie’s been looking for a new lamp, and I think they should have a nice Rococo one for cheap.”

“Oh? Maybe I can pick something up too.” Martin gently scratched Jon’s scalp, making him bliss out even further. “Nice of you to always loop us in on the best deals, you little shopping catalogue.”

They, of course, had not been to the town yet, and there was no reason for Jon to know of the antique store, or the Rococo lamp. Jon hadn’t even thought about it, the information as available and easy as the layout of the convenience store down the street and a left turn from his childhood council flat. 

Martin’s voice broke the quiet, cutting through the buzz of insects. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know everything,” Jon yawned, snuggling into Martin’s side closer. 

“Not what I meant.” Martin hesitated, almost awkwardly. “You’re a literal mind reader and everything, but I’m not, so…”

“Oh, Martin.” Jon reached a hand up and cupped Martin’s cheek. “I built this world from the bedrock of my love for you.”

“Uh - wow! That’s - it’s kind of weird how you can just say that and have it be true!”

“Our lives are weird,” Jon agreed, brushing his thumb over Martin’s lips, and he carefully leaned his head up to kiss him, and they passed the long silent minutes just like that. 

Several hours later, Jon found himself jerking awake. Martin was snoring beside him, and he couldn’t feel any sun on his face, so Jon figured it was likely still nighttime. He carefully slipped out of bed, reaching out a hand and trailing it along the wall until he managed to leave the bedroom, navigate down the hall, and enter what he was fairly sure was the living room. 

“Jon?” A voice broke the night. Daisy, who had taken the pull-out couch. “You looking for the loo?”

It was only then that Jon realized that he didn’t know why he had gotten up. Tiresias snored loudly in the kitchen, adding a subtle undertone to the noise from outside, and Jon found himself shrugging helplessly. “I don’t think so. Did I wake you up?”

“Nah. Hold tight, I’ll help you to the couch.” Sure enough, after the almost silent footsteps echoed through the main room Jon felt a soft hand on his back, and she led him towards the couch. Jon lightly kicked it, testing its height, and gently lowered himself onto it, the springs of the pull-out bed breaking through the night. “What has you up?”

Jon just shrugged again. The bed creaked beside him, and he felt calloused fingers carding through his hair with gentleness that would have been surprising to most people. 

“Am I a bad boyfriend?” Jon asked, surprising himself. He hadn’t even known he was thinking that. 

“Did Blackwood tell you that you were?” Daisy asked sharply. 

“No! No, not at all.” Jon sighed. “I just...I just have different needs than him.” He could already tell what Daisy was thinking, and he shook his head. “Not about the - the you know what thing. I just...I know how much he loves me. I know what he thinks of me, I know his dedication to me. Sometimes I just assume that he’s - capable, of what I’m capable of. Do I not tell him I love him enough? Am I not affectionate enough?”

“You aren’t as perceptive as you think you are, Jon,” Daisy said, amused. “I think you’ll find that Blackwood has quite a few more secrets than you think he does.” She untangled her fingers from his hair and squeezed his arm. “Blackwood’s insecure. All insecure people want mindreader boyfriends. But you force him to use his words and ask for what he needs, Jon. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s good for him. He needs to learn to speak up for himself.” She hummed slightly. “He reminds me of Basira, a little. She’ll never tell you that you bothered her, and she just lets it pile up and up. But then you go just a little too far, and then she explodes all of that pent up anger and frustration on you. She likes to pretend she’s a real robot, but she’s just as human as the rest of them.”

“I’m so terrified of Basira,” Jon said miserably. “Remember when I dropped a plate and she told me that the reason why my gran didn’t love me was because I was an attention seeking nine year old?”

“She’s so mean. I love her so much.” Daisy patted Jon on the back. “Buck up. I’m working on Blackwood. You focus on enjoying your vacation.”

Jon let himself lean to the side, resting his head on Daisy’s shoulder. “I’m worried that Martin will realize that I’m not capable of expressing romantic affection in a socially typical manner and leave me.”

“God, shut up, whiner.” But the bed creaked and Daisy’s head gently slid out from under his shoulder, and Daisy gently helped Jon to his feet. “I’ll get you back to bed. Bitch about your imaginary relationship problems to me in the morning.”

Translated: I love you, I’ll always be here for you, and goodnight. Jon huffed a quiet laugh. “Aren’t the lights off? How can you see anything?”

When Daisy spoke again, a quiet bass growl echoed underneath her words, and Jon grinned with her. He Knew, like how he Knew that he loved Martin enough to destroy the world, that Daisy’s eyes were flickering yellow in the darkness. “Don’t be fooled by appearances, Jon.”

She helped him back to bed, and when Jon slept through the rest of the night he dreamed of nothing but Martin’s weight on his. 

****

“What a beautiful morning!” Martin said loudly. “The birds are chirping, the Scottish highlands are beautiful, I am here on my romantic vacation away from everybody with only my lovely boyfriend for company - and Daisy Tonner!”

“Glad to be here,” Daisy said affably. 

“This is so much fun!” Martin said, still loudly.

“I think so too!” Jon said enthusiastically.

Tiresias barked. 

After a breakfast pointedly prepared by Martin, they all got dressed and saddled up to go walk into the village. It was a quick walk, only about twenty minutes, and Martin and Daisy enjoyed the scenery as Jon enjoyed the warm grip of Martin’s hand in his and the breeze on his face. 

When the trail began sloping further downhill, and their footsteps began to slide against the incline, Jon pulled what Gerry would have called a ‘pro-gamer move’ and moved his grip up until he was clinging to Martin’s arm. Martin sprayed a hand out, resting it against Jon’s back, and helped him down the trail. 

“Whoah! You alright, honey? Careful of your step!”

“Jesus christ,” Daisy muttered. 

“It’s hardly Jon’s fault -” Martin began heatedly. 

“Yeah, Daisy,” Jon said, delighting in setting them against each other like the cold, uncaring god he was, “check your privilege.”

Then they were off, because despite Daisy was allergic to social consciousness, and Jon whistled a jaunty tune, composed in the 15th century and unknown to all but its lonely shepherd creator, as they navigated their way downwards. 

The village was small, nothing more than two streets with cheerful wooden facades and swing porches set out on the decks with wizened elderly people sipping from bottles of Irn Bru and smoking down cigarettes to the dregs. At least, as narrated by Martin, who seemed to already be mentally writing his small-town murder mystery in the Scottish highlands (Martin’s poetry needed work, but his fiction held a certain massmarket appeal). Knowing Martin, the protaganist would likely be either a grandmother with his own personality, or a thirtysomething gay man who had twelve counts of arson on his record and was running from the cops. 

Wait. Wait, Jon should use his words. Ask instead of look. Display interest in Martin’s inner life - which, granted, seemed to be a waste of time when Jon could just Know and not waste his breath, but Georgie had been coaching him in this. 

“You should give the ex-con narrator a boyfriend,” Jon said supportively. “Maybe bring back the gay bar owner from the last book?”

Martin almost tripped over the gravel. “How did you know I was thinking of - Jon, I told you not to read my mind!”

“Lay off, you know he doesn’t do it on purpose,” Daisy said uninterestedly, growling at what Jon guessed were passerby on the street. 

“Daisy, stop telling me how to talk to my boyfriend -”

“Oh, he’s your boyfriend now, is he?”

“Yes! Yes, he is!”

“Let’s get some ice cream!” Jon said loudly. 

“How did you even know there was an ice cream - fine! Fine, of course!” Martin sighed loudly. “Why not!”

As it turned out, they were right in front of ice cream. Jon loved it when things worked out. 

****

Twenty minutes later, after Martin laboriously reading out all of the entirely too many flavors to Jon, Daisy growling at everybody at the store like an errant dog, fighting with the owner of the store extremely politely about his actual dog existing, and finally taking their ice cream outside to sit at a picnic bench and attack their waffle cones, Jon felt content. 

He indicated this by telling everybody everything he knew about emulsifiers, which were extremely neat and a lot of fun! Because nobody was stopping him talking by saying ‘let’s talk about something else, Jon’ or ‘isn’t that a bit boring, Jon?’ he moved onto the history of waffle cones, safe in his assumption that everybody was as interested in the topic as he was. 

“I love you so much,” Martin said, somewhat dazed, when Jon stopped to draw a breath. “Did you know that this is the second time this has happened?”

That stopped Jon short, when nothing else did. “Really? Has it?”

Martin’s spoon scraped his small paper bowl. “Yep. Uh - for my birthday, I think. Me, Tim, and - and Sasha, and you. You ordered rum raisin. I was thinking...did you actually like rum raisin? Or did you just panic?” He laughed, somewhat self-consciously. “You didn’t remember about it even before the whole apocalypse thing, so no sweat, but…”

“Oh.” Jon realized, for probably the fifth time, that Martin held years and years worth of memories in him, and that Jon had only fragments and impressions. He knew that he had everything important, that everything he needed was within him, but - did he? What if he was missing the key to everything, the key to Martin, and all he needed was to just Look deeper? “That’s - I could remember it, if I wanted.”

“It’s fine, Jon,” Daisy said quietly. “Don’t go giving yourself a migraine.”

“I could,” Jon insisted. “I’d like to remember something like your birthday, Martin. Precious memories, or - or something. Give me a moment, I can send a quick prayer, and -”

“You know,” Martin said, and he squeezed Jon’s hand. “I’d rather make new memories right now. Where we are right now, that’s - that’s the most important place, innit?”

Jon smiled at him, and he knew, in the most mundane of ways, Martin was smiling back. “I like to think so too.”

“Ugh,” Daisy teased, although perhaps to an outsider it may have sounded mean, “get that sappy shit outta my face.”

“You’re just as bad with Basira,” Jon shot back, smiling. “You two are in love -”

“Take that shit back,” Daisy hissed. 

“You want to get married -”

“Who told you!”

Jon tapped the lens of his glasses smugly. “A little Eye told me.”

“Beholding cuck.”

“No, that’s Peter -”

“Martin would know all about Peter, huh?” Daisy sneered, and the pressure on Jon’s hand intensified for a brief second before it withdrew completely, leaving his hand cold and empty.

“Jon, can you give me and Daisy a few minutes of privacy, please?” Martin said pleasantly. 

Jon raised an eyebrow, licking the ice cream dripping down his hand. It was Vast flavor. Tasted like...ozone. “Why?”

“He doesn’t know the area, you can’t send him off alone,” Daisy shot back, strangely smugly. “Come on, Blackwood. Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it in front of him.”

“You know what, fine. Fine!” Martin thumped the table, making Jon start and Tireasias stiffen. “I have done nothing that warrants this kind of treatment from you. You are disrespecting me, disrespecting my relationship, and you are insulting my fucking intelligence. I appreciate you loaning us your cabin, but if I knew that it would come with strings attached then I would have paid for my own bloody hotel! Why are you doing this!”

“Tim gave me fifty quid,” Daisy said, like the wolf that had caught the canary. “Plus it’s fucking funny.”

“Done what?” Jon asked, confused. 

“I want you out of my vacation, Daisy,” Martin hissed. “If you won’t leave the cabin, then I am booking my own Air BnB and that’s fucking final! I don’t care if I have to - to fight you in the street about it, I can and I will, you don’t want to mess with me -”

“Sure.”

Martin stopped short. Jon licked his ice cream, fascinated by the drama. “What?”

“I said sure,” Daisy enunciated clearly. “I was waiting for you to fucking say it. I told Basira I’d be home by tonight, anyway. Knew you’d snap.”

“I - what! What! What?!”

“You’re a pushover, Blackwood,” Daisy said. “Your coworkers, your friends, everyone - they just walk all over you. It’s fucking stupid. You are the archival assistant who survived the apocalypse with memories and sanity intact. You lasted longer on the position than anyone since Emma Harvey, and you didn’t have to lose your soul to do it. You looked Elias in the face as you burned his Archives down. You’re not a pussy. And I was sick of seeing you act like one. It’s fucking annoying.”

“I hate you so fucking much,” Martin whispered, somewhat in shock. 

“Well, I hate seeing my best friend date a passive aggressive loser, so we’re both unhappy.” Daisy stood up, feet shuffling against the cement, and Jon felt her press a kiss against his forehead. “You two have a nice day out. I’m going to go hunt things, and head back to London. Take care of yourself, Jon. And cut out the PDA, it’s gross.”

Suddenly, violently, with a crushing realization, the entire vacation was recontextualized. 

“I don’t appreciate any of this,” Jon said crossly, scowling in her direction. “Honestly, Daisy, you don’t -”

“Blame Tim. Love you, Jon. Love you, sweet puppy. See you later, Blackwood.”

Jon and Martin sat in silence as the sound of footsteps receded from Jon’s hearing, and the low murmur of the small village set in around them. Martin still seemed to slightly be in shock, his ice cream slowly melting, and Tiresias yawned sleepily in the sun. 

“I hate her so fucking much,” Martin whispered. 

But Jon just smiled, and reached out to brush a thumb over Martin’s close-cropped hair. He leaned in, whispering into Martin’s ear. “Hearing you yell at the scariest woman I know who isn’t Gertrude Robinson was pretty fucking sexy, love.”

“I hate her so - wait, it was? Really?” Martin coughed awkwardly. “Well, she really had it coming, and it’s not a huge deal, and I know she’s your best friend and I should be nice to her, but -”

“ - but she was right,” Jon said firmly. “An arse about making her point, but she was right. I’m working on using my words. You should too. All of the books say communication is key in a relationship. So let’s communicate, alright?” He faltered a little, uncertain if Daisy would want him to say this. “And - and it was obvious, from what she said, that Daisy respects you. It’s a very difficult thing, to win Daisy’s respect. I think she was trying to help us, in her own - unorthodox manner.”

“I hate her so much,” Martin groaned. 

“It was very sexy,” Jon hinted. 

Martin leaned in and kissed Jon lightly, and Jon could feel his smile against his own. “How about we finish our food,” he said quietly, “walk around town for a bit, buy some souvenirs for your family, and then go back to the cabin and snog and cuddle for a very long time? If that’s okay with you?”

“I’d like nothing more,” Jon said. 

And he was right. It was messy, and weird, and painfully uncomfortable.

 It was perfect.

[teannamon]

The Black Cat and the Princess (ML Fic) 6

Cover art by deryuj :>

[ Family Switch AU ]  Marinette’s the only child of fashion icon Gabriel Agreste, and Adrien is the adopted child of Sabine and Tom Dupain-Cheng, two of the best bakers in Paris. What happens when their paths meet?

↫ Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Adrien gets a visit from Marinette at the bakery.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Adrien groaned as he turned off his alarm. He was tired from last night’s party, not because of the party itself but because he spent most of his energy trying to calm down a drunk Alya from participating in another “Alcohol or Awful” drinking game. Ultimately, Nino decided to just take her home and he also decided to call it a night. At 3 am.

He rubbed his eyes and stretched to get ready for his weekend baking duties. Dropping down from his bed he grabbed a quick change of clothes and headed to the bathroom.

‘Not awful but not amazing either’ he thought to himself as he viewed his tired self in the mirror. After washing his face with cold water, he quickly changed into clean clothes. That’s when he noticed something missing from the hamper.

His favorite cardigan.

“Did I leave it at the party?” he asked out loud while double checking the hamper, but he remembered Marinette. Seeing her shiver from the gym clothes she changed into prompted him to lend her his cardigan so she would at least feel better from whatever happened to her.

“I’ll see her at school anyways, at least she’ll get home in better conditions” he said to no one in particular as he opened the trapdoor to head downstairs.

Sabine already prepared him a meal for him at the counter-three pieces of croissants, omelet, and a cup of coffee. She waited for him all night, so she knows how tired he must’ve been.

“Good morning dear, eat up so you can help your father downstairs” she greeted while taking a sip of her tea. Adrien gave her a kiss on the cheek as he sat down to eat, “Thanks mom”

“No problem hun, drunk Alya again?” she asked and Adrien chuckled while stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“You know it” he said after swallowing. He was enjoying his meal and almost choked when he heard his mother’s next question.

“Speaking of Alya, she mentioned you’re seeing a girl named Marinette is it?”

“N-no,” he sputtered out “Well technically I see her everyday because miraculously our schedules are almost identical, but she’s just a friend I swear Alya is just-and why are you laughing?”

His mom covered her mouth to stop her from laughing too loud but eventually calmed down, “You’re cute when you’re defensive, and Alya didn’t tell me anything. Actually, Marinette is at the bakery downstairs, said she wanted to bring back something for you”

She gave him a wink as she said, “I bet your father is already talking to her”

“What?!” the blonde boy ate his breakfast with much speed so he could head downstairs.

Meanwhile, Marinette and Tom were making small talk while he set the pastries on the display cases. She was in awe at the wonderful smell of fresh morning pastry, she made note to come here every morning that she can.

“I hear Alya mention your name a lot whenever she comes here, I’m guessing you’re that young designer she’s very fond of”

Said designer smiled sheepishly, “I guess you can say that. She has a lot of my outfits to say the least, and I’m glad we’re friends now”

Tom hummed in response before offering her a red velvet cupcake, “That’s great to hear, here’s a cupcake for making you wait long. Free of charge”

“Oh! that’s so nice of you, sir. It’s no bother though, I didn’t mind waiting”

“Even so, please take it. I’m sure one cupcake won’t hurt”

She happily took the cupcake and took a small bite, she was delighted by the taste “This is very delicious!” she exclaimed.

“I’m glad you like it; this is Adrien’s specialty” he gave her a knowing look she didn’t quite catch on as she’s too invested in the cupcake.

Another mental note-ask them to cater one of her future parties.

Just then Adrien burst in through the door that leads to the bakery.

“Good morning, Adrien” he greets with a large smile. Marinette peeks around the display case on the counter obstructing her view to see the person who he came here for.

“Hi Adrien” she waves with her cupcake in hand.

“Good morning dad, Marinette” he greeted back, sounding a bit out of breath.

He puts on an apron before taking his post behind the counter. At that moment his father conveniently ran out of cookies to put on display.

“Ah would you look at that, I’m all out” he said all too cheerfully and left for the kitchen door in quick strides “I’ll leave you two here then. Alone. Together”

Adrien internally facepalmed, ‘Not being subtle at all, dad’ and with that Tom closed the door behind him and as he said, leaving the two alone together.

He turned back to face Marinette who had no idea what just transpired as she just finished her cupcake. He noticed the custom cupcake liner he always used for his own cupcake recipe so he cheerfully told her, “That’s my special cupcake, what do you think? It’s a Crowd Favorite”

“It tastes amazing! I love the mix of dark chocolate and strawberry” she excitedly told him, “oh and the marshmallow frosting is such a cool idea. Does it have a name?”

Adrien resisted a chuckle, “I told you it’s a Crowd Favorite”

She rolled her eyes, “Well yeah, I meant special recipes have names right?”

He pointed his thumb towards the display case lined with his special cupcakes under the tag “Crowd Favorite”. This made Marinette groan but then chuckled after “Oh my gosh, you really are such a dork”

The blonde laughed with her and shrugged, “Well what can I say, I really am adorkable” repeating his statement last night, which reminded him.

“Anyway, I forgot to ask how you were since last night?”

“I got home safely thankfully, and speaking of” she reached down and placed a paper bag on the counter “you really didn’t need to lend me your cardigan you know but I do appreciate the gesture”

She smiled sweetly and Adrien couldn’t help but feel flustered as he recalled how close they were when he mindlessly carried her on the way out. He rubbed the back of his neck as he took the paper bag and placed it under the counter.

Just then the bell chimed and Adrien instinctively greeted whoever entered the bakery, “Good morning, how can I help you today?”

The blunette moved a little to the side to give way for the customer to approach the counter. She was wondering where the customer was until she looked down and saw a short old man wearing a red Hawaiian shirt. 

“Hello Mr Wang, the usual?” Adrien asked with such familiarity. The old man nodded and smiled. As Adrien turned around to pack up his orders the old man, Mr Wang, turned to the female visitor who busied herself looking at the other pastries on display.

“Here you go, I added an extra cinnamon roll from the burnt pile as well” Adrien handed him a small box of pastries and took his payment. 

“Thank you, Adrien. See you again tomorrow” Mr Wang took one last glance at Marinette as he left. The bell chimed as the door closed behind him.

Sensing that the day would get busier as time went on Marinette decided to say her goodbyes and leave. She approached the counter to face Adrien.

“Well, I guess I should go too since I already did what I came here to do but I’d love to come visit the bakery again” 

“No problem, Marinette. See you tomorrow at school” he waved as she left the bakery.

As soon as she left he turned to the kitchen door to see both his parents peeking through the small window obviously spying on their adorable son and his equally adorable female classmate.

———————-

“Are you done with your errands?” Gabriel asked her daughter thru the phone.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Yes father, we’re en route to the mall like you said”

Another event that she’s obligated to attend being the secondary face of the Agreste brand. That, and she needs to make up for her mishap last night.

“Good, and don’t forget to fix how you look all the time. I wouldn’t want to go through all the trouble of trying to get rid of unpleasant images of you uploaded to the net for everyone to see”

“Noted” she snapped as the call ended. She sighed and sank to her seat as they drove thru the city.

Last Night…

Chloe’s limo stopped in front of the Agreste mansion’s gate. Gabriel Agreste was already waiting for Marinette as soon as he got his daughter’s call.

“Ugh this won’t be good” she groaned and Chloe looked at her friend sympathetically.

The blonde patted her back, “Hey Mari, at least you had fun. Whatever your dad will tell you now shouldn’t take that away”

Marinette smiled at Chloe, she really was thankful for her. No matter how shallow and self-centered she might be at times she really does understand her and comes through when times get hard. 

“Thanks Chloe, see you on Monday” she said as she was about to leave.

She stood next to Gabriel as the limo left. 

He looked at her current get-up, “Those were not the clothes you left with tonight”

She looked down and wrapped the cardigan around her tighter, “Yes, I know. Can we get inside and I’ll explain everything”

He didn’t say a word but both of them went inside the mansion. As soon as they stepped foot inside he looked at her for an explanation.

Taking a deep breath she told him how she got soaked in juice, had a senior let her borrow gym clothes from a schoolmate, and Adrien letting her borrow his cardigan. 

She chose to withhold some information like the blackmail from Lila or when Adrien walked in on her underwear. If Gabriel knew about those details she’s more worried about what her father is going to do to them than her.

‘He’s quiet again, what now?’ she wondered, her anxiety growing more and more each second he’s not saying anything.

He sighed, “Well it can’t be helped since you’re at a disorganized and rowdy event. Next time limit your attendance to those unless it's necessary”

“Y-yeah, of course” 

“Goodnight, Marinette”

“Goodnight, father” she mumbled as they parted ways towards their own rooms.

She flops into the bed feeling frustrated at… well, she doesn’t know exactly.

Maybe Lila, for ruining her night and her outfit or her father for not even asking if she was okay throughout the whole night’s ordeal. Either way, she’s frustrated as hell.

‘Deep breaths Mari, deep breaths’ she reminded herself and she calmed herself down after a few seconds. 

“Like Chloe said, I had fun tonight despite what happened” she told herself as she recalled the people she met that night, the live student band, the crazy games she got to witness, and her new friends.

She never would’ve guessed that Adrien would have the guts to carry her all the way outside though. Somehow that was the most memorable event of that night for her, she pondered as she fiddled with the cardigan of his. 

As she took it off she noticed something written on the tag, ‘Adrien’s favorite cardigan DO NOT TOUCH’

“He really is a dork,” she giggled.

Marinette (wearing Adrien’s cardigan) being carried by Adrien in Chapter 5

art by @deryuj​

↬ Chapter 7 (tba) ↬ AO3 Link

Its been almost a year since I last updated this but I hope you guys can forgive me QwQ... I’ll be updating this story more often though since college stuff is all done (and by done I meant holding it off til next year lmao)

But rest assured updates will be more frequent from now on, maybe every 3days or every week hehe

✦ Tag List : @conquering-medians​

[tsarisfanfiction]

Origin (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Warnings: None Characters: Law, Franky

With the absence of one Monkey D. Luffy, Law had hoped that he would be at last permitted some peace and quiet, especially as he was now on board his own ship and therefore the captain in charge (while 'alliance' meant the captains were on equal terms, it was difficult not to feel on the back foot on board the Thousand Sunny, especially as her captain didn't follow traditional alliance rules anyway). He still had four of the Straw Hats with him, but in the grand scheme of things he thought peace and quiet still wasn't too much to ask for; Zoro-ya and Nico-ya preferred keeping their mouths shut anyway, Nose-ya was still terrified of him and Robo-ya…

Well, Robo-ya was turning out to be the problem. Law chided himself for not realising that the shipwright, who had built both the Thousand Sunny and its personal submarine, would be incredibly interested in the Polar Tang, which was a far more superior specimen than the Shark Submerge (although Law would admit the quirky submarine was well built for its size and purpose). In the confined space, the cries of SUUUUUUPERRRR reverberated nauseatingly, and no amount of creativity employed by the Heart Pirates (Law included) to block their ears was even remotely successful. Irritatingly, the other Straw Hats seemed totally deaf to his cries.

A sacrifice was required, and as Law looked around at those of his crew in the area, he realised he would have to be the victim. As difficult as it was to believe, his time with the Straw Hats had mildly desensitised him to their antics and he only had to take one look at Penguin and Shachi, concerningly out of sorts even before the cyborg's cries had begun, to realise that there was no way his crew would survive close quarters with the shipwright for any length of time with their sanity intact.

Choosing not to ponder what that implied of his own sanity, he followed the noise to find not just Robo-ya, but also Nose-ya prodding at the security lock of the engine room. Unnerved that no alarms had been set off at the intruders' attempt, and also relieved that Nami-ya wasn't around to assist otherwise they would have definitely succeeded in gaining entry unsupervised, he strode up to them and placed a hand over the passcode input.

"Torao-bro!" Robo-ya greeted cheerfully, not at all abashed to have been found trying to force entry into the most delicate part of a ship that wasn't his. Behind him, Nose-ya at least had the decency to cower. "Just the man! Show us around, would ya, bro? This girl's a SUUUUUUUPERRRRR beauty, yeah!"

Law wanted to refuse. As the ship's captain, he had every right (and with the absence of Mugiwara-ya he technically held captaincy over the four guests although he knew full well that only Nico-ya had any inclination to obey him and even that was on her own terms). However, these were Straw Hat Pirates. He had never, either through personal experience or the newspaper, heard of a single occasion when the Straw Hats didn't get their way in the end. The fact that the security alarm on the door had already been bypassed without his knowledge, and that they'd had no qualms about even trying in the first place, made it clear that sooner or later they'd be back, and he didn't really want to unduly punish his own crew by adding an extra watch to the rota (especially as he could quickly narrow down who had a chance of stopping the Straw Hats one-on-one to barely a quarter of the crew, including himself – there were reasons the entire crew had their own bounties, after all).

Thus, with a sigh he gestured for the two of them, apparently now three, as Zoro-ya had materialised while he was considering his options and (while Law was certain the swordsman hadn't intended to find his way there) was standing with all the poise of a man who was exactly where he wanted to be, to follow him to the nearby locker room, where he located boiler suits for them all.

"I am not treating you for stupid injuries," he ground out when all three looked at the Heart-emblazoned outfits dubiously. "The Polar Tang's machinery is far more dangerous than the Sunny's." Having seen both, he felt qualified to make such a claim (the Sunny ran on cola, for goodness' sake! Then again, with a captain like Mugiwara-ya, a child-safe mechanism was probably wise).

Nose-ya was first to cave, and Zoro-ya followed suit after Law began to pull his own on – a nice yellow colour, to distinguish him from the rest of the crew at a glance. He wasn't even sure what persuaded the cyborg to eventually pull on one of Jean Bart's spares, but he'd learnt to never look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not when the Straw Hats were involved.

Hoping he was not going to regret his decision, Law keyed in the code, making sure to block the others' line of sight to the passcode as he did so, and the door slid open with a quiet hydraulic hiss, revealing the heart of the Polar Tang.

Clione, the crew member currently tending the engine, looked up in surprise before looking at Law questioningly. Law simply shrugged as Robo-ya carefully advanced into the room, eyeing the equipment with a look Law couldn't quite name. It was almost as if it was what he'd expected, although Law was under the impression there were little to no other submarines of the type in existence. It was possible Robo-ya had the required genius to work out what was most likely, though, so he tried not to dwell as Nose-ya started asking questions. Law was glad for Clione's presence, as he didn't know the answer to many of the more technical ones (the Straw Hats had no room to comment on that, though, as Law was confident Mugiwara-ya knew about as much about the workings of the Thousand Sunny as he did the Polar Tang, if not less. Mugiwara-ya likely would proclaim it all a 'mystery' or simply point out it was Robo-ya's job to know).

Eventually, Clione became the main spokesperson and Law perched himself down on a bench near the entrance (Zoro-ya was sat on the same bench but closer to the door, and seemed unnervingly like a jailer; Law put the thought that he was being intentionally trapped far out of his mind, paranoia would do him no good). It was hot in the room, almost unbearably so to Law, who had never managed to shake his North Blue roots of preferring the cold, even if he hated winter, but Robo-ya and Nose-ya seemed a long way from running out of questions, so he endured in silence, watching the two like a hawk. Allies or not, unconventional allies or not, he refused to let them near the delicate part of his ship without strict supervision.

It was probably an hour before their curiosity was sated, just in time for Ikkaku's shift to begin – she gave him a quizzical look as she entered to relieve Clione, which Law responded to with a pointed glance at their guests – and he managed to shepherd the three out of the room and into slightly cooler air.

It took no time at all for Zoro-ya and Nose-ya to strip out of their borrowed boiler suits and disperse back towards the living area of the Tang (Nose-ya kept tugging at Zoro-ya's sleeve when he tried to take a wrong turning), but Law waited for Robo-ya to finish as well before daring to leave. Robo-ya appeared to be being intentionally slow, and Law wasn't sure what to make of it as he folded his own boiler suit and put it away neatly.

"Torao-bro," Robo-ya began, uncharacteristically serious as he finally freed his legs from the suit. Law turned to give him his full attention. "Where did you get this girl?"

It was a loaded question, and Law wasn't sure he wanted to know why Robo-ya was asking. The cyborg had somehow positioned himself between Law and the door to the room, though, and while Law could teleport himself out with a Room, he didn't like the unusual behaviour. He was getting enough of it from his crew as it was, he didn't need the predictably-unpredictable Straw Hats adding to the headache.

"What does it matter?" he hedged. There was a click, and a compartment opened up in Robo-ya's arm. Rummaging around, the cyborg withdrew a wad of paper.

"Those two years," he began, and suddenly Law knew it was serious because the Straw Hats never talked about the years they'd vanished from the limelight, "I was on Karakuri Island – Vegapunk's home island. He'd left a lot of blueprints behind, and I thought they were all incomplete projects, so I took some with me when I left." He offered the paper – blueprints, Law realised – to him. "Seems like this isn't incomplete after all." Law took them and glanced down, only to freeze.

In his hands were the unmistakable blueprints of the Polar Tang.

[politics-notmything]

If it’s true what they say

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Tw- Anne says fuck twice

For some reason, after around five years of this, Anne has not yet learned her lesson. Once again, she had woken up and instantly shot out of bed upon reading the face of the clock, which indicated it was ten minutes until the end of breakfast. Although, while she still hasn’t figured out how to wake up early, she has mastered the art of getting ready in a flash. After rolling out of bed, she had to quickly locate wherever the fuck her uniform was (usually on the floor) and throw it on. Oftentimes, she didn’t even bother to change out of her pyjamas and was just able to cover them with her long, black robes. Today was one of those days. It’s not like anyone would notice, anyway. She could always go back up to her dorm room later, during a free period or lunch, to properly change. Next came rapidly brushing her teeth and hair all while tugging on her socks, then shoes. Once that was done, she could run (more like fall) up the steps of the Slytherin common room and dash into the Great Hall. And that’s the step she was at now.

             Out of breath and panting heavily, ANNE reached the Great Hall with five minutes to spare. She quickly located Kitty sitting at their usual spot at the Hufflepuff table, and she flopped down next to her friend. Anne grabbed some toast and eggs, making a quick breakfast sandwich, and took a bite out of it. As she chewed, she took the two hair ties from around her wrist and quickly pulled her hair into her typical messy spacebuns.

Next to her, Katherine was finishing off the last of her orange juice while listening to another Jane Seymour describe the wild dream she had last night. Anne was only able to catch a few words of the story. Something about Henry VII and his SIX wives? It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but Kitty seemed to be dying from laughter, so she supposed it’d be funnier if she’d actually heard the whole story. Speaking of, that reminded her, she still had to force Kat to watch High School Musical with her. For some reason, Katherine has not yet watched the iconic movie trilogy featuring the one and only Zac Efron and Anne made a quick mental note to make Kitty watch it with her once they were home for the holidays.

Once Jane had finished their tale, Kat turned towards Anne, tears of laughter still in her eyes.

“G’morning, Annie,” she chuckled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You missed the owls again. Your dad sent you a letter.” From her robes, she pulled a white envelope with “ANNE BOLEYN” written on the front in her dad’s messy scrawl. Ever since her first year, her father has sent her a letter each week, checking up on her and it almost always ended with him screaming at her. More often than not, Kat technically got the letter and then proceeded to pass it along to her.

Anne took the letter from Kat and opened it, accidentally ripping the envelope as always. Her eyes quickly scanned over the parchment paper as Kitty peered over her shoulder. Most of the letter contained the typical stuff, although her dad also asked how the Quidditch match had gone. Upon reading that, Anne let out an audible groan and jammed it back into the envelope, then into the pocket of her robes. Great. On the bright side, he was usually pretty forgiving about Anne’s antics as long as it wasn’t extremely out of line.

As the clock struck eight a.m., students began filing out of the Great Hall and heading towards their first classes. Hurriedly, Anne scooped the remnants of her sandwich in a napkin and ran to catch up with Kat who had already started walking away from the table.

================================

Twirling a stick between her gloved hands, Anne watched the flower before her intently, only half-listening to whatever Sprout was lecturing them about. She’d only caught the introduction to the class’s activity, caring for Fanged Geraniums or something like that, before she became more interested in the magical flower and zoned out. Currently, her assigned plant was attempting to snap at the stick with its rows of sharp teeth.

“Fuck,” she quietly cursed. Katherine had just elbowed her, drawing her attention fro just a moment away from the Geranium. It seized the opportunity and used the distraction as a chance to finally nip at her fingers. Thankfully, Anne was able to swiftly draw her hand back in time before she lost any vital body parts and glared at her friend. “What the hell?”

The younger girl said nothing and just tilted her head towards Sprout who was now pacing around the greenhouse as she talked, getting increasingly closer to the pair. Immediately, Anne dropped the stick, which the Fanged Geranium gladly gobbled up, and tried her best to look as if she’d been listening the whole time.

Professor Sprout looked at her with raised eyebrows but didn’t make a move to call her out about it. “Alright now, get to work, class.”

As soon as she said that, Anne turned to Kitty. “Okay, so, what the fuck are we supposed to do?”

“Annie, why do you never pay attention?” Kat asked, already starting to tend to her plant. It was clear from her tone that it was meant to be a rhetorical question. “You know this is going to be on the O.W.L.s, right?”

“I dunno,” Anne responded, watching Kat’s actions and attempting to replicate them with her own Geranium. Somehow, she must’ve gotten it right because the plant stopped snapping at her hands whenever they got close to it. “I just can’t, y'know?”

“Sure, Anne,” Kitty said, sarcastically, and looked up from what she was doing, turning her attention to the Slytherin. Her gaze shifted downward, to the now passive plant in front of Anne. “What the heck, how? You weren’t even listening.”

The Boleyn girl stared back at her friend with a somewhat smug expression on her face and looked back down at the Fanged Geranium, grinning.

===========================

Yawning, Boleyn drummed her fingers against the round Divination table as she did her best to follow Professor Trelawney’s ramblings. Quite frankly, though, she couldn’t care less about whatever the fuck her dreams meant. Half the time, she can’t even remember what happens in them. But, older students said Divination would be an easy class so here she was. They were mostly right. All the homework was just taking some shit she saw and then making it more dramatic. Thinking about candles? Write about how Hogwarts burned down in your dream journal. Simple.

Really, the hardest part about the subject was having to endure over an hour of Trelawney’s lessons every other day. She would always talk about weird, “prophetic” shit like reading tea leaves or seeing visions. Anne didn’t understand any of that crap, and quite frankly didn’t care, either. There were two kinds of people when it came to Trelawney. Most didn’t believe any of the bullshit she spewed, but there were a handful of students that hung on each and every word no matter how ridiculous.

Anne looked at Kat for a moment before grabbing a piece of parchment out of her bag and scribbling a note, then sliding it across the table to the Hufflepuff.

Would u rather-

Sit through 100 hours of Binns or 100 hours of this bullshit w T?

Kitty glanced at Anne with a slight smile tugging at her lips, then began to write a response. Depends on the day. Sometimes Trelawney lets us drink tea.

Anne grinned, shaking her head. Of course, Kitty could find the good in Trelawney’s dumb classes.

At least the ghost dude actually teaches us shit though.

Kat rolled her eyes slightly and leaned down to respond, but they both heard an annoyed huff come from behind them. It was Catherine Parr. Anne turned around and gave her a look that clearly said, “What the hell are you looking at, smartass?”

Cathy turned to her best friend who was sitting beside her, to borrow a quill and quickly wrote something neatly on a scrap of parchment, then proceeded to hand it to Anne with a condescending look.

Stop passing notes, it's really distracting.

Anne glared quickly before scribbling a response.

Hypocrite.

She dropped the paper in front of Cathy, then, without a second glance, turned back to Kat, who was finishing up the last word of her note.

But Trelawney knows stuff about divination, remember that one time she predicted that you would fall in love with a girl who’s name started with an ‘M’, then a few weeks later you started majorly crushing on this girl named Maggie?

Anne smiled slightly, the glitterball was, of course, right. She tended to be right at that sort of thing. Every now and then, Trelawney had a moment of clarity in which her predictions turned out to be correct. They never quite ended up the way you’d expect them to though. Instead of responding to Kitty’s last comment, Anne wrote, 

Catherine is pissing me off. She just gave me the fucking stink eye.

Kitty frowned, shaking her head. 

Which one?

Anne nodded in understanding as Catherine of Aragon and Catherine Parr both sat behind them.

The smart one... who’s also kinda hot.

She scribbled out the last part.

Anne was about to continue on, but a particular voice piped up from behind them. “Excuse me, Professor? Anne and Katherine Howard have been passing notes for the past fifteen minutes and it’s been very distracting to me and others sitting near them.”

Parr. Of fucking course, it was Cathy who would call them out. Anne felt a flash of anger and annoyance but held her tongue. After the whole “losing the first Quidditch match of the year” ordeal, Anne had been careful to avoid getting in too much trouble, and she knew that if she responded to the Ravenclaw, it would only get increasingly worse for her.

Professor Trelawney turned her head to face Boleyn, with a look of distaste on her face. Anne wasn’t very well-liked by many of the professors, except maybe Madame Hooch. She was particularly good at flying and Kitty’s talent with Charms meant that when they were learning Incendio, she was among one of the first to conjure up a stream of fire. 

“Ooooooh,” a handful of the other students called out.

Another one, in particular (it sounded like Anna of Cleves) shouted “Exposed!” Anne flushed red with embarrassment.

“Ah, oh. Um, five points from the both of you,” It was clear that Trelawney wasn’t going to make it a big deal; it wasn’t often that she doled out punishments to students. But, it was more than enough to fuel the anger inside of the gremlin.

Anne spun around to give Cathy a death glare, to which Cath returned with a fake smile and a shrug of her shoulders. She then rotated in her seat towards Kat, who had pointedly turned to face Trelawney, clearly not wanting to lose any more points. Rolling her eyes, Anne followed Kitty’s lead and tried to listen to whatever the hell the nutso professor was going on about.

[saveyourblood]

Stolen Dance | Part 8

Summary: “Maybe this was a pipe dream, a delusion you’d soon awake from or a phase you’d outgrow. You didn’t really care. For a brief moment in time, you were in love. That’s what you chose to care about. That what you made matter.”

The one where you’re a paramedic, he’s an FBI agent, and the time you spend together is borrowed.

Word Count: 4.8k

Song: Moving On - Kodaline

Warnings: a few parts of this chapter (mostly, a single scene) are pretty disturbing. It's nothing worse than what is mentioned in Criminal Minds, but it's graphic. If it gets to be too much for you, skip to this: *** (the scene will also start with this symbol if you want to skip it altogether). Take care of yourself <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

_____________________

Syria, 2014

“Are all girls from Colorado this rough, or is it just you?”

“Shut up, Austin.”

Austin laughed.

It was weird — soldiers buzzed around you like bees in a hive, but whenever you and Austin got the chance to talk, it was like you and him were the only people in the room. You just wished you could talk to him under better circumstances.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Austin continued. “The last guy you treated walked out of here looking like Frankenstein.”

“Without me, he would’ve been rolled out,” you retorted. You pulled at the sutures tightly, causing him to wince.

“Alright, alright,” he ceded with a chuckle, “I get it. But if you mess up my face, my mama will come after you.”

“I would never mess up a handsome face like yours,” you said sweetly as you worked at the cut on his cheekbone. “Why would I ruin a man’s only asset?”

“You wound me, Y/N,” Austin said, setting a hand over his heart. “You wound me to my core.” 

You snorted, laying a bandage over the sutures. You patted his shoulder. “You’re good to go, soldier.” 

Austin stood up from the gurney, grabbing his button-down digital camo shirt. He draped it over his arm, which you swore was the width of your head. As if that wasn’t enough, he towered over you: he was at least 6’4, and built like a tank. You once said he was the Army’s wet dream. You got a good laugh out of that remark.

Austin bowed slightly and tipped an imaginary hat. “Thank you, m’lady,” he said, accentuating his preexisting southern drawl. 

You shoved his shoulder with a smile. “Get out of here, Crow.”

He smiled, his white teeth contrasting his dark hair. “See you around, Y/L/N.”

“Hopefully not too soon,” you replied. 

“What, you don’t want to look at this pretty face?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Not really, no,” you laughed. You cleared your throat. “Seriously, Austin: Don’t be a hero.” 

He nodded, respecting your change of tone. “Yes ma’am,” he agreed, before walking out of the triage tent and right back into danger.

You sighed, picking up and putting away your equipment.

Some days, you wished more than anything else that the two of you met under different circumstances. You wished he moved to Colorado with his family when he was a teenager, or that the two of you met in a small cafe in a big city. Hell, you’d even be okay if you met during Basic Training, the two of you fell in love, and he worked on a local reserve while you persued a different career. Really, you just wished you hadn’t met while serving in Syria, because no matter how you spinned it, it just wasn’t appropriate. 

Austin was a Staff Sergeant, which technically meant he ranked higher than you. However, the two of you worked in different areas; Austin was a combat soldier, while you were a medic. He fought on the frontline, you mostly worked triage. You took care of men like him. So, even though the Army may not forbid an affair between the two of you, that didn’t mean you thought it was okay. It felt like… corruption, like you were breaking the trust between you and your brothers. You didn’t want anyone for a single second to feel like they were less important to you.

So, you pushed your feelings aside. You savored the moments you spent with Austin, but you didn’t push it. You didn’t seek him out, you didn’t play favorites. You enjoyed the time you spent with him, but said time was brief, as it should be. 

You sighed again. He was a charming Texas boy with a heart of gold. How could a person not fall in love with him? 

“The longer this goes on, the worse it gets.”

You and Austin watched a new batch of soldiers go through training. They were already deemed fit for combat, so the next few weeks would be spent teaching them the ins-and-outs of living and serving in an active warzone. Today’s lesson? IEDs. 

“I know,” you agreed, voices low as to not distract. “It started as peaceful protests against a President, and now more than half a million people are dead.”

“70 airstrikes later,” Austin said with a sigh. “Sometimes… nevermind.”

“What?” you asked. When he didn’t respond, you nudged his shoulder. “Sing your annoying song, Crow.”

He smirked, but didn’t quite laugh; the sound he made was that of a scoff. “Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m even doing here.” 

“Me too,” you said softly. 

_____________________

The two of you found some downtime; Austin wouldn’t be heading out with his team until later in the afternoon, and after a busy morning, your tent was hitting a lull. The two of you decided to eat lunch together in an empty triage tent lined with gurneys. 

You sat on the ground beside each other, boots sunken into the mix of dirt and sand that made up the ground. Austin sat cross legged, and his knee brushed against your calf as you bounced your foot up and down.

“You gonna use that cheese?” He asked, referring to a silver packet you set on the ground.

“No,” you said, dumping your chicken fajita mix into your cooked rice packet. “Shit’s disgusting.”

Austin picked up the packet and tore it open with his teeth. He spread the fake, overly yellow ‘cheese’ spread onto a weird, fake pork sandwich he was making. The bread looked more like play-doh than bread, and the barbecue sauce he used was almost black. MREs: the epitome of luxury dining.

“That is nasty,” you remarked.

“Sometimes, you gotta take what you can get,” Austin said. He picked up a packet of clam chowder that had been heating up in its bag for awhile. He opened it and stirred it around before taking a spoonful and plopping it right on over the cheese spread. He finally closed the sandwich and took a massive bite.

“I’m gonna gag,” you stated bluntly. 

He frowned. “Why?” he asked through a mouthful of food.

“That is vile, Austin,” you said. “You just put clam chowder on a sandwich! With barbecue sauce and cheese! That’s so gross!”

He offered you the sandwich. “Wanna bite?” 

You tucked your chin against your chest and leaned back, shaking your head. “Get that away from me.” 

_____________________

To say the night was busy would be more than an understatement; 4 men from the same troop were rushed to triage, all with similar injuries caused by IEDs. One of the men ultimately ended up a double amputee, one leg blown off above the kneecap and the other being so damaged that most of the calf had to be removed. Somehow, a man from the same troop ended up with only minor lacerations. War was strange that way; you step on an IED the ‘right’ way, and it’s something you can walk away from. If you don’t, you could die.

“Alright everyone, we have 6 more soldiers coming in!” Your Lieutenant Colonel shouted. “All non-emergent patients should be transferred. Let’s hope for the best, prepare for the worst.”

You helped ‘reset’ a few stations, making sure they were clean and ready. When the men still hadn’t arrived, you approached Colonel Todd.

“Colonel,” you asked, catching her attention. “What else do you know?”

“Best guess? Task Force 221,” she replied, signing a few papers when someone handed her a clipboard. “Crow and his boys were out patrolling, Folks don’t take too kindly to soldiers around here.”

Your heart sank.

The men from Task Force 221 came in at the same time, and they were loaded out of the truck and onto gurneys one by one. You got assigned to the first person, which happened to be Austin himself.

“Go, help them,” Austin protested, already trying to get off the gurney. “I’m okay, just help my boys!”

You pushed him down by his chest as you and two other people rolled him inside. 

“Can I get a dose of Lidocaine, please?” you instructed, cutting away Austin’s already torn pants. So far, you saw two GSWs: one to the left lower leg, and one to the right calf. You adjusted the light above you to get a better look. “Make it two doses.” 

“I’m fine,” Austin pushed, once again trying to stand up.

“Austin Crow, I swear to god, I will tie you down if I have to,” you threatened. “You’re not fine — you’ve been shot. Sometimes, to take care of your team, you have to take care of yourself first.”

He laid back with a sigh.

Three hours passed before you could properly speak to Austin. After pulling the bullets from both his legs, you ran around trying to help people wherever and however you could. Eventually, you found the sweet spot where no one was critical but everyone was still busy. You managed to slip away and pull the curtains around Austin’s bed.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” you hissed under your breath.

“...What?”

“I heard what you did,” you said. “Your lieutenants were more than happy to tell me exactly how you got shot.” 

“By doing my job?” Austin asked. 

“You put yourself in the line of fire!” you argued. “You ran right into danger!”

“To help someone,” he explained calmly. “No man gets left behind, Y/N. You know that.” 

“You could have died!” you said between clenched teeth. You were trying to keep your voice down, but his apathy was driving you crazy. “God, what is it with you? The same day I take out your stitches, you come in with two gunshot wounds. What’s next, Austin? You want me to plan your funeral? Write to your parents, tell them how you died a hero?” 

“Why are you so pissed at me?” Austin asked. He seemed more confused than angry.

The words fell out before you could stop them. “Because I love you!” 

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. You laughed bitterly. 

“There,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Cat’s out of the bag.” You sighed, setting your hand down and looking him in the eye. “I think… I’m in  love with you, and I don’t want to see you dead.”

Silence fell. Austin looked away, looked back to you, looked away again, and clenched his jaw. You crossed your arms in self-defense, heart pounding as you waited for him to say something, anything.

Austin scooted over, then patted the space beside him. “Come here.”

You approached the bed, slowly and carefully sliding next to him. It was almost too small for Austin by himself, let alone with another person, so your weight ended up mostly on him. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

Austin’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his body. He buried his face in your hair, taking a long breath. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll do better. I promise.” 

_____________________

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

You were only covering for someone, a temporary replacement until a new combat medic was hired. Austin was hesitant; he wasn’t sure if you were cut out for the job. You assured him you’d be fine, that you went through the same training everyone else did, and that it wasn’t permanent.

You were an amazing combat medic. You tied every tourniquet tight, you took care of men until they could be shipped off the triage. The Colonel in charge of Task Force 221 commended you, said you could be a real fit for the field. 

Austin didn’t agree. The two of you had been secretly dating for about a month, and it was the first real fight the you got into. You said you were seriously considering accepting a job as a combat medic, and Austin disagreed. You could tell this fight wouldn’t be like the last one — you weren’t about to kiss him and tell him everything would be alright.

“What, only you get to do the dirty work?” you asked. “Only you get make some real change?”

“This isn’t about glory, Y/N,” Austin sighed, running a hand through his cropped hair. “It’s about keeping you alive.”

“Now you know how I feel!” you argued, laughing at the irony. “It’s scary, isn’t it, Austin?! You want more than anything to pull me off of the battlefield, put me somewhere in this godforsaken country were I can be at least somewhat safe?!”

He clenched his jaw and looked away.

“I’m gonna take that job,” you stated, “and I’m only quitting when you do.” 

Now, you were here, in a place you didn’t know, but you knew you didn’t like.

“Y/N?” you heard someone call weakly.

“Austin?!” you said, trying your hardest not to burst into tears. You couldn’t see anything, so hearing his voice was a massive relief. 

Your memory came back in pieces: you saw Austin walk ahead to secure the area, but he ended up stepping on and IED. Without even thinking, you ran ahead, despite the yells and other protests of the men beside you. 

“Hey, baby,” you said gently, looking him up and down.  It took everything in you not to gag or faint.

He stepped right on the edge of the IED, meaning his left leg was blown off to right below the kneecap.  The exposed muscle was shredded, and his bone stuck out like a morbid fence post.

“You’re gonna be fine,” you promised, taking out your tourniquet. Just like you had been instructed what felt like decades ago, you pulled it as tight as you physically could to stop any more blood loss. 

Austin moaned in pain and mumbled a few words you couldn’t understand. When you looked up to call for help, the butt of a gun connected with the back of your head, effectively knocking you out. 

You woke up here.

“It was a trap,” Austin said, voice rough and quiet. 

“We’re gonna get out of here, okay?” you promised. “Half of the fucking Army is probably looking for us right now.”

After what felt like hours, someone came in to remove your blindfold. You could finally get a good look at Austin, and it made your heart pound in your ears. He didn’t look good. Things would get ugly if he didn’t get proper medical attention soon. 

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you,” you said immediately. “Just let me help him.”

A man dressed in all black began to yell at you in Arabic. You could only make out a few words — work, plan, and money. He paused, most likely to give you time to answer. When you didn’t, he punched you across the face.

“No,” Austin said weakly. “Stop it.”

You spat some blood onto the floor, your entire head throbbing. “Don’t worry,” you said, then looked to your attack. “I can take it.” 

_____________________

Present Day

“They didn’t get anything out of me by punching,” you said, staring at the light above your bed. You sounded detached, like you were talking about a movie you watched rather than recalling the worst day of your life. You supposed that’s how you coped with it — you pretended it wasn’t real, that it never really happened. “Even when they brought in someone who spoke English, I didn’t talk.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You adjusted the bed to a sitting position awhile ago, but you still felt vulnerable.

“You can stop,” Spencer offered, gently taking your hand. It was taped up and gloved, as it was the hand they put an IV in, so his touch was more delicate than usual. 

You shook your head. “I want to tell you everything,” you promised. “It’s just hard to think about. It’s hard to remember.” You took in a breath. “When the punching didn’t work, they moved on to whipping. And when that didn’t work…”

_____________________

***

Syria, 2014

Your back stung and your head throbbed. You hoped that eventually, you’d pass out, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Either your pain tolerance was too high, or the breaks they took between the methods of torturing were enough to keep you conscious.

“Get her on the ground,” one man growled. 

You groggily put together that there were three men in the room, all of them equally pissed. They probably thought you’d be easy to crack. 

The fresh wounds on your back hurt even more when they connected with the dirt; you could practically feel the infection in your skin forming. You gritted your teeth, barely able to refrain from making noise. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, someone began to pull down your pants. In that very moment, you prayed for a heart attack, for your body to give out completely. This, on top of everything else? You wouldn’t be able to take it.

“That’s enough!” Austin shouted, so loud that it practically shook the walls. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. Just get the hell away from her.” 

Austin gave up the location of the base, as well as other details they wanted, like what patrols and other missions had been scheduled. Apparently, all they wanted was to get the upper hand, strike before Austin or anyone else’s task force could. It made you wonder what they did when information was time-sensitive.

They slammed the heavy door behind them, and immediately, you burst into tears. You rolled onto your side and curled into a ball, shirt in shreds from the whipping. You stayed in that position for so long that your arm and legs fell asleep, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to feel nothing right about now.

“Y/N,” Austin called, for what was probably the millionth time. You tuned out everything around you, only the sound of static filling your ears.

You sat up lifelessly, a blank stare on your face.

“Come here,” he said.

You crawled over to Austin, your concern for him trumping both the physical and mental pain you were in. It had only been a few hours at most, but he already looked worse. His face was pale, lips dry, and despite the tourniquet, he seemed to have lost quite a bit of blood. 

“What do you need?” you asked. 

“Can you take off my shirt?” He asked.

It was a weird request, but you obliged. You lifted up the hem of his shirt, and carefully, you pulled it above his head. You managed to get it off without having to lift his arms too high.

“Put it on,” Austin instructed.

You smiled through a few new tears. 

It was damp with sweat, meaning it was entirely sanitary, but more than anything, you appreciated the sentiment. You slid it over your head, slipping your arms through each hole. Unsurprisingly, it was massive on you — the sleeves were technically short, but they almost hit your elbow. 

“Sit by me,” he said, tilting his head to the empty space beside him. 

You did as you were told, careful not to lean back and inflict more pain.

“Closer.”

You laughed, wiping your nose as tears streamed down your face. You scooted closer to him, lifting one of his arms and slinging it around your shoulders. You curled into his chest, and despite the sweltering heat, you found comfort in his warmth. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Austin asked, voice raspy.

You looked up. “Yeah?”

“I’m in love with you too.”

It didn’t occur to you, but ‘love’ hadn’t come out of either of your mouths since the night you first admitted it. You spent countless hours in each other’s presence, but it hadn’t come up. You didn’t Austin to say a word in order to prove how much he cared about you — he showed it. It was implied.

And now, it was over.

_____________________

***

Present Day

“It took them 18 hours to find us,” you said. A few tears made their way down your cheek. You wiped them and continued on. “I think Austin died halfway through it.” 

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; you thought Spencer was afraid to even breathe. 

“I stayed by his body until someone found us,” you said. “I managed to fall asleep a few times, and every time I woke up, mice were eating his skin. As if his leg being blown off wasn’t bad enough.” you paused. “I think his blood started to spoil. Is that possible? I don’t know. I think the heat was cooking him, though. It didn’t take long for his skin to start rotting.”

Your face contorted, and you stifled a sob. “I wanted to save him, Spencer,” you cried, clutching his hand. “I really did. They just wouldn’t let me.” 

Almost immediately, Spencer joined you on the bed. He pulled you against him, arms tight around you like a barricade. You gripped his shoulders as you cried into his chest.

“None of this is your fault, you hear me?” Spencer said. “None of it is your fault.” 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that. Eventually, you stopped sobbing, but the occasional tear still rolled down your cheek. Spencer held you throughout it all.

Eventually, you felt Spencer lift his head from the pillow. You looked up to see the team standing at the nurses’ station. Any other day, you would have pushed him aside and invited them in. Today, though, you just sniffed and moved closer to him. 

Spencer kissed your hair and continued to hold you close. They’d get the memo.

_____________________

The hospital kept you overnight for observation, but by daylight, you were discharged with a clean bill of health. Sometime during the night, Emily and JJ swung by to drop you off a change of clothes, which you were eternally grateful for. 

Spencer didn’t leave your side the entire night. He waited outside the bathroom when you changed, he held your hand as you took the elevator ride down to the lobby, and he sat in the middle of the backseat on the cab ride home. You stared out the window the entire time, but you kept a hand on his knee. 

As you stared at the multi-colored, almost bare trees, you realized something: life goes on. People were waking up and heading to their 9-5, and their biggest concern was what to make for dinner later that day. Some of them had a violent or traumatic past, just like you did, but that wasn’t how they lived their life. You and everyone else alive did the same thing: you woke up, and you tried your best. Sometimes, that’s all anyone can do. And that’s enough. 

“The rest of the team is going over to Rossi’s tonight; he’s making spaghetti,” Spencer said as the two of you entered the apartment. “We can go, if you want. Or we can stay here all day. We shouldn’t have a case until tomorrow. Even so, I’m sure Hotch would understand if you took some time off.”

“Spencer?” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m okay,” you promised. “Everything I told you is something I’ve been reliving for the past 2 years. Talking about it didn’t dredge anything up. Actually, if anything, it helped. It’s like… I don’t know, a weight was lifted off of me. I feel like I can start to move on, finally.” 

He smiled faintly. “Good,” he nodded, “I’m glad.” 

You set your arms on his shoulders. “I’d love to go to Rossi’s for dinner,” you said. “But first, I need your help with something.” 

“Anything.” 

You played with your hands. “Ever since I got back, I’ve been thinking of visiting Austin’s family. It took me 6 months to go back to work after what happened — I can’t imagine what it was like for them to lose a child. I thought they needed some time before I brought everything back up. I think I’m ready now. At least, I’m ready if they are.”

“And that’s what you need my help with,” Spencer concluded.

You nodded. “I don’t know how to get in contact with them. Honestly, I was just gonna start by googling them.” 

“Over 45 million members of Generation X use Facebook,” Spencer said. “I think we should start there.” 

_____________________

“I swear, I am never letting you go,” Garcia said as she hugged you. For someone who was normally so soft, in that moment, she could crush all of your bones. 

“Come on, baby girl,” Derek chuckled, “we all get a turn. And Y/N needs to breathe.”

With a pout, Garcia let go of you. JJ, who was standing next to her, extended her arms. You pulled her into a short but sweet hug. Spencer wasn’t joking: this team was a family. 

“We didn’t get to see you in the hospital!” Emily exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around you. 

“I wasn’t there for long,” you said, pulling away. “Besides, I wasn’t really in the mood for visitors. No offense.” 

“None taken.” 

Derek hugged you next. His massive arms wrapped around you, and as you briefly relaxed into his chest, his chin rested on top of your head. A small, warm smile crossed your face. He was like the older brother you never had. 

“Hey, can I talk to you?” He asked as the two of you parted. 

Though surprised, you nodded. “Yeah, of course. You wanna step outside for a sec?” 

Derek nodded. 

“Don’t be too long!” Rossi called from the kitchen. “The show’s about to begin!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you promised. 

As you followed Derek onto the porch, you noticed Spencer talking to Hotch. You gave him a small wave, which he returned with a look of confusion. You raised your index finger, a silent way of telling him you’d be just a second.

“What’s up, Derek?” you asked, closing the door behind you.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “And I mean really okay, not the ‘okay’ that gets you out of a conversation.” 

You took a few steps, resting your arms on the porch railing. “I think I am,” you said, looking over your shoulder. “Why do you ask?”

Derek moved to stand beside you. He pressed his palms to the smooth wood. “Maybe you didn’t see us at the hospital, but we saw you,” he said. “I’ve never seen someone who was so sad to be alive.” 

“It wasn’t that,” you promised. “I mean, it was for awhile, but not anymore.”

“What’s going on?” Derek pressed, bumping you shoulder with his. “Something’s eating at you. I can tell.” 

“I lost a friend,” you said simply, “when I was in Syria. I watched him die.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, setting a hand over yours. “That’s awful.”

“It was,” you agreed, “and ever since I got back, I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m alive and he isn’t. He had a set of happily married parents and two beautiful sisters to come home to. I’m an only child, and my father was six feet under. He had so many people that cared about him — the only person who would have really missed me was my mom. It didn’t seem fair, ya know?”

He nodded. “I know. Believe me, I know.” 

Derek shifted his footing. You nudged his shoulder.

“Something’s eating at you: I can tell,” you joked.

He chuckled softly. “Fair enough.” He paused. “I watched my dad die. One day, he picked me up early from school. I asked him if we could go to the convenience store. When we got inside, there was a woman being robbed.  My dad was a cop, so he stepped in,  hoping he could diffuse the situation. The robber shot him.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “How old were you?”

“10,” Derek answered. “It took me a long time to move on; I was lost without my father. I thought if  I had toughed it out until the bell rang, maybe my dad would still be alive. The older I got, though, the more I realized that it didn’t matter. What matters is what I do about it. So, I shaped up. I started solving problems instead of creating them. Maybe I’m biased, but I like to think I did an okay job.”

“You did an amazing job,” you said with a smile. “You’re a good man, Derek Morgan. Your father would be proud of you.”

“So would yours,” Derek returned. He slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to kiss the top of your head. 

_____________________

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[thewritenerd]

Victor and Adam: NaNoWriMo Day 25

Victor

After updating Igor and Justine on the situation Victor made his way up to Adam’s room. Emptying out his school bag onto his bed he looked around for things he might need. The doctor said they would want to keep him in for a couple of days just to keep an eye on things. He’d need things to do. Books, that seemed a good place to start. Making his way over to the bookshelf he picked out a couple of things and put them in the bag. What else? His phone, but where was the charger? He eventually found it in the drawer of Adam’s bedside cabinet. Thinking what else to put in Victor spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Something light blue poking out from under the bedsheets. Reaching for it Victor grabbed hold of the material and pulled it out. It was a shirt, or what was left of one. One sleeve had been torn of and most of the buttons were missing. There were also several rips and tears. ‘What the? He thought. Then he remembered. That night he’d brought Adam to life as the boy had ran away he’d taken one of his shirts. And he kept it? Victor thought. Not just kept it, it seemed he was using it like some sort of comforter. Without a second thought he shoved the shirt into the bag and continued packing. He put in Adam’s notebook and a couple of pens, a puzzle toy which he could technically be done one handed, his headphones and his pills. Victor also decided to he’d let Adam borrow his tablet for a couple of days, as long as he was careful with it. He didn’t use it that often anyway. Making his way back down he saw Igor dusting the banister. ‘Ah Igor I didn’t want to say anything in front of Justine but I need to talk to you about this intruder of ours.’ Igor nodded.

‘Yes I’ve been thinking about that. Do you think they know about the tunnel?’ ‘They certainly know about the trapdoor.’ Victor said looking thoughtful. ‘Though there’s no way they can open it from the outside. Not unless they’re really strong. And if they were I don’t doubt they would have opened it by now.’ In fact the trapdoor could only really opened by a hidden mechanism that was operated by a remote Victor kept on him at all times. There was another way to the tunnels but the intruder would have to break in to the castle to find it. ‘Igor I want you to update security in here. I don’t care too much about this person skulking around outside. They’re not going to get anywhere anyway. But I can’t risk them breaking in.’ Igor nodded. ‘Good idea sir. I won’t be able to do anything today as you have the car. But tomorrow I can go into town and buy some security cameras.’ ‘Good. Now I’d better get going. I promised Adam I’d be back before he woke up.’ ***

When he first got back to the hospital Victor was informed Adam would be in surgery for a little longer. Sitting down he prepared himself for a long wait. Time crawled by but Victor stayed put in the waiting room, only leaving to grab something to eat from the hospital café. At one point a guy sat next to him. ‘Been here long?’ he asked. ‘Since six. More or less.’ Victor replied. ‘Ouch. So who you waiting on?’ Victor thought for a moment wondering how to answer. ‘My son.’ He replied. ‘Broken arm.’ ‘Must be a bad break if you’re here. Still kids are tough.’ He gave Victor a reassuring smile which he didn’t quite return. The man didn’t seem to upset though. ‘Can’t blame you for worrying though.’ Victor looked down at his hands. Truth was he was less worried about Adam’s physical wounds and more worried about him psychologically. His injury was very similar to William’s and though it didn’t seem he’d made the connection that very easily could have been down to shock. ‘So how old’s your son?’ ‘What? Oh he’s sixteen.’ ‘Any others?’ ‘No. It’s just him.’ ‘Got two myself. Ten and fourteen. Wanted to come with me to see their grandma but I said they couldn’t go skipping school.’ School? ‘Shit.’ Victor hissed. The man frowned at him. ‘Sorry. I forgot to call the school. Um excuse me.’ He stood up and headed outside. Once he was done explaining what had happened to the school receptionist, who seemed very understanding about the delay, he headed back in doors. ‘Ah Mr Frankenstein.’ The doctor who’d been treating Adam said as he approached him. ‘Your son’s out of surgery now. It all went well. He’ll probably be out until later this afternoon but you can see him now if you want.’ Victor simply nodded and after learning the room Adam had been moved to he headed there. He stopped in the doorway. Adam was in a bed much too short for him so they’d had to lay him on the bed sort of half sitting up. His head had fallen to one side so he was facing the door. In the bright hospital light Victor noticed the skin of his jaw didn’t quite match the skin on the rest of his head. Though the difference was subtle. Taking a deep breath Victor made his way over and sat down in the chair next to the bed. Almost without thinking he reached out and pushed a strand of Adam’s dark hair out of his eye. Adam didn’t stir, of course not he was drugged not just sleeping. As he watched him Victor couldn’t help but to think how much like a child he looked. Though Victor had set out to create a teenager and had used as many parts from people of the right age range, though that hadn’t been easy, but it was hard to see someone who towered over everyone as being so young. But now looking at him there was no doubt this was just a kid Victor was looking at. A kid you pushed away, he scolded himself. Because you couldn’t take responsibility. You were the only one to have had any say in his existence, yet you were the first to turn your back on him. ‘Great.’ He muttered. ‘My conscious is turning into Igor.’ He’d been hoping he’d have at least until the old man croaked before he started haunting him. No such luck it seemed. Turning his attention back to Adam he noticed a small birthmark on his earlobe he’d never noticed before.

***

When Adam finally woke up Victor was reading a paper he’d bought earlier that day. He didn’t notice he’d woken up at first. When he did look up he say Adam looking at him through half open eyes. ‘How are you?’ he asked folding up the paper. ‘Dunno. Can’t feel anything.’ Victor nodded. ‘Yes that’ll be the pian killers.’ Adam’s looked thoughtful. ‘How long have you been here?’ he asked. ‘Since you got out of surgery. Been a few hours.’ ‘You eaten?’ Victor laughed at this and shook his head. ‘Listen to you. Just out of surgery and you’re worrying about me.’ ‘Well if something happens to you I’m in trouble.’ Adam joked. For a moment the two just stayed looking at each other not speaking. ‘Oh I brought your stuff.’ Victor placed the bag on the bed. It should be enough to tide you over until you can come home. Adam nodded and began to pull on the zip with his good arm. He pulled out the tablet first. ‘You can borrow it. Just don’t go spending any money okay.’ Adam gave a small smile. ‘Yeah thanks.’ He then pulled out one of his books before putting it back. Then he frowned and reached in and pulled out the shirt. ‘I figured that was in your bed for a reason,’ Victor explained. Adam nodded. ‘I would have given it back. But I didn’t think anyone could repair it.’ Victor shook his head. ‘No it’s in a pretty bad state. But never mind, I have plenty of others.’ Adam let out a sigh of relief reached into the bag again the shirt still on his lap. Once he’d done checking the contents and confirming there was nothing else he wanted or needed he sat back again clutching the shirt in his good hand. ‘Ah I see we’re awake.’ Said a nurse as she stepped inside. ‘What’s this?’ she asked when she spotted the shirt. ‘I can’t sleep without it.’ Adam admitted his face turning red. ‘Oh don’t worry sweetie. You can keep your blanky.’ She turned to Victor. ‘So how is he?’ she asked. Victor frowned not sure why she was asking him. ‘Well the pain killers seem to be working.’ He said. The nurse nodded and made a note. ‘And do you have any questions.’ ‘Yeah how long do you think I’ll be in here?’ the nurse gave him a smile that people usually reserved for small children who wouldn’t shut up. ‘Oh sweetie you can’t go home just yet. You need to rest.’ ‘So how long will it be?’ Victor asked quickly noticing the growing anger in Adam’s eyes. ‘Oh a couple of days at least. Just to be sure. But we rarely keep anyone in longer. Not for a broken bone.’ She quickly checked the iv drip before leaving. ‘I don’t like her.’ Adam grumbled. ‘She doesn’t seem very professional.’ Victor agreed. ‘Do you want me to have a word with someone about that?’ Adam shook his head. ‘No I don’t want a fuss. I mean it’s just one nurse.’ Victor nodded. After sitting in silence for a moment Adam spoke again. ‘I’m really tired so if you want to go home and get something to eat I don’t mind.’ ‘Are you sure?’ Adam nodded his eyes closed. ‘Okay. I’ll be back to check up on you tomorrow. As soon as I can.’ He waited for Adam to respond but he was already asleep. Standing up he made his way out of the hospital to the car and drove back to the castle. It was well past dinner by the time he got home. Igor had something waiting for him in the oven. ‘I assumed you wouldn’t have eaten today.’ He said as he set the plate down. He went to pour the wine but Victor held out a hand to stop him. ‘Not tonight Igor.’ He tucked into the meal a little more eagerly than he usually would have, he really was starving, and finished without leaving a crumb. ‘So how is Adam?’ Igor asked as he took the plate. ‘Fine. The surgery went well. He was getting tired so I left him to get some reast.’ Igor nodded. ‘Anything for desert sir?’ Victor shook his head. ‘No I’m actually quite tired myself.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll be heading off to bed now.’ Igor nodded. ‘Well I’ll see you tomorrow sir. Sleep well.’ Victor nodded and headed out the door.

[aweirdkindofyellow]

Here I Am, There You Are Pt. 13

Jack Barakat x OC ‘Rachel has been best friends with Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack since high school. What happens when one of them gets married?’

Part 13

I took a deep breath in as my stomach felt like it flipped. It was constantly in knots, sending shivers through my entire body. All I could do was stare off into the distance and breathe slowly to keep the contents of my stomach inside. The robe I was wearing both felt like it was choking me and like it wasn't wrapped around my body tight enough.

Everything in me wanted to run to Jack. But he wasn't here. I couldn't do that. Even if I could, it would ruin everything.

"Wow," my sister sighed heavily as she sat on the coffee table across from me, "you really need to get yourself together."

My eyes snapped towards her and I glared. As much as I wanted to retort something back, telling her to leave me alone, I really couldn't. There was too much fear that I'd throw up as soon as I opened my mouth and then my mind was racing so much that any words I said would get jumbled up anyway.

"It's your turn to get your makeup done," Anna added cocking her head towards the empty chair facing the mirror.

I shook my head in quick short motions. "Mom can go first."

"Rachel–"

"Mom can go first."

Anna just exhaled again and got back up to tell my mom to go next. I could tell that she wanted to slap me. Honestly, I would have slapped myself. I really was acting unreasonably. She was really holding herself back. Usually, she wouldn't hesitate to literally snap me out of it. She had done it many times over the years.

I continued to sit there on the couch, starting to bite on my nails before I realised they were acrylic and had just been done. It made no sense; I didn't know why I was such a nervous wreck. There wasn't really any reason to be. Sure, some cute romanticised nerves would have been okay, but I literally had to keep myself in check so that I wouldn't pass out.

"Hey," Sascha said softly, unlike her usual loud self, and sat where my sister had been just a second before. Only she was a bit more supporting and even took hold of my hand, her thumb running over my knuckles. "Everything's going to be alright."

"I know, I know." I nodded in reassurance, but the shake in my voice and tapping foot said otherwise.

"Everything has been planned perfectly and it's all going smoothly, there's nothing you've got to worry about."

I tried putting on my best smile and looked at her. Honestly, I didn't know if looking at her had been a good idea or a bad idea. On one hand, it made me happy, but on the other it started making tears drop from my eyes.

"You look so pretty!" I gasped, admiring her. I could barely see the way the mustard coloured dress and professionally done brown glam makeup looked through the way the tears blurred everything. But still, it was amazing.

"Oh no, don't cry!" She started fussing and reached out to try and wipe some tears from my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," I sniffed as I tried to stop the tears by catching them before they even fell. "This is why I need to go last."

"We need to make sure you're ready, though."

"It will be fine."

1:30pm. That's how late it was. I still had an hour and a half before I had to be ready. That was more than enough time. For now, I could still rub my eyes freely. As long as I didn't lean too far back or ran my fingers through my hair, I would still be on track. My hair was already curled and in its updo, pinned together and all sprayed down. Touch ups were definitely going to happen, but redoing it would cause way too much stress.

"I come bearing information!" Ethan announced as he entered the room.

He was already completely ready to go. His ochre tie and navy suit were already on and fit perfectly. I told him he was allowed to join later, but he insisted on being there the entire time. Now he enjoyed being sent out to see how things were going.

I turned around in my seat to look at him while he closed the door behind himself again. Usually, it was just something small like the fact that the flowers had been placed on one half of the room. But every small thing interested me. It calmed my nerves just a little, especially since I could hardly go down and look myself.

"The guys are here and getting ready!" He said without waiting for a response from everybody. "Everything is going according to plan, or so I was told."

That time my nerves calmed down a whole lot. Just knowing that Jack was in the same building right now helped significantly. I didn't really know why that was the case. It wasn't like I thought he wouldn't show up, it was just a comfort having him close. For some reason, it finally made me feel ready to actually get ready.

While the girls cheered, Ethan came up to me and sat down next to Sascha.

His eyes went wide as he scanned my face. "Oh no, you weren't crying were you?"

"Good tears, though," I confessed. "I'm going to be crying many more times today."

"Okay, well..." he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wrapped gift with a twine ribbon. "Jack told me to give this to you."

I took the gift from him and looked at it in curiosity. It was some weird square and thin shape. "We promised each other we wouldn't do gifts!"

Ethan shrugged. "I'm just the messenger."

I sighed and carefully pulled on the twine string to undo the bow. Honestly, I felt very guilty for not getting Jack something, but at the same time it also warmed my heart. So, I carefully lifted the corners with tape and revealed the gift below the wrapping paper. What was left in my hands was a CD case. The cover was just that photo of us together in the cue for the Blink-182 concert back in high school when Jack let me borrow his baseball cap.

Next, I opened the case, expecting to find a CD that I would not be able to play now, but that wasn't the case at all. Instead, there were multiple pages like a little book. I recognised the first page as the album cover for Cheshire Cat by Blink-182. On it, though, there was a note in Jack's hand writing: Baby, you make me smile like a Cheshire Cat.

I flipped to the next page and found another album cover with a note. Every single page was exactly like this:

With you in my life I'll never have to live by myself in my Dude Ranch again.

There's isn't one I can think of for this one, but I have to include it. It's an important album.

I can't wait to Take Off My Pants and Jacket ;)

I'm going to have to Blink-182 times to stop all the happy tears from falling.

Thank god we didn't live in different Neighborhoods back when we were kids.

I wouldn't want to live anywhere but in our house in California with you.

I'll love you until we're Ninety-nine.

I couldn't stop grinning as I flipped through multiple times. It was absolutely perfect. Although he was a much bigger Blink fan than me, Blink was still quite important in our friendship and relationship. They had always been in the background somewhere. Now, Jack was friends with Mark and he had been invited, but it was still so fitting.

I closed the CD and carefully put it down. "Okay, I'm ready to get married."

"You still need to get your makeup done and your dress on," Anna reminded me.

"I know," I sighed, "but I'd just go like this."

"It's not much longer now," my mom encouraged as she got up from the makeup chair, being done much earlier than the others because she didn't want much makeup on. "And it's all your turn now."

"Yeah, alright," I nodded and got up, "let's do this!"

I walked over to the chair in front of the large mirror and sat down, making sure my robe still covered everything. Of course, I wasn't just completely naked underneath it, I was wearing my matching underwear. But that set was for Jack to see after we got married. I decided to get us a little treat, I didn't want to ruin that by accidentally showing it off now. Sure, when I was going to get changed into my dress, I would need help. But that was different.

The makeup artist carefully tilted my head back a little and started her work. We had already practiced the look on me, so I knew it was going to look good, but it was the real deal now. I could feel that she was being more gentle and cautious with her brush strokes. I completely trusted her and everything she did. Afterall, I did choose her because of her talent.

We had chosen to go with quite a neutral look. The foundation she used on me was very light coverage and left me looking glowy. She still used all the products, including highlighter, and contour. Even blush was added to give me a nice warm look. Everything was used in moderation, though. The eye look just consisted of some warm brown tones, thin eyeliner, and a bit of mascara. I also had opted not to go with lipstick, although the shade she had chosen was very beautiful. Instead we just went with a simple light pink toned lip gloss.

She was done relatively quickly. Despite how simple it was, it still took a little longer than everybody else's looks. It was a classic case of a low effort look actually not being low effort. Everything had to blend perfectly to continue to look natural. It needed to look glowy, but not shiny, bronzed but not fake tanned.

When I looked in the mirror, I couldn't stop admiring it and thanking her. Every little thing we finished brought me that much closer to actually getting married to Jack. In just a short while, I would officially be Rachel Steward Barakat. Although I technically was keeping my surname, I was taking over Jack's as my new official one.

"We have thirty minutes until you've gotta go downstairs," our wedding planner, Maisie, announced, "so I'd say it's time to put on your dress!"

"Oh my god, okay." I nodded and stood up. The nerves were starting again. "Not long now."

"You're going to look so beautiful." Sascha clapped her hands together and grinned at me while my sister rushed over to where my dress was hanging in its protective cover.

I walked over to join Anna. She held onto the zipper and waited for everybody to come around before opening the cover, careful not to accidentally damage the fabric. Everybody awed at the dress. It was so different to what Anna had worn to her wedding, but it fit me perfectly. I didn't want all the lace and frills that she had. I went with something sleek and simple.

May, Jack's sister who was also one of my bridesmaids, put one of her hands on my shoulder. "Jack's going to love this dress."

"I love it," I laughed. She hadn't been there when I was choosing my dress, so this was the first time she had seen it.

Anna started pulling off the cover, leaving just my dress on its hanger. As much as we all enjoyed admiring it from afar, I did actually have to put it on so we could keep on schedule. So, Anna and Sascha nominated themselves to help me out. We went behind this screen that had been set up so I wouldn't be struggling around everybody. Putting on that dress was no joke. The skirt was made up of multiple layers to make it look fuller and there was no way for me to even try to reach the zipper. I was grateful for the help I had.

Once it was on, there was one thing left to do. I came from behind the screen and saw everybody gasp. I didn't want to smile yet until I actually saw myself as well. There was always a small fear that everybody was acting like I looked good to make me feel good. But then I turned around to look in the mirror, and I couldn't stop grinning either. I was so happy and knew I was only going to get happier as the day progressed.

My dress looked exactly as I had imagined. It was made out of a plain white fabric that was so smooth to touch. The top had a high neck neckline and no sleeves, leaving my shoulders exposed. Although my front was pretty much covered, my back was practically completely open, showing off the light tan I had. The skirt was a-line, clinching at my waist and connected to the top with a belt-like tin strap of fabric. The hem draped over the floor, creating a small train behind me. I already knew it was going to be impractical for our reception, which is why I could clip off the top layer to reveal a layer that only reached to the floor in the same fabric as the rest of the dress.

"You're so beautiful!" My mom gushed, tears pricking at her eyes.

"Mom," I sighed happily and accepted the hug she gave me. "You're going to make me cry!"

When we pulled away, her tears were already falling and I was trying my best to keep mine back. We all knew this was going to happen, but I still wanted to try to stop from messing up the beautiful makeup I had on.

"Oh, wait, here," Ethan interrupted, patting down his pockets and pulling out a tissue from his jacket. He reached over and handed it to me.

I quickly dabbed away the tears that were threatening to spill, looking up so I wouldn't accidentally close my eyes and let a tear drop. When I turned around to look at all the people I would have by my side, I saw they all had watering eyes. Well, all except Ethan. To make things even worse, my dad came into the room with Olive on a leash. His eyes fell on me and I could see his eyes twinkle.

He walked up to me and hugged me tightly. "My baby girl is getting married."

"Now I'm crying too," Ethan announced and sniffled. "Dammit."

I couldn't help but chuckle. We all still needed a second to compose ourselves before continuing on with the schedule. My hair was fixed and lightly sprayed down again and my makeup was lightly touched up, especially the area around my eyes. And then it was time to go out and find Jack.

We went downstairs and out the back of the church. My childhood church had some super nice gardens. Rather than just having the usual perfectly cut, bright green grass, they actually added some hedges, trees, and carefully picked patches of flowers. It was perfect for the easter egg hunts they always held, and it was definitely also perfect for our wedding photos.

Jack was already in the gardens with his groomsmen. Luckily his back was already to me, or else the first look would have prematurely happened. The photographer got into position while Alex told Jack that I was just down the path from them. The groomsmen left to go join my bridesmaids and parents to watch what would happen. I could feel the excitement pump the adrenaline through my veins. It was all happening.

When I was given the go ahead signal by the photographer, I started to approach Jack, careful not to ruin my dress this early in. The gravel path cracked underneath my heels and I tried my best to hold up my skirt just a little to keep it off the ground, but it didn't really do much.

"Are you ready?" I whispered as I put my hands gently down onto Jack's shoulders.

He took in a deep breath. "Can I turn around?"

"Yeah."

He shrugged his shoulders a few times to loosen up and then turned around swiftly. As soon as he got a glimpse, he yelled out, "fuck!"

I burst out with laughter. Of course that would be the first word he said to me after seeing me. It was exactly what I expected deep down. I was just glad we had decided to do this first look and not wait until the actual ceremony. He couldn't just scream it out in church.

"Shit, you look good," he stated a bit quieter and let his eyes wander up and down, slowly they started watering.

"Always the gentleman," I chuckled and gently put my hands on his cheeks.

"No, I'm serious," he took in a deep shaky breath, "are you sure you want to marry me?"

I nodded. "I wouldn't want to marry anybody else."

I didn't even need to stand on my toes to kiss him. It was like nobody was watching us anymore. At that moment, it was just us in that garden, surrounded by the green plants and colourful flowers, birds chirping from the tree tops. I didn't think it was possible for me to fall in love with him even more, but everything felt so right.

When we broke apart, Jack quickly and subtly wiped his eyes. "I'm so embarrassed right now. Here I am, fucking crying like a baby, and there you are looking all chill."

"I cried multiple times before I came down here, I just don't have any tears left to cry." I took hold of his hands.

He frowned and quickly wiped away another tear before returning his hand to mind. "I hope all good tears."

"Of course, nothing but. First, I got emotional when I saw Sascha after she was the first to be ready, then I cried when I just put on my dress and my mom cried, then I cried when everybody else was tearing up, then my dad came in and shed a few tears, and then Ethan joined in as well. You should be glad you weren't there."

"Hmm..." he faked a thinking face, pursing his lips and looking to the side. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I think I could have dealt."

"You would have been bawling your eyes out," I remarked jokingly. "Oh! Also, I almost cried when I got that CD case. But I managed to stay composed. Totally acted like I wasn't melting inside."

He started grinning, his eyes finally drying up. "You liked it?"

"I loved it," I stressed. "I just feel guilty for not doing something for you!"

"You looking so beautiful is all I need."

We shared another kiss. It was so strange to think that those were our last few kisses before we were a married couple. In just an hour or so, we were going to be up there saying our vows. It was all so surreal, and I couldn't wait for it.

"You ready to get married?" I whispered against his lips.

"Definitely."

Our moment eventually came to an end. Although I wanted it to last forever, I became more and more aware that there were people actually watching and waiting to join. There were definitely going to be a lot more moments for Jack and I to have, so I didn't need to worry. The photographer told us he had gotten some great photos of it, which was one of the most reassuring things I had heard that day. I didn't want to forget anything. Next, he started to direct us how to stand for the posed photos. We had pictures of just us two, pictures with our parents, of course pictures with the bridesmaids and groomsmen, maid of honour and bestman, and even one with Olive for fun.

That hour of waiting until the ceremony started went by so quickly. It felt like no time had passed and Jack and I were already saying our 'see you laters.' He went to the altar with his groomsmen while I went in the opposite direction with my dad and bridesmaids. The doors were closed, but I could hear all the buzzing inside. My heart was going insane. It was beating so fast that I was afraid it was actually going to bruise my ribs.

The first chords and notes from the piano started playing, and I knew that it was actually happening. We had chosen to go with a piano version of I'm lost without you by Blink-182. It was only right to choose a Blink-182 song. Jack had always been a big fan and the shows we went to as teenagers really solidified our relationship, even if it was only a friendship back then.

May walked out first, joining her brother up and giving him a quick hand squeeze before standing on my side. Anna followed after her. Jack and I only had four people each by our sides, so everything went at a comfortable slow pace. The long seconds were making me more and more nervous, but I knew that if we were hurried, I only would have been more stressed.

"I'll see you up there." Ethan winked and gave me a big comforting hug before he also got the go ahead from the wedding planner to go down the aisle.

I didn't get to see him walk down the aisle, I was still hidden with my dad.

"Hey, I love you," my dad said as we got ready to walk as well. "You'll always be my baby girl no matter what. I am so glad that you found Jack. I can't think of anybody who I'd rather hand you over to."

"Thank you," I barely managed to get out, my throat clamping shut from both the emotion and nerves.

And then we got to go through the doors as well. Everybody was looking at me, but my eyes were fixated on Jack. He was staring right back at me, his smile even brighter than it had been before. This time, he was managing to keep his tears at bay. I just kept beaming back. It was one simple wedding, but it was so perfect. Jack was perfect.

When we reached the altar, my dad kissed me on the cheek and unhooked his arm from mine. Jack held out his hand and helped me up the steps, which I was so grateful for. The last thing I wanted was to fall during my wedding. He gave me a comforting little squeeze before letting go of my hand again.

I had almost forgotten about the bouquet I had been clutching to my chest the entire time until I got to hand it over to Ethan. It consisted of a large range of different flowers. Freesia, roses, hydrangea, brunia berries and astilbes. They were a mixture of white, pale yellow, brighter yellow, and a nice blue, following the colour scheme we had chosen.

As soon as I was standing there, facing Jack again, the pastor started the ceremony. "Welcome family, friends, and loved ones. As I assume you all know, we are gathered here today to join Jack and Rachel in holy matrimony. They have asked me to make this more personal, so I am here to provide.

"I have seen Rachel grow up. From the time I baptised her as the smallest baby up until this day I have always known she was destined for great things. I have only had the pleasure to know Jack for a much shorter time, but he is a bright loving man. Together, I can tell that they are a perfect match. They complete each other in a way you will find nowhere else.

"Jack, Rachel let me in on a secret and told me she loves the way you always find a way to make her smile. She loves that you manage to always compliment her even if she is having a bad day. You always find a way to cheer her up. You listen and always make sure you are there, no matter how far apart. Most importantly, she loves you for staying despite seeing her at her worst and never made her feel unwanted.

"Rachel, believe it or not, Jack also told me a few things about you. He loves your smile, your voice, and your caring nature. He loves that you stuck by him through all these years and were always somebody to rely on. He adores the way you fall asleep before him and the way you kiss him in the morning when you leave for work. There is nothing he wouldn't do for you.

"Marriage is a joyous occasion. It is a commitment in life between two people. It radiates with love, the familiarity of home, and eternal friendship. Your relationship will take more than love to last. It takes trust and commitment, a willing to face the unknown together.

"You have come together this day so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of this minister of His word and this community of family and friends and so, in the presence of this gathering, I ask you to state your intentions.

"Jack, do you take Rachel to be your wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, remain faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

Jack took his eyes off the pastor and looked at me with a small smile. "I do."

"And Rachel," the pastor now asked me, "do you take Jack to be your wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, remain faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." I nodded, not taking my eyes of Jack.

The pastor then directed his words towards the crowd again. "Who gives Rachel to be married to Jack?"

My dad stood up, his hands clasped together. "I and the rest of her family do."

He bowed slightly before sitting down. It sounded a bit sexist, handing me over to get married to Jack like I was some property that had no own will. However, it was tradition. It wasn't that way anymore. Now, it only showed that everybody in my family supported us and my choice.

"I believe you have written your own vows," the pastor led into the next section. "Jack?"

Jack reached back and accepted the folded up piece of paper from his brother, who was his bestman. He took a deep breath in and wrapped his hand around the microphone, which he brought to his mouth. "Rachel, I know I've told you this many times before, but I'm going to repeat it again. I thank you for sticking with me throughout the years. If you were to go back in time and tell 16-year-old me that I would be up here today getting married to you, I would have passed out. I fell in love with you back then and promise to love you for the rest of our days, even if you call me 'dude.' I will always believe in you and support you every step of the way. I've always got your back. Even when we get taco bell. I promise to always give you the better taco of the two."

And then it was my turn. I got my notes from Ethan. "When I first met you, I thought you were strange. To be honest, I do still think that, but I would be lying if I didn't say I love everything about you. I love your jokes, your loyalty, your understanding, and even how frustrated you get when your hair just isn't having a good day. Your friendship has always meant so much to me and I promise to always reciprocate it, even if it means letting you have the last slice of pizza. When we first started dating, I had no idea where it was going to take us. I never could have imagined standing here today, so in love with you. I promise that I'll always be there as your biggest fan, no matter how far away you are."

It was difficult not to start crying again during our vows. Both of our voices occasionally went shaky, especially when we made eye contact with each other. I wanted nothing more than to just kiss him already, but I couldn't do that yet. We were just minutes away, though.

"The wedding ring symbolises the promises you have just made to each other." The pastor took over again. "It is a visible sign of the invisible power of love that binds you together. Let them serve as a representation of the way you feel today and let it remind you during times of hardships. This love is eternal. Now, please repeat after me. With this ring I am giving you my promise–"

"With this ring I am giving you my promise," Jack was the first to repeat, recieving the ring from his brother.

"To always love you."

"To always love you."

"Cherish you."

"Cherish you."

"Honour you and comfort you."

"Honour you and comfort you." Jack winked at me, causing me to chuckle, the ring catching a bit of light and reflecting it.

"I promise that I will love you."

He inhaled, feeling the same excitement I was. "I promise that I will love you.

"And keep my heart open to you."

"And keep my heart open to you," he bit his lip, getting a little impatient.

"All the days of my life."

"All the days of my life." He finally got to put the ring on my finger.

His hands were trembling quite a bit, but he still managed to slide the ring on. I had already taken off my engagement ring and put it on my other hand for the time being. So he didn't have to worry about taking that one off first, which was probably a good call. The ring he had chosen was a perfect match with my engagement ring. It had the same band – the same rose gold weaving between the clusters of small diamonds. They were going to go so well together as a set, which is exactly what Jack had intended. I was going to switch back my engagement ring with it as soon as we were married.

"Rachel, please also repeat after me," the pastor then instructed me. "With this ring I am giving you my promise."

I was given the ring I had chosen for Jack by Ethan. "With this ring I am giving you my promise."

"To always love you."

"To always love you." I had to wipe away a quick tear when I stared into Jack's eyes.

"Cherish you."

"Cherish you."

"Honour you and comfort you."

"Honour you and comfort you."

"I promise that I will love you."

"I promise that I will love you." I could now feel the same impatience that Jack was feeling when he was repeating the words. I wanted to make this official already. I wanted to kiss him and call him mine.

"And keep my heart open to you."

"And keep my heart open to you."

"All the days of my life."

"All the days of my life."

I now got to slip the ring on Jack's finger as well. While my ring was quite thin and delicate, I didn't see that fit with Jack. I went with something much more robust. It was a dark gray tungsten ring that had a nice grainy texture. I thought something that was more that colour suited him much more than a simple gold or silver ring. To show that it belonged with mine, however, there was some sneaky rose gold on the inside. You couldn't really see it when it was on, but it was definitely there. It was visible from the top, but most people wouldn't look at Jack's finger that way.

"Jack and Rachel, you've come here today to declare your love and commitment to each other in front of friends, family, and God. It is my honour and delight to pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Jack didn't waste a single second. He hooked his arm around my waist and lightly pushed the palm of his hand onto the small of my back to bring me closer. I quickly managed to put my own hands on the back of his head to close the space even more. Everybody was clapping and cheering as our lips met halfway. I was sure that my parents were yet again shedding a few tears. But right at that moment, all I could think about was Jack. I wished to never forget the way I was feeling then.

When we finally parted, the pastor announced, "it is my pleasure to present to you for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Barakat!"

Jack and I couldn't stop grinning at each other. It was so surreal. We were actually married now. We were officially husband and wife. I was excited yet scared for what was to come. But I knew that Jack was going to be there by my side every step of the way. We were going to face it all together. Everything was going to be alright.

We walked down the aisle together, hand in hand. Everybody continued to cheer for us, which was one of the strangest feelings ever. Jack just continued to glance down at me with that goofy smile of his. It filled me with love every single time, warming my heart and making me feel like I was back in high school with some stupid crush.

Jack and I went all the way out of the church and stepped into the nice car we had rented to take us to the venue for our wedding reception. Everybody else was going to meet us there. It was at this very nice old barn that had some of the most amazing natural lighting. Around the venue was a large field, giving us both indoor and outdoor space for our guests to enjoy. With how good the weather was, it was the perfect venue.

Jack wouldn't stop holding my hand and kissing it the entire ride over. We didn't speak much, we were still enjoying the moment. Part of me wanted to jump up and down and kiss him all over. But the other part of me, just wanted to take it all in and relish it. My mind kept going over our vows again and again. I really didn't want to ever forget them. It was all so perfect. We were officially married now.

When we arrived, we didn't immediately go straight to the reception area. Although we were the first ones there, we weren't ready yet to be part of the party. There were still a few things to do before that. Those all were to happen in the building next to the barn, also known as the farmhouse. It was where smaller rooms and the bathrooms were. Now it was a great place for storage of extras and for us to get ready again.

As soon as we entered the farmhouse, we were greeted by the wedding planner's assistant. "Based on your smiles, I'm assuming everything went well."

I nodded and looked up at Jack, our hands tightly intertwined. "I don't know how others felt about it, but I thought it was perfect."

"Better than I could have ever imagined," Jack agreed, softly kissing me with a big smile. "Although I did really have to hold back from swearing in the church."

"You did surprisingly well, not even one slip up," I giggled.

The assistant wedding planner led us to the room where we got to wait as all the guests streamed in, both from the church and from people who hadn't been invited to the ceremony. They all got to enjoy the drinks at the bar and socialise while I got my makeup and hair retouched. I wasn't complaining, though. Neither was Jack. We'd get to make our great entrance and all our wedding photos would continue to look great.

Jack and I just got to relish in the fact that we had just gotten married while everybody around us did their job. They had all done this enough times to know when to interrupt and when not to. It actually got things done really quickly. As soon as everything had been touched up, I waltzed back over to Jack. I wrapped my arms around his neck, of course pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I wish I could drink and have fun with you," I mumbled, lightly brushing the hair on the back of his head with my fingers.

"We talked about this," he muttered back, "I won't drink if you don't want me to."

"I wouldn't want to put you through that kind of torture." I straightened out his collar.

"Well, I promise you I won't drink too much," he compromised. "I do actually want to remember every detail of today."

"And you don't want to get a bad case of whiskey dick on our wedding night," I whispered to him lowely so nobody could hear before giving him a much deeper kiss than I had given him since we had left the church.

We were interrupted by a whistle coming from the door. I checked to see who was in that direction to see Ethan walking in, Sascha right behind him.

"Keep that for tonight!" He teased with one horrible wink, almost as bad as Jack's winks.

I slowly dropped my arms off of Jack's shoulders. "Well aren't you funny?"

"Just think about it," he continued, holding back a mischievous grin, "everybody in that room knows you're going to bone when you leave."

"Oh, great, thanks." I shook my head and subconsciously took a small step away from Jack.

"You chose him to be your maid of honour?" Sascha judged me harshly. "You could have had me!"

"I know..." I sighed dramatically as if I was regretting my choice – of course I wasn't. "But, hey, I gave you the privilege of planning my bachelorette party."

"And it was the best one ever," she pointed out.

"Very true."

"Hey, so, when are you guys going to join?" Ethan redirected the conversation to what he initially came in for. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, immediately seeming distracted.

Still, I answered. "About ten minutes or so."

He hummed in response, obviously not caring much anymore, and started typing. "Okay, well, Chase is here, so I am going to go find him and I will see you again later."

With that, he left the room very quickly.

Sascha sighed and rolled her eyes jokingly. "We were actually here to help you out with your dress. Surprisingly, Ethan was the one who reminded me."

"Ooh, yes!" I looked down at the skirt of my dress which was still at its very long length. If I went into our reception like this, I would not be able to dance and it would be stained by alcohol and mud forever.

Sascha helped me undo all the seamless little clasps. Most of them were in the back, where they definitely weren't visible, so she was very useful. Although Ethan was my maid of honour, Sascha really technically was one as well. Ethan helped me with things like vows, checking on the planning, and hyping me up. Sascha, however, did the other jobs. She was more involved with the 'female' aspects; she didn't mind seeing me fully naked and gladly helped out with fixing my appearance. Of course, the bachelorette party had also been her job.

I understood why Ethan suddenly ran away, so I was in no way mad at him or upset with him. He was about to go into his sophomore year at college and pretty early on in his freshman year he met this guy. His name was Chase and he wasn't somebody Ethan would have usually hung out with back in high school. Chase was pretty shy and quiet, had very curly blonde hair, and wore round glasses. At first, Ethan was just glad to have made a friend, but they quickly started dating as well. I hadn't seen Ethan that happy in a while.

Once the final clasp of my dress was undone, Sascha carefully removed the skirt layer. She made sure to fold it delicately so things wouldn't crease and wrinkle and even hung it up for me.

"Damn..." Jack breathed out and checked me out again. "You look amazing."

"I'm still wearing the same thing!" I chuckled, brushing a piece of hair that was supposed to be framing my face behind my ear.

He continued to look at me with loving eyes. "You are beautiful."

It was another perfect moment to share a kiss. So we did. This time, it was only a brief peck, but it still radiated love.

"While I'm still here, would you like me to help you go to the bathroom before you join the party again?" Sascha suggested.

"That is actually a very good idea," I agreed with a single nod. There probably wasn't going to be much time during the reception for me to leave, so I was going to take this opportunity.

"Okay, let's go."

I started following her out of the room, but quickly ran back to Jack to deeply kiss him yet again. Even leaving him for a brief moment today already made me miss him. I didn't want to leave his side. It was amazing to think we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, and now it was also officially recognised.

Although Jack and I kept saying we didn't want to forget a thing about our wedding day, our reception was actually a blur to me. It went by so quickly. We had our first dance, I danced with my dad and Jack with his mom. Everybody enjoyed the live band we had chosen. It was all still going just as planned, at it was amazing. We even managed to get some food despite all the people who came up to us and congratulate us. I couldn't recall anymore who I had spoken to and who I hadn't spoken to. It all happened so fast. One moment, I was lost in my own little world dancing with Jack, the next we were stepping into the car to go to our hotel.

Jack had kept his promise and paced himself. He was only a little tipsy as we stood in the elevator, waiting to go up to our suite for the night. All I could think about as we were leaving our friends and family was that they all knew what was going to happen now. Ethan really did open my eyes up to that. But I wasn't going to let it stop me from enjoying myself.

As soon as we entered the room and the door shut behind us, Jack and I started the complicated process of kissing and taking off our clothes. He was very eager to take off my dress, yet still took good care of it. There was no throwing around with it, he even took the time to carefully place it on the armchair in the room. However, as soon as he saw the lingerie I was wearing, he had me pressed up against the wall, and all his inhibitions disappeared.

"I recall promising you we'd make a baby after we got married," I whispered against Jack's lips, taking this second to catch my breath and calm my rapidly beating heart.

"Really? When was this?" He chuckled deeply and started kissing down my neck.

I gave him some more access and brushed my hands through his hair in anticipation. "After our high school reunion."

"I was one drunk boy." He smirked against my skin, his hot breath flowing over me.

"I know." I rubbed my foot along his leg, biting my bottom lip as his hands started roaming freely again. "That's why you just say the word when you're ready, and we can give it a shot."

He broke away from my neck, making me feel cold, but the way he stared right into my eyes kept the fire brewing. It felt like he was staring for minutes, but it must have just been seconds. He grew a small smile and my heart skipped a beat.

"The word," he said quietly and pressed his lips against mine heavily.

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Birthday

Birthday - 1.6k

Happy birthday Chey! ( @warrentrash ) You’re amazing and I hope this year is amazing for you!

There was a lot of things Warren was not fond of. Jubilee’s aesthetic (all her bright colors gave him a headache), the fact his roommate tried to kill him twice (technically Warren tried to kill his roommate, but let’s not get technical), hangovers, his metal wings, his very apparent daddy issues, and birthdays. These were only a few things Warren wasn’t keen on.

And then he met you.

You loved everything, always trying to live life to the fullest. You had a new, bold outfit on every day— you dyed your hair a different color every few months, and you genuinely liked just about everyone.

-

When you both started dating, it sparked controversy in your peers. They didn’t understand how the ‘god of darkness’ and the ‘sunflower child’ could fall in love. It was weird to them, seeing you with your winged boyfriend, decked out in black, but you didn’t care.

-

Warren slowly started to change. He wasn’t as moody anymore, started drinking less, and actually formed a pretty solid friendship with his roommate.

And on certain days he wasn’t decked out in all black!

-

You were lounging on the couch, playing with one of Warren’s loose curls, his head resting on your stomach. The TV was on, but you didn’t know what it was showing.

“Mail call!” Peter called out. “Let’s see… letter for Charles, teen vogue magazine…” Peter flipped through the stack quickly, only stopping for a split-second to throw something at Warren’s head.

“Ow!” Warren got up and felt the back of this head.

“It’s for you, (Y/N).”

“Thanks, Pete!” You grabbed the envelope and looked it over.

“Who's it from?”

“My mom.”

“Is everything okay?” You tore open the envelope and pulled out a card.

On the front It had a dog sitting in a chair, “’Wanna know my three favorite words?’” You opened it and read the message inside, “‘That’s my daughter.’ Happy birthday! Happy birthday (Y/N)! I hope New York’s treating you well! Can’t wait to see you during your next break. Your dad and I love & miss you. Xoxo Mom.”

Warren glanced at the card, unsure of what to say. He’d never received a birthday card before. What do you do when you get one? “Is it your birthday?”

“In two days, but since my parents don’t live in the area they probably sent it early.”

“Two days?! Babe when were you gonna tell me?!”

You sheepishly grimaced, “Well, you don’t like celebrating your birthday, or anyone’s really for that matter, so I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Warren laughed, “Do you remember the time you and Jubilee made me dress up in drag?”

You smiled and nodded, “Uh huh, you make a very pretty girl Angel.”

He kissed your cheek, “Thanks, but even if I’m not too interested in something, I usually do it at least once anyway. Besides, it’s your birthday! If I’m gonna celebrate a day of birth, it should be yours. You’ve been there for me, and you’ve helped me grow into a better person— I love you sunshine.”

-

Hank wanted to discuss some things with you regarding your suit, which left Warren to himself for a few hours.

Warren opened a door slowly, mentally preparing what to say. “Hey, Scott. You free?”

“Uh yeah. What’s up?”

“No love for me?” Peter whined.

“Fine, join in on the conversation. You will anyway.”

Peter shot up from his bed, “Damn right I will! What are we talking about?”

“I just found out when (Y/N)’s birthday is, and I have no idea how to celebrate it.”

“Get her a birthday present? Bake her a cake? Throw a party?”  

“Warren, do you not— how do you not— you do know what people usually do for birthdays right?”

He shrugged, “Sorta.”

“Didn’t we celebrate Kurt’s birthday a few months ago?”

“Yeah, but someone,” Scott glared at Warren, “decided we should all get hammered.”

“That was Jubilee’s idea! She just asked me stuff about vodka. Still, don’t know why it was important.”

“I don’t think anyone fully remembers what happened on Kurt’s birthday so maybe we shouldn’t base any ideas on that. When’s (Y/N)’s birthday anyway?”

“Two days.”

“Two— You mean to tell us you just found out your girlfriend’s birthday is in two days?!”

Warren frowned, “I know, I know, I’m a shit excuse of a boyfriend. It just wasn’t really something we brought up. I don’t like celebrating my birthday, so she figured why to bring her’s up. The only reason I found out is that her mom sent a birthday card!”

“That’s okay man. You’ve still got two days to plan something for her. We can help you.”

-

Planning for your birthday was a challenge. Warren didn’t like parties much, they just tempted him to drink more, but Peter was trying to push him towards throwing a party. However, Scott could sense his discomfort and shot down Peter’s idea, by arguing two days wasn’t enough time.

-

His argument won, and a few hours later, Warren had a pretty good idea of what he’d do for your birthday.

-

First, he would make you dinner.

“You know how to cook?” Scott was bewildered, Warren didn’t seem like the person who knew how to cook—, he grew up with servants and money, and in Germany, he had close to nothing.

“A little bit. Whiskey doesn’t always fix hunger. Besides, I can just follow a recipe. I’ll be fine.”

-

He got some recipes from the library, as he needed options on what to make.

“Tacos?” He asked aloud, looking over a recipe. “No. Those can be really messy to eat, and I don’t like tacos much anyways. Steak?” He shook his head, something just seemed off about making steak.

Warren’s mind started to wonder, what was (Y/N)’s favorite food?

“Jean makes the best fucking lasagna in the universe. There! I said it!”

“Fuck or the fact Jean makes the best lasagna ever?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Lasagna silly!”

Warren kissed your forehead, “Just making sure.”

“Mmhmm.”

-

He banged on Jean’s door. It opened, “Come in!”

“Hey, Jean I need your lasagna recipe.”

“Hi, Warren! Wait— you need my what?”

“I need your lasagna recipe. Don’t ask, just know it’s important.”

“Alright. Give me a second.” She opened a desk drawer and grabbed a paper. “Here. Just give it back when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Jean!” He took the paper and went on his way.

An angel on a mission if you will.

-

Then, he would get your favorite movie and set it up on the roof.

He gathered the things he’d need— white sheet, two poles to wrap it around, an actual projector, and a bunch of pillows and blankets.

“Alright, it’s supposed to be clear and pretty nice out tonight. This means everything should go perfectly! Great!” Warren looked over his finished work. “I think this is good. I hope this is good. God, I hope this is all okay.”

-

It was finally your birthday. Warren was nervous, but also excited. You! His sunshine was born today, years ago. He’d have to send your parents a thank you card or something.

-

He sat in his classes idly, bouncing his leg. “Just ten more minutes,” He mumbled. “Ten more minutes.”

When the teacher dismissed the class, Warren ran out so fast, you’d think he was Peter.

Warren had asked Peter and Scott to keep you distracted while he made dinner.

-

They both knew you’d think something was up if they tried to distract you for a few hours, so they had Jubilee and Jean help.

“I went on two dates last week, and they both sucked,” Jubilee groaned.

“Was it with the same guys you met at that one party?”

“Yeah, and just, ugh they were awful. John showed up thirty minutes late with no good excuse as to why! Can you believe him?”

“How rude!”

Jubilee and Jean nodded, “I know. And then the other guy I found out had a freaking girlfriend!”

“No way!”

“I know! Like, what the heck buddy? You aren’t even that cute!”

Jubilee shared more stories about the bad dates she’d had in the past three months. They all ranged from “He only talked about his car” to “His mom showed up halfway through!”

“Oh! (Y/N).”

“Yeah Jean?”

“Warren wants you to meet him on the roof.”

“Oooo. Sounds fun.”

You playfully hit Jubilee’s arm, “Stop it.”

“Just saying.”

“Whatever, I’ll see you guys later.”

“Have fun (Y/N)!”

-

It didn’t take you long to get to the roof, as you’d gone up to it many times before. You hadn’t seen Warren much at all today, and it made you a bit sad. Sure, everyone needed space sometimes, but today was your birthday. Even if he didn’t like celebrating those kinds of things, you still felt a bit upset.

You saw him sitting on a pile of blankets. “Warren, babe?” He shot up when he heard your voice, and you smiled.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” You greeted. “What’s all this?”

“Happy birthday?” He said it as more of a question, and you almost didn’t hear him.

“Wait, what?”

“I uh, borrowed Jean’s lasagna recipe and I set up your favorite movie. I know it’s not much—”

“You did all this for me?”

He nodded, “I know I don’t like celebrating birthdays much, but you mean a lot to me. I love you, and if you weren’t born, then you wouldn’t be here and... “ Warren was tearing up. You felt him almost tearing up. He wasn’t always the best with using words to show his emotions, but damn— this was super simple yet, it tugged at your heartstrings.  

You spread your arms around his frame and hugged him, “Thank you. I love you, I love this. Thank you so much.”

“I’m sorry.” He stated while wiping his teary eyes.

“It’s alright, I understand. Let’s enjoy your wonderful cooking skills, shall we?”

“We shall.”

[varricmancer]

Lost And Found | 3

Pairing: Varric Tethras x OC

Word Count: 5,880

Summary: Instead of the nothingness she had craved, Crystal woke up in the world of Thedas. What had once been merely a story that she loved now seemed very real and she was right in the heart of it all. She soon finds a reason to live again and a love in the arms of someone as quietly broken as her.

Warnings: Attempted suicide (not graphic, but possible trigger). The OC has depression and low self-esteem, so don’t expect her to be some bright mary sue. At the same time, this sounds darker than it is. It’s going to have fluff and comedy and all that eventually, but OC has some growing to do first. She’s just not the usual strong and easygoing character many oc’s are. She’s more of a delicate creature. Also, it is Dragon Age, so there will be descriptions of war/battles/violence.

Notes: Would you guys be interested in a chapter from Varric’s POV? 

The day after the Herald left the crossroads was spent packing up what Crystal thought she’d need to keep from her little borrowed hut. Giles had assured her that she was free to take anything, but she only wanted to take essentials considering how much traveling they’d be doing not only now, but in the future when they would need to move to Skyhold. 

She left out what she would need for the remaining week, of course, but packed up everything else she wanted to keep. All she had to use were flour sacks until she could afford to get something better. All she determined worth keeping was the clothing she could actually wear, the fur and small blanket from the bed (she hoped for a decent place at Haven, but she also knew they were still starting out and struggling too), and the small collection of paper and charcoal sticks she’d been hoarding. She’d been itching to draw, but paper itself was hard to obtain for the common folk as it was all made by hand. Parchment was a little easier, but still hard to come by in the middle of the wilderness. 

She spent several days like that, giving away what she couldn’t use and preparing the hut for the next occupant. It was on the third night that the sending crystal Varric had given her began to glow. She picked it up and sat on her cot in anxious fascination. She was a little worried about trying to keep up with a conversation on such a weird device, not that she’d been any better at them on cellphones. Texting was much more her speed. After a few moments, the crystal made a little sound like a delicate bell, followed by the rumbles of Varric’s voice. 

“So, the Magistrate is standing there looking like he has a giant staff up his ass and goes, "I was looking for someone with your...special talents.” You can tell right away that Hawke has decided to fuck with the guy, because he gets that crazy grin of his going and says, “I'm guessing you don't mean my ability to juggle small rodents while humming Orlesian ballads."

There’s a rumble of laughter and Crystal realizes that he’s telling a story to his group, probably sitting around a fire at one of the camps. She smiles to herself and lays on her little cot, listening as he continues the story. She doesn’t even mind if he probably did the Thedas version of butt-dialing her. She found his voice comforting, a bit of familiarity in this strange land. She soon found herself falling asleep with a smile on her face. 

***

It quickly became apparent after three more nights of the sending crystal activating that Varric was letting her listen to the stories on purpose. She couldn’t figure out why, but she was grateful. She’d spend her days helping where she could around the village, and her nights relaxing in her cot listening to the stories, some familiar and some he was clearly making up on the spot. Sometimes the others would join in and tell stories of their own, sometimes they would just discuss things that happened that day and their plans for the next. Anytime the conversation swayed towards discussing Crystal herself, she noticed Varric was quick to change the subject. She figured the others weren’t aware she was listening in.

The best reason she could come up with was that he’d been very observant and noticed she had the constitution of a terrified rabbit and had decided to try to let her get to know them a little bit before she ran off with them. It seemed like a very Varric-like thing for him to do, she supposed. 

Tonight, however, she was hoping to hear it in person as it had been a week. She figured if they wanted to be technical they wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, but she’d heard that the Herald had been spotted nearby and would most likely arrive in the crossroads in a matter of hours. Being that it was the middle of the afternoon already, she guessed they would most likely stay the night and leave for Haven the next day. 

Thankfully, they would be arriving to see an improved situation. The sisters and Mother Giselle had already left for Haven days ago, taking the wounded soldiers with them. That cleaned up the area quite a bit, as people were able to take back their own houses and the area was no longer haunted by the screams of the dying. 

With the supplies the Herald had given them, the people themselves were looking better. Everyone was well fed and clothed. Crystal had even gotten to bathe with real soap, simple as it had been. It probably wasn’t good to use it on her hair, but she didn’t care. She was clean from head to toe for the first time in weeks, even if she’d still had to use a bucket of water instead of an actual tub. She was just happy that the next time she saw everyone, she wouldn’t look like an unbathed goblin. 

In fact, as she slipped in feet into the best looking pair of shoes she could find, she realized she’d unconsciously taken a great deal of care with her appearance. It had taken her nearly an hour to dry her long hair near the fire (good God she missed hair dryers), and she’d let the results fall freely down her back in cascading waves. She was pleased that the harsh soap didn’t seem to dry it out that much.  The dress she was wearing was the best she could find, long and a lovely royal blue color, if a bit scratchy. Obviously, she wasn’t going to find something of amazing quality out in the middle of nowhere, but she looked decent enough in it and the color looked good with her brown hair. 

She was growing nervous, she realized, as she began fluttering around her little hut. She was anxious to get out of here, yes, but that also meant she was going right into the middle of everything. She was terrified that maybe she was making a mistake and should just stick it out here, or at least wait until they went to Skyhold before joining them. That would be the cowardly choice, of course, but she’d never claimed to be brave. 

She huffed in frustration and grabbed a precious piece of paper and one of her charcoal sticks, striding outside to sit near the little pond. There was a log stump there that she liked to use as a table, so she set her things down and observed the bustle of the little village. Soon enough she caught sight of Giles standing near the crossroads sign speaking to one of the Inquisition soldiers. She smiled and set charcoal to paper, letting her overactive mind quiet as she drew. The paper wasn’t what she was used, of course, and the bumps and ridges in it made her displeased with the result, but it would do. 

After nearly half an hour, she judged her sketch good enough and cleaned the charcoal from her hands with a quick flick in the pond. She didn’t want to risk getting anything on the one good dress she had. Giles hadn’t moved from his spot near the stone fence, though the soldier whose ear he’d been talking off had since moved on, so she walked over to join him. He grinned when she got close enough, waggling his eyebrows in his exaggerated way. 

“Well, don’t ye clean up nicely, lass.” 

“I’m hoping after the past few weeks we’ve all had that we all cleaned up nicely,” she laughed, then shyly handed the paper to Giles. 

“For me?” He stood up straight and took the paper, whistling as he looked it over. “Now, no ones ever made my likeness before, but even I can tell this is good.”

She beamed from the simple praise. “I studied art. Not sure what good that’s going to do me here, but it’s what I know. Anyway, this is just a simple thank you for looking out for me. You know I don’t have anything else, so this is the least I could do.” 

Giles reached out and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “Lass, ye don’t owe me a thing except staying safe. I feel like I’m sending ye right into the mouth o’ the beast, but the Herald lad seems a good sort. Certainly helped the crossroads, and I hear tell he shut down the fighting all over the Hinterlands. I think if I have to trust anyone with ye, it would be him and his lot.” 

There was a commotion near the tunnel and the two shared a looked before observing as people crowded the party coming out of it. She sent Giles a little grin and wandered over, hoping it was who she thought it was. 

The Herald and his crew were all riding new mounts, along with a few riderless ones behind them. The trip to Dennant was apparently successful. The mounts varied greatly from the Herald’s Fereldan Forder to Solas’s Red Hart. She was not looking forward to hearing that thing in person. It was bad enough in the game. 

One of the mounts without a rider was a Battle Nug, something she’d never thought she’d see in her life beyond the screen. It was cute in a strange sort of way, with the rhino face and bunny ears. The hairless skin was cocoa brown, not unlike her own hair. Although the gorilla-like hands would take some getting used to. How did it not hurt it to run around on those things? 

Varric separated from the party, trotting his sturdy looking pony over to her and jumping down as he grinned. The once over he gave her was fairly subtle, but not enough that she didn’t catch the way his eyes roamed over the curves revealed by her almost too tight dress. She could also see just how quickly he dismissed whatever he was thinking as he turned to observe the nug. 

“Ugly, huh?” he chuckled. “Pretty sure he just gave it to us because no one else was buyin. Apparently, it’s a runt and when people actually buy these things they want em big.” 

“It’s kinda cute in a way,” she shrugged, her smile widening when he groaned. 

“You’re going to get along great with Red. She has two of the regular ones at Haven. She’s going to freak when she sees this guy.” 

“Is that who he’s for?”

“Don’t know yet. When I said he gave it to us, I meant really gave. As in threw it in for free. I guess while it goes along easy enough, it’s really picky about who rides it. Wouldn’t let any of us touch him more than a couple pats. Dennant says it’s nice and well trained though,” Varric shrugs, and walks next to her as she goes closer to the Battle Nug.

As if it had sensed it was being talked about, the beast’s attention zeroed in on the two of them. Its snout wiggled as it scented the air, before releasing a loud huff and walking closer. Crystal reached out her hand and let it sniff at her, giggling as the heated breath tickled her. After getting in a few good sniffs, it batted it’s head against her hand, begging for pets. She scratched the area between his huge horns, the feel of the skin not unlike a hairless cat she’d once pet. 

Suddenly, it surprised both of them when the Battle Nug dropped down and began trying to herd her towards it’s back. 

“I think it wants you to ride it,” Varric chuckles, shaking his head. 

Crystal stuttered, “What? I’m...I don’t even know how to ride.” 

“How were you planning on getting to Haven?” Varric asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I don’t know,” she answered weakly, staring at the huge saddled back of the nug. “A wagon or something?” 

“If that was the case you should have gone with the sisters. With us, you’d have to ride. I suppose if you’re really scared you can ride with one of us, but it looks like this big lug has chosen you, so maybe you can give it a try at least.”

She bites her lip and stares as she tries to gather enough courage to climb up. The nug is still nuzzling into her side, trying to encourage her, she supposes. 

“I’m wearing a dress, Varric.” 

“The saddle is big enough that you could sit side saddle. I’ll help you up.”

She sighs and lets Varric lead her to the side of the beast. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not a big fan of riding either, but it gets the job done,” Varric shrugs and laces his hands together as a makeshift mounting block. 

She straightens her back, nodding in a show of fake bravery. She places her hand on Varric’s shoulder and is momentarily distracted by how solid it felt under her fingers. Thick and muscled - and flexing? A quick glance at Varric’s lazy grin and dark eyes is enough proof that he knew where her mind had gone and was maybe showing off a little. 

She flushed and quickly lifted a leg, stopped by Varric clicking his tongue. 

“The right leg first for side saddle.” 

She nods and does as he says, placing her right leg in his cupped hands. He boosts her up a little and she scoots into the leather saddle. The squeal she makes when the nug stands up was embarrassing, and Varrics slow chuckles didn’t help. 

“Alright, now these guys are pretty slow so you don’t need to worry about speed. Reins are fairly easy; left and right, pull back lightly when you want to stop. Press into him with your thighs to go.” 

Crystal releases the death grip she has on the saddle horn, reaching for the reins. Her hands are shaking and she’s sure the nug can sense how scared she is because he’s not making any sudden movements; just stands there patiently waiting. She exhales and digs her thighs in and the nug starts a gentle trot. She barely has to do anything with the reins as it makes little circles and walks up and down a tiny stretch of road, occasionally shaking its head and looking back at her.

The Herald had joined Varric as they stood watching her, and she waved at him and sent him a little shaky smile. 

“Look at that. He wouldn’t let any of us on him, and now he’s prancing around like a pony. Look at him showing you off,” Maxwell chuckled as he greeted her.  

This wasn’t so bad, she mused. She relaxed a bit and let the nug wander around until it walked back to the rest of the mounts. She pulled the reins back gently and it stopped completely, dropping belly down so she could slide off easily. 

She was a little unsteady still from the adrenaline rush and nearly fell as her knees buckled. Varric was quickly at her side, wrapping a thick arm around her waist as Maxwell reached a hand out in concern. 

“You good there?”

She nodded and grinned sheepishly, “Just a little shaky. First time rider.” 

Maxwell grimaced with sympathy, “Yes, I remember my first time. I couldn’t sit well for two days.”

Varrics sniggers quietly and she rolls her eyes while Maxwell continues on, oblivious. 

“Make sure you used creams or oils to make it a smoother ride.” 

Varric’s snickers have become outright guffaws and Crystal finds herself giggling when Maxwell stares at them in confusion for a full minute before he finally groans. 

“Varric, you have the sense of humor of a child.” 

The dwarf’s laughter quiets slowly and he shrugs, flashing the Herald a playful grin. 

“Anyway,” Maxwell begins with a sigh, “Since the nug hasn’t let anyone else ride him and it appears he’s decided he likes you, he’s yours,” he nods towards Crystal. 

Her jaw drops and she looks between the Herald and the giant beast. 

“Oh, really, I couldn’t.” 

“Of course you can. I’m giving him to you. He was free, so it’s not like it’s a great burden. And before you can use any other arguments, the Inquisition will handle his basic care needs like food and such. Congratulations.” 

She opened her mouth to retort but with nothing coming to mind her jaw snapped shut. She sighed and flushed. 

“Fine. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. When you get a moment, please join us for a meal and we can discuss the events of the last week and our future plans.” 

With that, Maxwell saluted the two of them and sauntered off, whistling. 

“He’s kind of a brat, isn’t he?” 

Varric snorts, “Yeah, a bit.” 

Crystal sighs and looks at the Battle Nug that is now snuffling into the ground. 

“So now the only thing I actually own in this entire world is a giant pig-rabbit.” 

“Seems like it,” Varric laughs. 

“I’m not as ungrateful as I sound, I promise. Just...overwhelmed, I suppose. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with a great big beast like that. I suppose a plus side is if we meet any bad guys on the road, he can just sit on them and save me from having to fight.” 

Varric shakes his head with a grin and gestures for her to lead the way back to the center of the village where everyone was meeting up. They are both silent for a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“You look nice, by the way.” 

She blushed and really fucking wished any of the clothes here had pockets so she could shove her hands nervously in them like she wanted. 

“Thanks. It’s a miracle what eating every day and using actual soap can do.”

Varric snorts before returning the acknowledging wave of the Herald once they were close enough. 

The party is sitting outside of her hut, of all places. Giles winks at her cheekily as he settles into one of the stools he’d dragged over for them to use and proceeds to dominate the conversation, pelting everyone with questions. She knew it was mostly because he was just a talkative fellow, but also because he knew that she preferred to listen. 

Talking to anyone, especially a big group of intimidating people like this, was incredibly hard for her. Back in her world, she was a certified medication-guzzling socially anxious mess with severe depression. Here in Thedas, she was simply known as shy, which amused her. 

The village was already at work preparing the fresh rams that they had brought back, filling the air with the scent of roasting meat and the sounds of excited villagers. Crystal leans her back against her little hut and wills herself to relax, listening to the now familiar voices of everyone around her. Her fingers itched to sketch the little village, knowing it was her last night here among these people. She’d start with her own little hut, she muses, perhaps at dawn when the sun just begins to color the sky. Maybe one of the children as they sit in rapturous fascination whenever she tells them a story. She’d already drawn one for Thomas of his sweet daughter that he’d lost. He’d cried and thanked her with a fierce hug that brought tears to her own eyes. 

“What do you think, Crystal?”

She straightened quickly as she was jolted out of her thoughts, glancing at Maxwell in confusion. She’d been so out of it, she hadn’t even realized Giles had gone to get them food. 

“Pardon?” 

“We were just discussing our travel plans. It took us a little over four days to get here from Haven, but that was also because we made minimal stops since most of us are used to travel. We were wondering if you would be fine with that or if we should think on factoring inn stops into our plans?” Maxwell explained with a kind smile. 

“Oh, God, no. No need to do anything different for me. I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“It wouldn’t be a bother. Personally, I like to stay on the road as much as possible, because that’s less paperwork I’m forced to do.” Maxwell grinned as the others chuckled lightly. 

“So...if you’re talking about taking me with you, everything went well?” she asked tentatively, still slightly afraid that her very appearance in Thedas might have changed even the small things. 

“Oh, yes. Everything was just where you told us, even the ridiculous Druffalo. The caches of supplies are on their way as we speak. We closed all the rifts except for the one by the river you told us about. Set up very comfortable camps on all the marked spots. Took out the Templar and Mage hideouts. We were all very impressed. Obviously, we haven’t delved into your future knowledge that you say you have yet, but this was enough to know that at the very least you seem to be on our side for now.” 

Crystal released a relieved breath, finally able to release weeks of tension. She’d be in the thick of things, but she’d also be surrounded by those that could protect her the most. 

“Thank you.” 

Maxwell nods, pausing as if to catch his thoughts before asking. 

“You seem like...there’s something specific that you’re wanting protection from. That you believe we can protect you from, specifically. Are you...able to tell me what that is?” 

She chews her lip in thought, trying to figure out what she should say. 

“I’m not sure? Honestly, I don’t think I’m the smartest person, so I’m never quite sure my logic behind what I can and can’t share is sound. I’ll be happy to go over things more once we get to Haven, but I think I can at least tell you we should start stocking up on travel supplies and weapons. Haven doesn’t seem the sort of place that would withstand an attack, does it?” 

They all looked mildly disturbed by that, but Maxwell nodded in thought. She was relieved no one asked her to go into detail, because she wasn’t sure how she would have been able to talk her way out of that. She was afraid if she told them too much, it would create so much change that she wouldn’t recognize the story anymore and be worthless. 

Giles soon brought them bowls of roasted meat and vegetables, and they were all more than happy to change the talk to more pleasant things. Varric and Maxwell both were very nice about asking her questions and trying to draw her into the conversation. Cassandra acted like she wasn’t there most of the time. Crystal knew it was most likely because she still considered her a threat so she tried not to be too hurt by it. Solas seemed as content as her to merely listen to those around him. She was especially glad he paid her no mind. 

“Excuse me, Miss Crystal?” 

She turned towards the shy voice of one of her favorite kids in the village, Malcolm. He was like her little shadow most days, and was always quick to ask for a story or for her to teach him how to draw. 

“Good evening, Mal. Did you need something, buddy?” She asked with a fond smile. 

He shoved one of his hands practically in her face as he handed her what appeared to be a rock. 

“I worked all day doin’ chores for Ma so I could give you this. It’s a heating rune. Cuz you’re gonna be traveling and hate the cold like me. You just press your finger here and it warms up, but it doesn’t hurt or nothin’. So you can keep your tent warm and it works in water too!” 

“Wow, Mal! This is so nice. Thank you!” 

She grins at the blushing boy and means every word. If this thing works like she thinks it should, she can look forward to toasty tents on the road. Damn she hated being cold, especially after these last few weeks with nothing but a thin blanket to warm her. She leans over and hugs him tightly. 

“You’ll remember to keep up with your drawing, right? I expect you to send me a drawing every now and then so I can see your progress. I’ll send you some of whatever I see too, okay?” 

“Kay!” Malcolm grins and runs back to his parents. She smiles at the little rune before tucking it into her pocket. 

“You didn’t mention you had a suitor,” Varric smirks. 

She snorts and plays along. “Oh yes, he’s lovely. He catches me frogs and only wets the bed twice a week. The catch of the ages, really.” 

He huffs a little laugh before turning to the group. 

“Did I ever tell you guys about the time Hawke bought a mine?” 

Crystal grins and leans in to listen, even though it was yet another story that she already knew. The way that Varric told them always made them sound new, however. She could tell the parts he was embellishing heavily and tried to contain her commentary. She was amused by Maxwell’s gasps of surprise and Cassandra’s eye rolls when Varric tried to describe the dragons in terrifying detail. Mostly, she was just happy to be sitting here listening in person. 

Varric was so expressive when he told a story. His hands waved enthusiastically, and his face showed every emotion. He timed everything perfectly to get the reactions he wanted, smirking slightly whenever someone was shocked or appropriately enthralled. She soon discovered that she’d been focusing so much on him that she’d missed most of the story, too entranced by the dwarf himself. 

She needed to get over this fascination with him, and fast. That way lay heartbreak and pain, she was sure of it. 

She yawned loudly, hoping the others would catch on. Thankfully, Maxwell must have been looking at her because he yawned too. 

“I think we should all get some sleep. We have a long few days ahead of us,” he grunted as he stood up and stretched. 

The others murmured their agreements, slowly getting up and putting the stools to the side. 

Giles scratches his belly as he looks them over. 

“We have a couple o’ empty huts that you lot can use. You’d have to squeeze in there, but it would probably be a nice break from tents at least.” 

“I have one extra cot in mine as well, if it’s needed,” Crystal ventured quietly. 

The party spoke amongst themselves and eventually it was decided that Solas and Maxwell would share one hut, Cassandra would take the other as she wanted to bathe in privacy. Of course, this left...

Varric’s smirk as she glanced at him in surprise was gone so fast she could almost believe she imagined it. Everyone wandered towards their assigned places for the night, leaving Varric to open the door for her. 

“After you,” he said softly, standing to the side as she tried to get past him before he could see her blushing. 

Maxwell ran up and threw Varric his pack of supplies before he could enter. He accepted them with a grunt of thanks and shut the door, bringing the wooden bar down to secure it. 

Crystal was practically vibrating she was so nervous. Logically, she knew that nothing was going to happen and that the chances of him being genuinely into her beyond friendly flirting were zilch, but she couldn’t help the rush of anxiety she felt just being in a room alone with him. 

“So, uh, the cots are over here. The one on the right is a little more sturdy since it belonged to the man who owned this place before. I’ll take the smaller one,” she winced as she heard how shaky her voice sounded. She hated that he probably thought she was some freak scared of her own shadow. 

He nods and smiles gently, seeming to pick up on her nervousness. 

“If you wanted to change into your night things, I promise I won’t look if you don’t. I must protect my virtue, after all,” he drawled. She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped over his stupid joke, letting him lighten the tension in the room a little.  

She peeled off her slippers and tucked them away into her bag of supplies. She’d use the more sturdy boots she had for the journey. She snuck a quick peek at Varric, finding him turned all the way around facing the wall as he shucked his own clothes. She nibbled her lip nervously and quickly pulled the dress up and off, leaving the thin white chemise on to sleep in. Unable to help herself, she looked out of the corner of her eye towards the dwarf behind her. 

He’d already torn off his shoes and shirt, leaving him barechested as he struggled with his belt. She inhaled lightly as she watched his back muscles rippling like some damn romance movie hero. She turned away just as quickly, knowing that with his skills he’d probably know if someone was watching him. 

She cleared her throat and instead focused on finishing readying for bed. She went to the little table that she’d turned into a sort of vanity and poured water into a bowl for washing her face and a cup for brushing her teeth. She missed the convenience of running water and tubes of toothpaste, not to mention her creams. This place was drying the hell out of her skin. 

When she was done, she poured everything out and cleaned up the area. 

“There’s still plenty of water left if you need it,” she said softly. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he rumbled, his voice close enough that she figured it was safe to look. 

She wanted to groan out loud and barely stopped herself from doing so. He’d changed into some comfortable looking pants at least, but he’d left his chest bare. Judging by the look on his face, he knew damn well the effect he had on her and did it on purpose. She didn’t even like body hair, but she couldn’t stop staring at him. He’d even pulled his hair from its tie, letting flow freely. It wasn’t that long, just towards the middle of his neck, but it was still such an intimate thing to see, she thought. 

He chuckled as she turned to busy herself, trying to keep her mind on other things besides half naked dwarves that were too handsome for their own good. She set her bags near the door for easy pickup in the morning and started the fire, knowing that the hut would be ice cold in a couple of hours if she didn’t. 

Once it was blazing she stood with her back to it, letting it warm her before she tried to sleep with her one little blanket. The first thing she planned to do once she figured out how to get money here was going to be buying at least five blankets and the stuff to make proper pillows, not the blocks they used here. 

She was swaying slightly with her eyes closed, listening to Varric humming and cleaning himself as she tried to relax enough to get to sleep quickly. She heard the splashing water stop and sounds of a towel being unfurled, then suddenly he growled.  

Her eyes shot open and she stared wide-eyed as Varric’s face turned hard and tense with hunger. His hooded eyes traveled the length of her body, and when she looked down she realized, to her utter horror, that the chemise was so thin that standing in front of the fire had made it damn near see through. She could see everything, and if she could, so could he. She blushed wildly but rushed past him and jumped into her cot, covering herself with her threadbare blanket. 

She could hear him breathing heavily, like he was trying to calm himself. A few moments later he walked over and pulled a blanket from his bag, settling into the cot that was so close to her own she could practically feel his body heat. 

He turned on his right side as he got comfortable, facing her. In a surprising show of bravery, she turned towards him as well. They both lay in silence for a few moments, looking at each other with only the flickering light of the fire, studying and weighing each other. 

She knew he was at least somewhat attracted to her, but she also knew he was probably fighting it because of his loyalty towards Bianca. Though she was sure he messed around at least somewhat, but never seriously and never with feelings. And Crystal, no matter how attracted to him she’d turned out to be, wasn’t the type to do anything casual. She grew attached too easily, was too needy for flings. She had a feeling he could probably tell and that’s why he was able to restrain himself. 

She sighed curled up more into her little blanket, starting to feel a little more tired now that the heat was starting to fill the little hut. The only thing she needed now was Varric’s familiar voice rumbling through the sending crystal. 

“Why did you let me listen?” she suddenly blurts. 

Varric’s soft grin says he was expecting the question sooner or later. 

“I thought it might help. Woman all alone in a strange place, about to travel with a bunch of scary warriors for almost a week. Figured it might help you get to know us a little and at least let you know we weren’t planning on chopping you to bits or feeding you to a dragon.” 

“I was so very worried about the dragon too. Bless you, sir.” 

He chuckles and sends her another little smile. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

Crystal fights her blush and whispers, “Goodnight, Varric.” 

She turned away and faced the wall as she willed herself to sleep, trying not to focus on every little sound he made. It was a very long night. 

[robronsecretvalentine]

Title: I won’t let you close enough to hurt me

For @robertisbisexual from your secret valentine

Summary: There was always that one person. The one you couldn’t forget, that you thought of from time to time and wondered what if, even if they’d hurt you, even if it was impossible.

Aaron and Robert meet again after ten years, but Aaron’s not exactly over the moon to see him again, and he has to deal with the local cafe owner trying to set him up on a blind date.

Teacher AU

There was always that one person. The one you couldn’t forget, that you thought of from time to time and wondered what if, even if they’d hurt you, even if it was impossible …

They’d met at uni, teacher training, and Aaron had found him smug and annoying from day one. That said, he also found him pretty attractive too.

He doesn’t even know what happened but it ended up being just the two of them in the pub one night and one thing led to Aaron’s flat, hands and mouths everywhere. When he woke the next morning, Robert was gone, no note, no text, nothing, and was promptly ignored the next time he saw him. He wasn’t stupid, he got the message loud and clear, at least until a couple of months later when it happened again.

He should’ve walked away, but he didn’t. Things did improve, Robert actually started hanging around and they’d spend time together. It wasn’t serious, they both knew that, but it wasn’t the casual thing either. If Aaron secretly hoped for more, Robert didn’t need to know.

It all changed when term ended, them both going home. Robert said he’d text and see him soon. Aaron had let himself get carried away, wilfully ignoring the fact that Robert had never wanted to tell anyone about them. He hadn’t either, so it hadn’t bothered him at the time.

Still, he didn’t expect Robert to just not come back after Christmas, without a word of explanation from him. He knew he was ok, overheard a couple of his mates talking about sending his stuff on. Maybe he could’ve asked them, but he wanted to hold onto whatever self-respect he still had.

He’d put it behind him, in the end, went back to concentrating on making something of his life, not like he could do anything else. He didn’t forget him though, never really forgave him either even if they hadn’t really been anything at all, and it still hurt, even years later.

So yes there was always that one person that you can’t forget, and you never think you’ll see them again.

Until that day you walk into the staffroom during break on the first day of term to find that person drinking from your coffee mug.

From then on his day just went from bad to worse. Everywhere he turned he was there. The store cupboard, the photocopier, cafeteria, everywhere.

He was just as he remembered, same cocky grin, blond hair just so. He hated that he still had that reaction to him, that he’d spent so long getting over him and now here he was.

Aaron didn’t even know if he remembered him but then he’d not hung around long enough to do anything but mutter a hello.

It was stupid. He was an adult now, well more of an adult, he could be professional.

He could.

He was too, right up until the Head suggested the two of them work together on the school production of Oliver! a few weeks later. All hands on deck he said as the Head of Drama was off sick for who knew how long. Fantastic, just fantastic.

He couldn’t help but stare at him as he sat in the staff room reading through the notes they’d been left, everyone else already left for home.

“Should be a piece of cake.” He announces, dropping the papers on the table in front of him, and picking up his, no Aaron’s mug, again.

“Yeah right. I teach History and you teach Maths. How is this going to be a piece of cake?”

“I took some drama classes at uni.” Aaron looks up to see him smiling, smugly, he might add. “You’re not going to say anything then? No, how are you? Or it’s been a long time?”

“So you do remember me.”

“Whyever would I forget you?” There’s that cocky smile again and he can almost see his nostrils flare at it.

“Managed well enough after you left though I expect.”

“Aaron…”

“So, the show…” He couldn’t do it, now now, had to change the subject. “We should at least try and make some plans tonight.”

“Right. Ok, if that’s what you want.”

“Sure you’re up to it? This place isn’t what you’re used to.”

“Keeping tabs on me?” There’s that smile again. “I expect I’ll manage. I was thinking, Tuesdays and Thursdays after school for rehearsals.”

“I help with the footie team on a Thursday but Tuesday, yeah. Once a week is the usual I think.”

“Right well, we’ll see. I’m guessing that this…” He waves the script around a little, “Isn’t really your thing so, if I handle this maybe you could sort the technical stuff?”

“Fine, whatever.” That suited him just fine. The less time he spent with Robert the better right now. “So what made you come here then?” He settles back into the chair with his borrowed mug while Robert scribbled furiously on the papers in front of him. He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Family mostly. You know, this could be a good opportunity, really show what the school can do.”

“Don’t you think you should stick to the plan? It’s been set for ages and there’s not that long left.”

“Come on Aaron, you used to be a lot more adventurous.” Finally he looks up, eyes sparkling with mischief just like Aaron remembered.

“Somehow that got knocked out of me. Let’s just see what we’ve got to work with before you get any fancy ideas.”

“No harm in being ambitious.”

“You always were. Anyway, is that it? Some of us have homes to go to.” The sooner he got out of here the better.

*****

The next morning he stops off at his favourite cafe not far from the school. He’d found it not long after starting the job, needing a place where he wouldn’t run into any of the kids, knowing he’d be glad of the peace some days. It wasn’t the most trendy of places so he should be safe, but he liked it. It was homely and he always got a good welcome from the owner.

“You’re early today. Usual?” He nods as Sarah smiled at him. It didn’t matter what time he came in she was always smiling, always willing to him complain. “Oh dear, no smile?”

“Nor would you if you had to work with the smug git I have to. Better add a bacon sarnie as well, I’m going to need it.” He didn’t want to get into the details with her, but sometimes you just needed someone to moan to and she was the nearest person he had that he didn’t work with.

“I’m sure he’s not that bad. Everyone has their good side.” Aaron doubted it but he didn’t argue. If anything Robert’s annoying traits had got worse than when he last saw him if the day before had been anything to go by. She listened as he let out his frustrations before handing over his bacon sandwich and coffee. It should see him through the day at least.

“Have a good day love.” Sarah calls as he heads out the door.

The first thing he sees is a notice on the board at the entrance informing pupils that rehearsals for Oliver! would be on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Great. Well he’d just have to manage on his own, the footie team came first.

He manages to avoid Robert the rest of the day although there are numerous emails in his inbox full of ideas and instructions which he’s ignoring, and he’s packing up his stuff for home when Tracy collars him in the staff room ready to gossip on the way out. Of course Robert is still the hot topic and he’s not in the mood. He’s all anyone has talked about for days.

“Don’t you have better things to do than gossip about him?” He asks her when she’s rabbited on for a good five minutes.

“Sure you don’t just secretly fancy him?” He snaps his head up at that to see her grinning at him.

“What? No!” He wonders if she knows somehow, but no, it’s just Tracy being Tracy.

“I’m just saying…besides he’s a good looking bloke. Maybe you should try getting to know him. Might change your opinion.”

“No ta. It’s bad enough I’ve got to spend time with him doing this show. Besides even if I did fancy him, which I don’t, what difference would it make?”

“He might like you.” He just shook his head, she was relentless. “He’s always staring at you when you’re not looking.”

“He’s married.” It wasn’t that which bothered him, it just made him wonder what he’d been to him back then. Had he meant anything at all. He didn’t even know why he was indulging her but he liked Tracy, she was fun to be around.

Everyone knew the rumours, that Robert had left his last school, one of the best performing in the country, under a cloud. Aaron had heard the gossip in the staff room, that he’d cheated on his wife with her sister. Not normally a reason to leave a job, but when your father-in-law was one of the main benefactors of the school he guessed you were left with little choice.

“Might be worth finding out. The two of you together…quite a picture.” He hopes his face doesn’t react, the last thing he needs is her knowing, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“You’re a nightmare, do you know that?”

“That’s why you love me. Think about it.”

“Goodbye Tracy.” She must be mad. That ship had long sailed, he didn’t feel anything for him now except annoyance.

*****

“You look tired. Rough day?” Sarah greets him with her usual smile when he reaches the counter. He usually only calls in for breakfast on his way to school, but after the rehearsal he needs a hit of sugar.

The kids were in their element, all of them talented in their own way, but they’d realised pretty early on that neither he nor Robert had that much idea of what they were doing. He probably shouldn’t be so amused at Robert all but tearing his hair out as they ran riot. He’d stepped in in the end, all of them knowing him well enough not to answer back.

“This school show is doing my head in. It was all sorted and now he is just changing everything and the kids are being menaces because of it.” She’d heard all about his annoyance with Robert, had listened patiently. It was like having his Mum around. He missed her, being so far away and not seeing her as much as he liked, so it was nice having someone just to listen. He had no idea why she put up with him but she did and he was grateful. “Sorry, you don’t want to hear this.”

“I don’t mind love. Keeps me entertained.”

“Still…”

“You know what you need, don’t you?” She tells him as he hands over the money for his order. “Take your mind off it all.”

“No.” He grins as he says it, the game almost routine by now. “I don’t need setting up, even if I did want a date.”

“You shouldn’t be on your own, a lad your age. You should be out having fun, not spending your time chatting to me.”

“I like chatting to you. Besides, when do I have time to date? I’ve got hours of marking ahead of me when I get home, and that’s without this bloody show.”

“All I’m saying is…”

“Does your son know you’re trying to arrange his dates for him?” She’d been at it for weeks now, trying to set them up. Aaron had never met him but Sarah was relentless.

“That boy doesn’t know what’s good for him. Anyway he’s only just moved back here, doesn’t know anyone. I’m just being helpful.”

“Yes I’m sure that’s what he’d say if he knew. Anyway I’m off.”

“See you tomorrow love.”

*****

“So, what do you think?” Robert asks him halfway through their first rehearsal.

“They don’t sound bad.” It had taken Robert a good fifteen minutes to announce all the changes he’s made to the script and timetable and Aaron had to bite his lip when he heard the murmurings of discontent from the kids. “You’re not makin’ yourself popular with all these changes you know.”

“I’m not here to be popular.”

“Never would’ve guessed. Don’t blame me if they start acting up, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Ok, so tell me wise one, what am I doing wrong?”

“Thursdays are football, like I told you. We’re not really famed for much but we’ve got one of the best teams in the county and you’re dragging two of the best players away right when they’re needed most. Not to mention me.”

“They need more rehearsal.” He couldn’t help wince as one of them hit a bad note.

“You’ll get more out of them if you compromise. Trust me.” He’d heard grumbles before today in his classes about the ‘stuck up new teacher’ and various other things, and the one thing he knew was if they were against you, you didn’t get anywhere.

The petty part of him felt like letting Robert flounder but he was meant to be an adult.

“I…” He turns as the song finishes. “Ok, that was good. Before you go, I’ve realised that perhaps Wednesdays would be better for second rehearsal than Thursdays. Mr Dingle tells me the football team is quite something. Is that right?” A resounding yes sounds around the hall and he sends them on their way with a smile. “Better?”

“It’s a start.”

“Aaron, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing. Just…you can’t just waltz in here and act like you do.”

“Right, and that’s the only reason you’re acting like this is it?”

“What other reason could there possibly be?” He starts stacking the chairs away so he doesn’t have to face him.

“Aaron…”

“Just leave it Robert.” He doesn’t give him chance to say anything, just grabs his stuff and leaves, angry at himself for letting it get to him.

“Aaron, wait!” The corridor is empty when he grabs him and spins him round. Aaron shakes off his arm angrily, glaring at him. “Are you…we can’t work like this. Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Are you so oblivious that you don’t know?”

“Is this about us?”

“Wait a minute, I’ll go see if there’s any gold stars lurking in the cupboard.”

“I…it was years ago.”

“Yeah, and I was over it until you showed up.” He sighs, “Do you have any idea how it felt? You just didn’t come back. If I hadn’t heard those mates of yours talking, I could’ve thought anything.”

“It was just…we were kids pretty much.”

“You mean I was just convenient.”

“No. You knew exactly what it was, I never hid that.”

“Yeah, I did. Didn’t stop me from…you know what never mind.”

“You felt something for me?” He actually sounds shocked and Aaron’s almost relieved that he hadn’t actually known back then and still left.

“Just proves I’m the stupid one doesn’t it? Forget it Robert, just forget it.” He doesn’t give him chance to answer, just walks away. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut?

*****

“What’s up today then? Can’t be work, you’ve not been in yet.” Sarah asks as he hands over the money for his breakfast a week later.

“Oh no, I don’t need to. He’s taken to phoning me about it now. Ten o’clock last night he’s on at me, arranging extra rehearsal for tonight, because clearly he doesn’t have a life, so no one else can either.” It wasn’t just that, ever since he’d spoken to Tracy he couldn’t get Robert off his mind, wondering if she was right, and deep down he did like him.

What would be the point anyway, even if he did. Robert was still married, although by all accounts not for much longer, and at uni…well he was sure Robert was straight, there was no use in going down that road.

“You had plans?”

“That’s not the point. He’s got everyone eating out of the palm of his hand.”

“So what’s he like then? Why don’t you like him?” The cafe is nearly empty he’s in so early so she sits down opposite him with a sigh.

“He just doesn’t listen to anyone. His ideas are the best and that’s it. I don’t even know why I’m even needed, he doesn’t listen to anything I say. I’m just there for all the heavy lifting. Just because he’s from some la-di-da school.”

“He could be nervous. You know, new school and all that.”

“I doubt he even knows the meaning of the word nerves. Never has.”

“Oh. There’s a story there. Come on, I’ve got a few minutes before the rush.” She rounds the counter and sits down and he rolls his eyes but sits and starts talking.

“So now he’s back.” He says after he’s filled her in. “And I don’t know, I’m just feeling everything from back then again and I’d rather not.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should. He might feel the same.”

“He walked away before, besides he’s still married. Maybe I never meant anything at all. I’m not giving him the chance to hurt me all over again.”

“Time changes things. Sounds to me like neither of you talk enough. Besides, you have to work together, might be worth trying.”

“Only on this show…after that we won’t need to have anything to do with each other.” Not entirely true, but their paths would barely cross given how different the subjects they taught were. Then again why does part of him ache at the thought of it?

“Still, you’ll never know if you never talk. Maybe he’s just putting up a front. Take my son for instance, he won’t ever tell you what’s wrong. Oh the times I’ve had to tell him that it’s alright to let people in. So stubborn that boy.”

“Yet you want me to go on a date with him?”

“Oh that’s different. You’d like him, I know it.” He thinks for a minute as she deals with another customer. What would be the harm really, maybe it would stop him thinking about Robert for five minutes, get him out of his head again.

“Fine. One date.” A night out never did anyone any harm did it? “I’m free Friday if it’s any good.”

*****

By the time Friday rolls around he’s strangely nervous. It’s ridiculous really because he was only doing this to make Sarah happy after all.

They’re meeting at a restaurant, one he’s not been to before. He turns up far too early, despite spending way too long wondering what to wear.

When his date is ten minutes late he blames the traffic, when it’s twenty minutes he’s starting to get annoyed and by the time half an hour has ticked by he’s fuming. He’s had enough of sitting alone, obviously having been stood up, so he leaves.

He considers going round to the cafe on his way home but it’ll be closed, and besides it wasn’t Sarah’s fault if her son was a jerk and it wouldn’t be fair to take the anger out on her. No, he’ll go home and have a beer.

Monday dawns and he wishes he could stay in bed because the day is bad enough without everything else. He heads to the cafe first.

“I’m sorry.” She tells him as soon as he sees her.

“It’s my fault. I had a fall and he had to take me to the hospital.”

“Are you alright?” He wasn’t entirely sure he believed her.

“Oh yes, just my ankle.” She points down and he leans over the counter to see it bandaged.” By the time I was let home it was too late and I hadn’t got your number. Not very good at this blind date arranging lark am I?”

“Your technique could use some work. Sure he just didn’t want to go out with me?”

“Of course he does. How about you try again?” He really wasn’t sure he wanted to bother but he couldn’t think of a decent enough excuse.

“I’ve got this show and…maybe after that.” Maybe by then he’d have Robert out of his head and got over his embarrassment at being stood up.

“Oh that’s weeks away. All work and no play and all that.”

“Still think it’s weird, arranging a date via his Mum, but…fine.” He didn’t have anything to lose did he. “This Friday?”

“Perfect. Why not meet him here, makes it easier?”

“You could just take my number.” He frowned, meeting him here could be awkward especially if he didn’t like him.

“I’ll do that too. Go on, meet him here, then I can see my handiwork.”

“You’re relentless. Does he know how lucky he is to have you?”

“I’ll make sure to tell him.” She hands over his usual order. “Have a good day love.”

“Try not to fall over any more won’t you?”

“Ha ha. See you tomorrow.”

*****

“Aaron!” He keeps walking, ignoring Robert’s call along the corridor, ducking into the store cupboard, the pile of books he’s carrying more precarious by the second.  It’s been three days since his failed date and he’s still annoyed, even though they’re trying again his mood hasn’t improved. He manages to wedge the door open with the chair left there for just that purpose. He hears Robert’s footsteps behind him but carries on, ignoring him. He just wants to get done and go home and get ready. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Yeah.” He turns round just in time to see the door closing. “Don’t!”

“What?”

“You idiot! There’s a reason the door is propped open when someone is in here. Now we’re locked in. Fantastic.”

“Well how was I to know?” He rattles the door handle over and over. “Why hasn’t it been fixed?”

“The same reason the heating craps out every five minutes. Not that you’d know about that. Don’t suppose that fancy school you’ve come from had that trouble did it?”

“Don’t have a go at me. So, we’re stuck here then.”

“Have you got your phone?” He’d left his on his desk, only expecting to be two minutes. Thankfully Robert hands it over.

“Is anyone even here?”

“Tracy doesn’t live that far.” Thankfully he remembers her number. “Tracy? I need your help. I’m stuck in the South block book cupboard and I need you to come and let me out. What?…of course I know not to shut the door, but Robert didn’t…yes he’s here…shut up!”

“Is she coming or not?” Robert grumbles beside him and he waves at him to shut him up.

“Tracy, just get over here and let us out will you, I’ve got somewhere to be…no, not a date, not after last time. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow…thank you.” He hands the phone back with a sigh. “She’s at the shops but she’ll be here soon.” He didn’t believe a word of it, had heard her laughing at the thought of him and Robert being stuck in a room together. “This is just what I need.”

“Hardly a picnic for me either.” He sighs and sits down on the floor in front of the bookshelves. “What did you mean not a date, not after last time?”

“Why do you care?”

“Just trying to start a conversation as we’re stuck here.”

“It’s not important. What possessed you to move the chair?”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Well, no, you didn’t actually.”

“Fine, I’m sorry. Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

“What?”

“Us. We have to work together.” He looks over, Robert seems so earnest he wants to laugh.

“What is there to say? You made it perfectly clear where you stood ten years ago.”

“Go on, we’re stuck here, you might as well carry on.”

“You just left, without a word. Didn’t come back. Maybe I was just…what?…an experiment? Whatever it was, I deserved better.”

“That’s…it wasn’t like that.”

“Never mind, forget it.”

“No, no, you started it.”

“You picked me up and dropped me whenever you felt like it. Then you just leave. How do you think that made me feel?”

“You’ve got me all wrong. Did it ever…you know nothing.”

“So tell me.”

“Would it make a difference? You seem to have made your mind up.”

“You made it pretty easy to do that. Were you ashamed of me? What? No one knew, you hid it all. So what was it? What don’t I understand? What did I get wrong?”

They sit in silence for what seems like ages, Robert saying nothing. He wishes Tracy would hurry up, but he had a feeling she’d take a while, from her voice it seemed like she it as an opportunity for them to get closer.

“I grew up on a farm, did you know that?”

“What?”

“I’m not some posh idiot, like everyone thinks. I went to this school back when it was Hotten Comp, had all these dreams about jobs in computers, anything to get away from the farm. My Dad, he didn’t believe I needed an education, I’d be taking over the farm like he had.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m…you wanted to understand.” He wasn’t used to this Robert, hesitant, quiet. It made him shift so he’s facing him properly.

“Alright, so what happened? Why didn’t you take over the farm?”

“My Mum. She was a librarian when she met my Dad. She encouraged me to learn, to want better.”

“So…the suits and general attitude, where did that come from?” It was clear he wasn’t comfortable talking, so he tried to lighten the mood a little.

“There’s nothing wrong with looking smart Aaron.” He smiles, and Aaron thinks it’s the first genuine one he’s seen from him, ever. It seems to make his eyes brighter and he mentally shakes himself. No use going down that road.

“Are you saying I look like a scruff?” He probably did to be fair, at the end of a long day his tie was gone and his shirt collar loose. He didn’t look anything like Robert who kept himself neat as a pin all day. It was weird if you asked him.

“I think a better word is comfortable.”

“Idiot. So go on, why the suits?”

“I like them.” Aaron just glares at him. “Alright, they started as a way to impress Chrissie. My wife.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. He must know he’s the subject of gossip, but that didn’t mean Aaron was going to let on.

“It’s alright, I know everyone’s been talking. Yes, I did cheat on her, and yes that’s why I left…part of the reason anyway. We were already over by then, that was just the final nail in the coffin.”

“When did you meet her?” He knew, somehow he knew.

“After, not when we were…I swear.” Aaron nods. “I switched courses, went to Leeds instead.”

“That desperate to get away from me?”

“What? No. I should’ve called you or something.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“My Dad always said I could never be satisfied with what I had. Guess he was right.”

“Sounds like a bit of a prat if you ask me.”

“You don’t mince your words do you? No, he just…I wasn’t the son he wanted, no matter how hard I tried to impress him. Some things are too big to get past I guess.”

“I still don’t get what that has to do with me.”

“Do you…I’m just…you’re gay, right?”

“You know I am.”

“I didn’t want to be…I mean I’m not…fuck…”

“Robert, just take a breath.” He was beginning to get an inkling of what was wrong.

“I’m bisexual…no one here knows. My Mum and sister are the only ones who know.” He’s staring down at his hands as if he can’t bear to look at Aaron.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No. You’re right, you do deserve an explanation.” He takes a deep breath. “When I left, that Christmas. I was coming back I swear.��

“So why didn’t you?”

“My Dad. He died.” Aaron didn’t know what to say to that, just muttered a sorry which Robert waved away. “I had to sort everything, look after Mum, my sister.”

“Must’ve been a lot. I would’ve helped, if you’d let me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t explain why you never…we never did anything with anyone else, never went out, hung with our mates, not together.”

“I know. I said…about my Dad, well he knew, he caught me with a lad when I was fifteen.” He didn’t need to elaborate, Aaron could work it out easy enough.

“Robert…”

“Mum had left, when I was fourteen, took my sister, wanted to take me but he wouldn’t let her because I wasn’t hers, not legally. I hated him for that. Then he caught me…I was nearly sixteen, so I ran away to Mum. He didn’t care anymore, didn’t want a son like me.”

“And your Mum?”

“She told me it didn’t matter, whoever I liked, and when I got it, that I was bi, she told me it was ok to like both.”

“She sounds pretty amazing.”

“Doesn’t get rid of him, what he thought.” He laughs harshly. “All the stuff he said is still there.”

“So me and you?”

“You weren’t the first lad…sorry…but every time, I’d hear him, all of it and I s’pose part of me still wanted to make him proud of me.”

“What he thought, he was wrong.”

“I know that now, probably did then too, but I couldn’t deal with it, what I felt about you, so I hid it and when he died and I went home, I…buried it. I had to stay, look after stuff, and then I met Chrissie. I know I’m awful but I thought…it’d make him proud, and I did love her…until I messed it up.”

“And now?”

“Now…I understand myself better. I know that it’s ok to be me.”

“That’s good.” Robert looks at him. “I struggled too, coming out, I do get it.”

“Yeah?”

“I really struggled. It took my…Paddy, my step Dad pretty much, it took him a long time to make me see it was ok.”

“You were lucky to have him.”

“Yeah. I miss him. He and my Mum, they’re still in Manchester, it’s not far but I don’t see them as much as I should. Mum and I…we don’t always see eye to eye, sometimes it’s easier, a bit of distance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t treat you very well. Probably doesn’t mean much anymore but I am.”

“Doesn’t matter.” It did hurt, but at least he understood it better now.

“I’ve never really talked to anyone about it before. Mum and my sister but…”

“You can talk to me. I’m not saying I’m not still mad, but it’s in the past, right?”

“So, we’ve talked about me all night. What about you? What made you go into teaching?”

“Dunno, the usual.” He tips his head back against the bookshelf. “I s’pose I thought…”

“What?”

“I didn’t have anyone growing up. Mum left when I was little and my Dad…well the less said about him the better. I drifted through school, constantly in trouble. If I’d just had someone who encouraged me, who believed I was more than just a useless kid…”

“Well from what I hear most of the kids think you’re the bee’s knees. So you must be doing something right…what changed? When you were a kid?”

“Paddy. Again. I went to live with Mum and they were goin’ out even though she was no good for him back then and I’d hang out at the vet’s surgery with him all the time and he’d talk to me, like he really cared you know? Got through to me enough that I knuckled down and got the grades I needed.”

“Thank God for Paddy huh?” Aaron laughs.

“So, you got any tips for getting people on side here? Now I’m not the devil?”

“Drop the attitude…we’re all pretty easygoing. Especially Tracy. Make friends with her and you’re sorted.”

“She’s interesting.” Aaron burst out laughing.

“She is that. She reckons me and you make a pretty picture.” Robert looks up, eyes wide. “She was joking, she doesn’t know anything. She was winding me up when I was complaining about you being a smug git.”

Robert’s quiet for a bit, and then he looks up with a grin. “Want to play her at her own game?”

“What?”

“We’ll hear her coming down the corridor, we could always give her a preview of that picture she’s got in her head.” “Are you winding me up?”

“Only if you want. I’m not trying to…Just a bit of fun, if you think she’ll get the joke.” He doesn’t answer straight away. “Never mind, stupid idea.”

“No, it’s…it’ll be a laugh. No one else here is there?” It would be fun to wind Tracy up.

They don’t say much else, the odd thought about the show but not much else. It’s nice really, just enjoying the quiet. He doesn’t even know what the time is. Eventually they hear the telltale sound of Tracy’s heels on the floor getting closer, memories flooding back to him after all this time, and then Robert’s turning to him, hand on his jaw, getting closer and closer until the door flies open and Tracy all but shrieks.

Robert does a great impression of being caught out, all those drama classes Aaron thinks, but Aaron can’t move, cursing Tracy and Robert equally, because he realises he hadn’t wanted Robert to stop.

“What’s all this then?”

“You  took your time!” Robert tells her, smirking as he gets to his feet.

“Looks like you managed to pass the time.”

“Yes well, I have a home to go to. Aaron?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, see you tomorrow then.” Is that disappointment he can feel blooming in his chest. What had he expected? It was a wind up for Tracy, that was all. Just because they’d talked, didn’t mean a thing. It was just memories getting to him, that’s all.

When he’s gone Tracy grabs his arm dragging him down the corridor.

“See I was right!”

“Don’t be daft.”

“If I’d been a couple of minutes later, you would’ve been a lot more undressed that’s all I’m saying.”

“We were just talking.” When they round the corner, Robert’s waiting outside his classroom. He could do without that right now.

“Yeah, just talking.”

“See you tomorrow Tracy.” He tells her, ignoring the gleeful look on her face. He was never going to get any peace now. “Thought you were going.” He says when she’s gone.

“Yeah, I…I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I? Back there, winding Tracy up?”

“No, course not. I’m never going to hear the end of it now though.” He picks up his phone and his jacket. “We’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Good, cos I feel like we can get on find now, yeah? Despite everything?”

“Yeah, course. I should go.” He says when Robert doesn’t attempt to move.

“Oh! Yeah. See you tomorrow then.” He attempts a strange half wave as he leaves and Aaron just watches until he’s out of sight, unable to make himself move.

He walked home, head all over the place. He felt a bit better now he’d explained everything. It wasn’t him, not really and he felt for Robert, he really did. It still hurt though. Trouble was, he was still attracted to him. He couldn’t deny that Robert was even more attractive, well actually he was bloody gorgeous these days. That didn’t change the fact that it was a bad idea to even go any further down that road. He’d been here before, with Robert, with others, dating someone he worked with and it had ended in disaster. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go there again.

He laughed at himself, what was he doing? He didn’t even have the first idea whether Robert felt the same way.

At least he had the weekend to sort himself out before he saw Robert again. He could kill Tracy for putting the idea out there, for waiting so long to let them out of the cupboard because when Robert had leaned in pretending to kiss him, he hadn’t wanted him to stop.

*****

Robert’s not in the staffroom when he gets in the next day and he’s relieved. He suffers the teasing from Tracy and a couple of others before heading to his classroom. Year 8 holds no promise of a peaceful morning though, like he wants before the extra rehearsal at lunch.

“Are you alright?” Robert asks him as the kids run through the finale. “You’re quiet.”

“Hmm? Yeah I’m fine.”

“Good…I, you’re sure I didn’t…on Friday. You weren’t offended?”

“No, course not. I told you.”

“Because it meant a lot talking to you like that, getting to explain.”

“Yeah. Well, anytime.”

“Mates then?” Before he can answer there’s the sounds of a scuffle backstage.

“Sir! Harry won’t stop pushing me!”

“Christ!” Robert mutters as he gets up. “Harry, are you six years old or something? Pack it in or you’ll be staying behind today. Right, go through it again.” He glances back at Aaron with a grin.

Yeah, he’s screwed.

He does the only thing he can do, he avoids Robert, only seeing him at rehearsals, and he doesn’t cancel the date, no matter how much he wants to. There’s no point going there again, however much he’d explained. The past was the past.

*****

Friday comes and this time he leaves right after school, taking no chances, even though he wouldn’t be  going if it weren’t for Sarah. Despite staying away he’d done nothing but think about Robert all week.

Sarah’s alone when he reaches the cafe, sat at one of the tables with a cup of tea. “You made it then, no locked cupboards getting in the way?” He’d told her about getting locked in and she’d all but collapsed with laughter.

“Very funny! No ankles?”

“I promise! He won’t be long, just looking at my electrics upstairs. Sit yourself down.” She chatters a mile a minute while they wait and then he hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Mum, I can’t find anything wrong, you’ll have to call an…oh.” He stops in the doorway, still rolling down his sleeves, while Aaron just stares at him. “Aaron, what are you doing here?”

“Turns out I’m your date. How convenient.”

“I…Mum what have you done?”

He ignores him, instead turning to Sarah. “Been having a good laugh behind my back, have you?”

“No love.” He shakes his head and pushes his chair back, the scraping noise filling the room.  

“I suppose you had a great laugh didn’t you? What was last week? All part of the plan to get me onside?” He could barely speak he was so angry.

“Aaron…” Robert steps towards him and he backs away. “Aaron, wait!”

“I thought…I really thought you were being nice” He looks back at Sarah, “All the time I was talking to you about him, you…you didn’t tell me who he was! I suppose she knows everything?” He turns back to Robert. “All of it?” Robert’s just stood there speechless.

“Love, I didn’t know…” He can’t stay any longer, just turns and leaves, hurrying away so neither of them can follow. He can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

*****

The weekend drags by, his phone lighting up with texts from Robert, full of apologies but he ignores them. He can’t even pinpoint what he feels. Humiliation, disappointment, anger, or all three.

Under any other circumstances he would’ve jumped at the chance to go out with him again, despite everything he’s said about not going there, but the thought of them talking about him, plotting this whole thing was too much. He didn’t like being manipulated and this felt like that.

Sarah saying she didn’t know comes to mind, but how could she not? It made no sense.

No, he was done. He just had to get through the week’s performances of the show and then he could have nothing more to do with Robert Sugden.

*****

The week doesn’t go too badly considering. He avoids the cafe, and Robert, staying behind the scenes in the hall when he can as they run through the show one more time, sending instructions or messages via the kids under the guise of needing to keep working on the props and set.

“Amy, tell Mr Sugden we’re ready now, please.” She’s looking at him funny and he sets down the paintbrush he’s holding. “What is it?”

“Harry says you and Mr Sugden have fallen out. Have you?” Amy was one of his form, usually wouldn’t say boo to a goose, so what’s prompted this flash of confidence he’s not sure.

“No. Of course we haven’t. Anyway Harry should be concentrating on his singing, not anything else. He spies the other lad out of the corner of his eye and glares him making him scarper. “Take no notice of him.”

He sighs when she’s gone, he misses Robert, the quick easy banter they’d developed was now gone. That was that though, nothing he could do about it, not now.

*****

“You nervous?” Robert steps up beside him the afternoon of the first performance, as he potters about in his room. There’s no point going home just to come straight back.

“No.”

“Aaron, come on, this is stupid.” He cuts him off.

“No, what’s stupid is me, trusting you again. Do you have any idea how I feel? How I felt back then? I get it, I do, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I loved you!”

“You…you loved me?” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Just get out Robert!”

“Aaron we can sort this out.”

“No we can’t.”

“The show, we have to work together.”

“I can be civil for one more night. After that we don’t have to talk to each other.”

“Aaron, please!”

“No. I’m done, Robert. Just go.” He doesn’t look up until he’s gone and when he does Tracy is stood in the doorway.

��Well, well, well.”

“Not now Tracy. Whatever you heard, just forget it, ok?”

“I didn’t hear much, but he sounded pretty cut up.”

“He’s good at that.”

“Right. Come on, we’re getting out of here. You can tell me what’s wrong.” He has no choice but the follow as she grabs his arm and at least Robert won’t know where he is.

She drags him to the pub down the road, buys him a coke and sits across from him. “Was going to be something stronger, but best not. So come on, spill.”

So he does, all of it, minus what Robert told him about his Dad, and she’s gripped. He’s never known her so quiet.

“So now you get it.”

“Not really.”

“Tracy come on.”

“Way I see it, he wants you, you clearly want him, so why not go for it?”

“Did you not hear what I said?”

“Did you? He told you he had all the intentions of coming back, and yeah he didn’t call but…he’s been pining after you since he turned up here.”

“But, the date.”

“Well that was his Mum, and you know what Mum’s are like. If he had known why wouldn’t he have admitted it. Look you’ve told me about your Mum, you don’t think she’d do the same?” Well he couldn’t deny that, half their rows were about her interfering in his life.

“I don’t know.” He was just so afraid of being hurt he couldn’t do it.

“Look, you can stay as you are, miserable and alone, or you can take a chance on what I can only say is a very fine looking man, who clearly likes you. Take a risk Aaron, you’ll never know if you don’t.”

“Maybe.”

“Just think about it.” She finishes her drink. “Come on, we need to get back.”

“Tracy? Thanks.”

He manages to avoid Robert when he gets back, until nearly everyone is inside when he feels someone beside him. Sarah. Robert’s nearby looking annoyed but he ignores him.

“I can’t do this now.”

“Let me explain, Aaron, please.” She sounds upset and despite it all he does like her. He looks at his watch, they have a few minutes so he nods, leads her to his room along the corridor.

“Whatever you say won’t make a difference. I don’t like being made a fool of.”

“Neither of us were doing that. I promise you. Robert knew nothing. He didn’t even know who I was setting him up with.”

“You did though. You let me complain about him, over and over. What was that?”

“I didn’t know either not until the day you told me about the cupboard. You never mentioned his name, and he doesn’t talk about work, only told me about that because it made him late for dinner with me and his sister. When I realised…” She stops.

“What?”

“I…all I want is for him to be happy. He’s been through a lot, and he lets so few people get close to him. I thought you’d be good for him. Well, it’s not my place to tell you all that, but I knew about you, not that it was you, when he told me about the boy at uni. When I realised I knew I had to do something.”

“So why not tell me, or him, rather than ambush us?”

“Because…he told me you weren’t interested, and what you’d said…I had to try though. I’ve let him down before and I really thought it would work out for the best.”

“That didn’t work out too well then did it?”

“No, well…I just wanted you to know that Robert wasn’t any part of it. Everything he told you…he wasn’t playing games. I’m the one at fault here, not him.”

“Ok. I…I need to get back.” He wasn’t ready to forgive her, not yet. “Thanks for explaining.”

Robert’s waiting when they get back to the hall, hands on hips, glaring at his Mum, and if he wasn’t still so hurt he’d probably laugh at the pair of them. He walks past them heading backstage when Robert grabs his arm.

“I didn’t put her up to that. I’m so angry at her.”

“She cares I guess.”

“That’s not the point!”

“It doesn’t matter any more does it?”

“Aaron…”

“I can’t Robert. He didn’t even know why, because he could tell Sarah had told him the truth, but his self preservation had kicked in. He’d been hurt too many times by different people and it wasn’t going to happen again. “I just can’t.”

He gets through the rest of the evening well enough and the kids are brilliant. He stands by Robert taking in the praise from the Head with a smile, before losing sight of Robert as the kids descend on them both.

When the hall is clear of everyone but a few teachers he collects up some of the equipment to take back to the cupboard before he goes home.

“Aaron, can we talk?”

“No.” He turns round to see Robert in the doorway. “I’m done talking. I know it wasn’t your fault but…it made me realise it wouldn’t work. I’ve been hurt by you once too often.”

“You don’t know that. We’ve never given it a proper chance.”

“Why was that? Look I know, and I get it like I said, but it hurt Robert and it still does. I can’t go there again.” He feels stupid, being this way over a fling at uni, it shouldn’t affect him this much after so much time but he can’t help it.

“It won’t be like that, not this time. We’re different. I’m different.”

“Maybe I’m not. Just stop it Robert.” He tries pushing past him but Robert stands his ground. “You’re out of luck if you’re going to lock us in again. They fixed the lock last week. Was that part of the game?”

“What? No! There wasn’t a game, just my mother who likes to meddle in my love life. That night meant a lot. You listened to me, really listened. Probably not by choice I know, but no one has ever really done that before.”

“Still doesn’t make what she did right.”

“No. But she is right about one thing. I do like you, I always did.”

“I liked you too, was going to go on that date and let him down gently even though I didn’t think I had a chance with you.”

“Then what’s stopping us?”

“I don’t like being manipulated. It’s happened too many times before.”

“It won’t, not this time. Just give me, us a chance.”

He looks so disheartened and Aaron wants to leave but something stops him. Deep down, he wants him. Maybe this once he should take a chance.

“You won’t leave again?”

“I promise.”

“You’re still married.”

“Not by choice. Trust me, give it a try, that’s all I ask.”

He steps forward slowly until he’s right in front of Robert. Maybe he should take a risk for once.

“No hiding?”

“No hiding.”

Robert’s grinning but he realises he’ll have to take the initiative, leaning in to kiss him, hands clutching at his arms as he backs him up towards the wall.

Eventually Robert breaks away, grinning. “Well that’s an improvement on the last time we were in here.”

“Probably inappropriate though…no locked door.” He’s grinning down at him, that lopsided grin of his that had always been in Aaron’s dreams.

“We could always take it somewhere more appropriate.” He grins cheekily. “Yours or mine?”

[goodnightkisseu]

Park Jihoon - Giftwrap

Genre: Fluff

Note: It’s time for another post from me for the 12 days of Christmas with Wanna One collab! I’m doing this series with Chelle over at @prettywordsyouleft and with Kim at @nothingwithoutwannaone! I hope that you all have been enjoying the wonderful pieces that Chelle and Kim have written over these last couple of days!

Today is my last piece for the series, and it’s for Jihoon! I hope that you guys enjoy this one! It was a lot of fun to write :3 Please look forward to the remaining posts by Chelle and Kim! I know they’re going to be wonderful~ And as always, please feel free to let me know what you think ^^ 

Enjoy~

- goodnightkisseu’s admin / ashley <3

Christmas was a time for togetherness. It was a time to spend with family and loved ones, to meet up with those that you hadn’t seen throughout the entire year and catch up. It was a time of travel, whether it be home or to a vacation spot somewhere much warmer. For different people, Christmas meant different things. For you, This Christmas was about being stuck in the city in the middle of a huge snowstorm with no way out. You had plans to fly out and see family a couple of days ago, but when this huge storm hit it completely grounded you and some others as well. Still, there was some silver lining to being stuck in the city for the holidays. At least you would get to spend it with Jihoon.

Much like you, Jihoon was also snowed in for the holiday season. The two of you had originally settled on doing a little post-holiday couple’s outing when you got back from your respective trips. Yet, with this heavy storm that had blown in, you both found yourselves unable to get to your destinations. So instead of spending your holidays alone, especially during a time of year that was about being together, you moved your post-Christmas couple’s outing to now. You were currently at Jihoon’s place with a small bag that you had packed just lounging around in his apartment while he went to work. The office where you worked as a secretary had completely closed down due to the unpredictable weather, but Jihoon’s was still going, and he found himself working overtime now that people couldn’t come in.

You weren’t just lounging around his apartment on your own of course. You had the company of his dog, Max, who had grown quite fond of you over the last year. You knew that you weren’t his favorite person, that title either belonged to Jihoon or his friend, Woojin, you weren’t sure. However, Max still enjoyed spending time with you, mostly because you gave him the most amazing belly rubs and would also slip him some extra kibble from time to time. The easiest way to a dog’s heart, honestly.

Though you had to admit that you would often find yourself bored throughout the day, not having Jihoon here today was proving to be a blessing. It gave you time to put up some of the Christmas decorations in the way that you wanted, particularly the three cute stockings that you had bought to put on the mantle. Jihoon thought they were silly, but seeing as he wasn’t home, there was no one to stop you. Honestly, it didn’t look that bad, to begin with, so you couldn’t understand why he had complained about it so much.

Having him out of the house was also useful because there was one thing you had forgotten to do before you ended up camping out at Jihoon’s place for the week. You had forgotten to wrap his present, and you felt like now was a good a time as any to do so. After all, today was his last day of work and after this, he would be home until Christmas. You would have little free time to yourself and there was no way you could quietly wrap it while he was sleeping, and so, you took your alone time to your advantage and started to wrap the gift in its shiny new home.

This was your second Christmas together. Your first one had been as friends that met through Woojin. You had a hard time shopping for Jihoon then too, as he was the type of person that would buy the things that he wanted if he really wanted them. This year as a couple, even though you felt like you knew him better, shopping for him was still hard. There were certain things that you knew that Jihoon needed, but they didn’t necessarily make great Christmas gifts. After all, ‘honey I got you a frying pan’ wasn’t exactly the most romantic thing. Practical, sure, but romantic? Far from it.

You did eventually find the perfect gift in a pretty roundabout way. When you had first started dating, Jihoon, when telling you about his hobbies, had talked about one of his all-time favorite games. He told you that it was the reason he wanted to become a programmer in the first place, and why he was working so hard now, trying to find the career that fit him. That conversation had always been in the back of your mind, but you never truly knew what to do with that information… until about a month ago. You had reconnected with one of your old high school friends who had told of this artist that made wonderful decals for game consoles. They were custom, beautiful, a bit pricey, and also took time to put onto the console.

So, you lied to Jihoon, in the name of a good Christmas present and asked to borrow his console to play a game that you had been anticipating. It was there for about three weeks while you worked with the artist on the design before you sent it off for the finished decal to be applied, and it was only a couple days ago that you got it back. Granted, this of course coincided with a couple of days in which you had started your stay with Jihoon, so it was a bit hard to get the console from your place, bring it back here, and hide it. You managed it all, somehow and now all you had to do was wrap it up. An easy afternoon task, right?

Wrong.

See, at home, in your quiet and quaint little apartment, this would have been an hour, maybe two-hour task if you were feeling fancy. But here, at Jihoon’s it took almost four hours and counting. And why? The answer was simple. Max. Jihoon’s dog was incredibly curious, so when you laid down the shiny blue wrapping paper, his little puppy was already sniffing it, trying to figure out what it was. He got himself onto the paper a couple of times which only led you to shoo him away or to manually move him off of the beautiful wrapping paper on your own. You had contemplated locking yourself in the bedroom at one point, just to get those quality hours to finish wrapping up his gift. However, every time you left the room, Max would start to whine, wondering why you wouldn’t play with him. So in the end, you couldn’t do that, but now you were struggling with the small pup, trying to get things done while simultaneously taking care of him.

“Max, no stop,” you said in an exasperated tone as he managed to push his paw through some of the wrapping paper that had unraveled itself. You were glad that he hadn’t eaten the paper just yet, and in hoped to prevent it, you got up and grabbed his leash, putting it on him and slipping it around one of the chairs. It was just far enough that he couldn’t get into the paper and other wrapping supplies that could have been dangerous for him. Yet it was also close enough that you could reach over and give him pets, just so that he knew that you hadn’t forgotten him for something so shiny and exclusive.

You were just getting the hang of your new arrangement when the sudden sound of the door snapped you out of your trance. Jihoon was home already? But he was supposed to be at work for another two hours! Why was he back so early?

At the moment you couldn’t help but look around in utter panic. There was no way that you could have cleaned all of this up, hid it in a safe place, without him noticing that something was out of place. He was going to find out no matter what you did and you weren’t too sure of the best cause of action. As your brain tried to run through every single, your body just kind of froze. And just like that, before you came to any type of plan, the familiar footsteps of your boyfriend grew closer, and you had nowhere to go…

“Jagi, can you believe that I got home early today? There were so few of us in today that we couldn’t even really work. Like all of the people that we could have possibly had questions for were either unavailable or already gone on their vacations. Pretty wild, huh?” he asked as he rounded the corner to the living room. Yet when his eyes fell upon the scene before him, he really wasn’t too sure what he was seeing. He saw Max first, the small dog with his leash handle under one of the dining room table chair legs. Jihoon didn’t question that. Overall it was pretty typical for the two of you to do that because you would want Max to have enough room to play, but not let him loose so that he could run around and destroy everything.

His eye next fell upon all of the new Christmas decorations that hadn’t been there before he left for work. There were a couple of things that had been added to the tree, though Jihoon wouldn’t have been able to point out what they were even if he wanted to. He noticed the stockings that he had vetoed set up on the mantle all ready for Santa to come and drop off some things. And finally, his eyes landed on you and the small mess that you had gotten yourself into. In front of you was wrapping paper that you were trying to get around a rather large looking present. Momentarily, he was curious about what that could have been, though, instead of asking, he just kept it to himself.

“Did I walk into something I wasn’t supposed to?”

At Jihoon’s words, you seemed to find your movement again. It felt too late to really deny what you were doing. After all, it was pretty clear as day. So instead of going through the trouble of lying to Jihoon, you decided to be truthful about it. “Technically, yeah, but it’s okay,” you said with a defeated sigh, your boyfriend finding his way over to your side. He seated himself next to you as Max happily ran to him, leading Jihoon to pull the dog onto his lap.

He didn’t say anything, in true Jihoon fashion so you continued. “Your present finally arrived so I was trying to wrap it up before you got home… but you arrived early,” you said with a small pout. You looked over at him, hand reaching out to scratch Max behind the ear and all Jihoon did was chuckle.

“Why didn’t you just go and wrap up the present in the bedroom? Looks like Max gave you a bit of trouble,” he replied, eyes seeing small little holes in the wrapping paper here and there, which he concluded was the work of his little puppy.

“I thought about it, but whenever I disappeared, he got really anxious, and I didn’t want to leave him alone…” you admitted.

You were too cute for your own good. Jihoon might not have been there, but he could already see the torn look on your face when Max started whining and you were considering just staying out in the living room. Why was everyone in his life so cute? He really was blessed.

��Well then, why don’t you continue up and I’ll take care of Max. I’m curious about what you got me, but I think I can wait a few more days,” he said with a chuckle.

But at that moment, you didn’t really feel the need to finish the gift wrapping. Jihoon had already seen the large box, and if anything, you wanted him to see what was inside instead of wondering for the next few days. Opening the present early was okay, right? “No, it’s okay. I want you to open it now. We can do Christmas presents early, right? I mean, it’s not wrapped, but… the idea is still there.”

“Jagi, we don’t have to. Just wrap it up and we can wait a few more days.”

You shook your head in response. “Naw, I want you to open it,” you said with a smile, reaching over for Max so that Jihoon could pull the large box towards him. 

He slowly opened the box up, pulling out all of the wrapping paper before he saw what was inside. It was a console that he already owned, yet, that was when he realized the design on it. That familiar character. Those familiar emblems. This wasn’t a console that they had made. Jihoon had been keeping an eye on all of the limiteds and this was not one of them. “How…” he said slowly, his brain still trying to process it all.

A small smile crossed your lips. “I know how much you love this game, so I got a custom decal made for you. Part of the reason why I had to borrow your console. I mean, I was really playing that game, but also, I needed to send it off to get this attached,” you said with a giggle. “Do you like it?” you asked sheepishly. At the moment it had seemed like a great gift, but now that it was in front of him, you couldn’t tell.

Jihoon was in awe of it, at how nice and professional it looked. And in particular, his heart swelled up at your gesture. He knew that he talked about this particular game a bit much, that it could have gotten annoying, and yet, you listened to him each time. You got him a thoughtful gift and he was beyond grateful. “I love it,” he told you, gently leaning over and giving you a kiss on the cheek. “It’s the best, thanks, jagi!”

Your smile grew at how well-received it was. You were glad that he was happy with it, and that was all you could really ask for. “So, do I get my present now too?” you inquired jokingly, but all Jihoon did was shake his head.

“Naw, you have to wait until Christmas,” he replied cheekily, making your eyes widened. His look changed in that instance to a cheeky one and you couldn’t help but make a face at him.

“Ya, Park Jihoon,” you started, but before you could finish, he was on his feet and running out of the room, you quickly behind him, trying to chase down your boyfriend for your present. You knew he had it hidden somewhere.

It wasn’t always great when plans were ruined, trips were canceled, but getting to spend the holidays together also wasn’t so bad…