#but in college they haven’t actually gotten together because. well. they can pine after each other and have many Almost moments but… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ktheist · 5 years ago

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nice guys finish last | m

synopsis. you thought you were over yoongi’s dick move of ending your engagement through his parents - not even a text when he disappeared out of your life. that’s why you agreed to the newly arranged marriage with his brother, namjoon, but on the brink of your wedding day, it becomes apparent that you haven’t really let go of the past as you tear up in front of your soon-to-be husband at the back room of the church.

◟alternatively, “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

pairings. husband!ceo!namjoon x doctor!reader x ex-fiance!producer!yoongi

genre. arraged marriage au. angst. fluff. smut.

word. 16.2k

content: age gap factor (namjoon is 5 years older than oc and yoongi is 7 years older than oc). pining. teasing. hoseok cockblocking.

warning(s): heavy adult content. mentions of cheating. hospital scenes.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

“i don’t want to marry you at all. the person i love is someone else.” there are tears brimming in your eyes but if there’s anything the years of etiquette class namjoon’s parents forced on him taught him - he’d say he turned out okay - it’s to not mention to the crying lady that she’s crying. but he can’t help stare a little longer. admire a little too much.

the rays flooding through the window paired with the prettiest ivory dress he’s seen you in gives you an iridescent halo. you look like an angel descended from the top most heavens.

but not for him.

“i know,” he lets out a drawn out sigh, hand on his neck. he’s always been the awkward one between the two. if it was him - if it was his brother, he would say it without any ounce of self-reproach. but then again what does namjoon have to be sorry for? for being born? for being the second choice son to step into his brother’s shoes when the aforementioned man threatened to disown the family name if their parents refused to let him marry a girl of his choice who, according to the workers’ gossip, ‘he suddenly woke up one day and decided he was in love with’?

“it’s yoongi, isn’t it? you love yoongi.”

your eyes are prettier when you’re looking directly at him. the tears give them a kind of glow that makes him want to gather you into his arms and keep you there. the flushed cheeks affirms - despite saying it with full confidence, it was just - his hunch.

oh.

the ceremony proceeds rather smoothly. you’re still sniffling when your father passes your hand to him at the end of the aisle. the older man himself looks distraught. either he knows you’re against this marriage and hates himself for failing to put his daughter’s happiness before the guaranteed wealth that comes from marrying you off to the kim family or you’d gotten into a fight with him in a last ditch attempt to convince him to call off the marriage.

either way, you’re here now. the pastor’s words are muddled in your ears but it’s enough to take note of the end tone and the steely silence that ensues which could only mean it’s your turn to say those words.

“i do.” they’re the easiest to get over with.

after endless fights with your parents, going on two hunger strikes and running away to paris for a year - you know you’re in the endgame. and you’ve painstakingly and sorely lost.

he lifts the veil off your face, taking his time with setting it over your head. it’s no secret that kim namjoon is handsome. the kind of thick, textured-fabric-suit-wearing and sleek-back hair kind of handsome. yoongi was more of the hoodie-and-jeans and messy-in-need-of-a-trim hair kind of handsome. but he isn’t yoongi.

you screw your eyes shut, refusing to let the memories of your own wedding vows embed in your head. those beautiful pink full lips are as soft as they look. but they’re not kissing you on your pressed-into-a-straight-line lips. betrayed by your curiosity, your eyes flutter open only to gaze upon the smooth cream skin that wraps around his neck and just the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple as he pulls way.

your newly-wed husband has just kissed you on the forehead.

adjusting to married life is as easy as slipping on your favorite shoes. it’s perfect. almost unsettling even. the beach house off the coast of the private island namjoon’s family owns is breathtaking. the sound of waves crashing against the shores is your constant companion as you work on your research. it’s a project you had to put aside when you graduated. the first year at the hospital is the busiest, or so your senior colleagues say.

namjoon strides into the kitchen sometime past noon, all fresh and showered with a fitting long sleeved shirt and trousers. it’s the most dressed down you’ve ever seen and yet for some people you know, it’s the fanciest they can get. sometimes you wonder if the standards have hit the ground or if namjoon’s so well-adapted into the routine of dressing up presentable enough to go to his office on an off day in case something calls for it.

“good morning.” you greet first, traces of the embarrassing tear-jerking wedding ceremony still lingers in the back of your mind - you’d tried to explain yourself on the way here in the boat but namjoon had easily blew your worries away with a light chuckle and a “i’d do the same too if i loved someone and had to marry another person.”

it’s not unusual for you to already be perched on the elegant gold sofa adjacent to the sliding doors that has the best view of the sea. the master bedroom is the other part of the beach house with spectacular view - you’d been entranced when you stepped into the room on your first day. but namjoon suggested you stay in the guest room, knowing there’s no way you would share a bed with him -

“or you can take this room and i take the guest room,” he added a moment later, probably because he saw you staring out the balcony, bewitched by the sea. that had broke you from your trance and you’d shook your head so much in protest, you were surprised it didn’t fall right off your neck. “n-no! i mean - i’ll take the guestroom.”

his parents had been nice enough to lend their private beach house for you honeymoon. you weren’t going to step over their son and conquer the master bedroom - even if technically, you’re now part of the family.

“morning.” he fixes you with that half-smile. the kind of smile you give to someone you’re in an complacent relationship with but nothing more.

at least you’ve got that going for you. and that’s a rarity coming from the gossips you’ve heard here and there about marriages found on the ground of convenience.

his eyes swipe over the ipad in your shorts-donned lap from his spot, leaned against the counter in the kitchen, pitch black mug of coffee with wafts of smoke coming out of it, “how’s your research going?”

“well,” you set the ipad down on the glass surface of the coffee table, it’s bare of anything besides your phone that’s been lighting up from the notifications. one from your mother, another from the group of friends you found in college, and the rest is from your strictly-women group from the hospital, “the world wide web is resourceful and all but it can’t beat the information in actual books - papers, you know?”

“ah, the traditional way of researching.” he chuckles, dimples digging into his cheek, enhancing his handsome features. you never knew he had dimples. not that you knew much about him - you’d only properly talked on the day of your wedding, in the back room and the first thing you said was -

you suppress the memories further down your thoughts. it works for the most part, but you can’t help the flush that spreads across your face. so the laugh you let out is a little strained and if he notices, he doesn’t show - like he pretends not to notice a plenty many things.

but alas, he knew your secret crush - was it still just a crush you had for yoongi? you’re not sure.

“what can i say? i’m raised traditional.”

that was two weeks ago. now, you’re back to working your ass off at the hospital, being grilled to the bones by your supervisor, getting reprimanded over being one minute late and then being told to run to the cafe five minutes from the hospital to buy your supervisors their favorite strawberry smoothie topped with sprinkles.

“kim seokjin, that dickwad.” jennie huffs, her cat-like eyes making it appear as though she’s plotting the man’s death. “he’s working you to the bones as soon as you get back.”

“he probably thinks i’m not that serious about my residency since my family has enough fortune to sustain me for my whole lifetime,” you can only laugh at that, her anger has sucked all the tiredness and annoyance you have for your supervisor right out of you. it feels refreshing, “all the more reason to prove him wrong.”

“enough about that asshole,” jisoo waves a dismissive hand off and you know what’s coming is far more terrifying: she blinks, eyes filled with stars and cherry red lips curling into the kind of smile that can only mean one thing, “how was it? the second son of kimcorp. were there rose petals on bed? candles lit around the house? a romantic, sizzling-”

“sorry, jisoo, i gotta go get ready for the dinner. i’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, okay?” you clasp your hands together apologetically when your phone buzzes with the reminder you set a week prior: 8am annual kimcorp dinner.

you breathe a sigh of relief as you shake off your white coat, draping it over your recliner before escaping to the washroom with a bag of makeup and the dust-proof cover bag of the outfit you’re wearing for tonight. by the time you’re touching up on your nude lipstick, your phone buzzes again but this time, the screen lights up with namjoon’s name on it.

“hey,” his voice is deeper through the phone - it’s the first time he calls you. there was never any reason for you to call each other but you suppose, he’s calling to make sure you’re not forgetting the dinner -

“i’m in front of the hospital.”

or maybe not.

“wh-what do you mean?” your cheeks heat up from the thought of namjoon waiting for you in his audi. the image, too domestic for your liking.

“well, you can’t drive so i thought i’d pick you up.” he says it like its the simplest equation to understand.

“namjoon,” the name feels foreign on your tongue regardless of how many times you taste it when you need to tell him something - to set the line straight, “i didn’t know you were gonna pick me up so i already told kyungsoo to pick me up. he’s probably already here. sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

“i know,” he says simply.

“e-excuse me?” while you’re beyond confused.

“i told your parents i’d pick you up so kyungsoo’s driving them to the dinner.”

“oh.”

wait. what?!

namjoon is confident in his driving skills - as he is with everything he does. he’s almost perfect. the line of his shoulders seem at ease as he stirs the wheel with one hand and the other rests on the gear, inches away from your scarlet clad thighs.

“why isn’t hoseok driving you?” the aforementioned man sticks to him like glue. everywhere namjoon goes, he goes. it’s a given since he’s the head secretary but anyone who’s seen them interact could tell there’s more than boss-employee relationship between them. they seem like close friends which is unlikely be given namjoon’s too-serious nature and hoseok’s joke-cracking every five minutes - but not impossible.

his face remains the same as he keeps his eyes on the road, humming briefly, “he had a thing.”

“can secretaries have a thing and leave their boss to drive for himself like that?” that doesn’t sound right. you may not be actively involved in fecam industries’ affairs but mr. jung, your dad’s secretary, spends more time with your dad than the two men do with their wives - that’s how demanding the business world is. but could hoseok get a free pass because of his and namjoon’s friendship?

namjoon chuckles, dimples and all and you can’t help but blush at the side profile. if anything, he has a sharp jawline and beautiful neck-

you push the thought as soon as it comes. neck? who finds necks beautiful?

“he had a date but it’s not until a couple hours,” the tone he uses is light and playful but underlined with a sort of bashfulness that you don’t know kim namjoon was capable of, “i told him to go home because i wanted to pick you up myself.”

your cheeks heat up all over again as you stare at him a little too long. so much so, the hand that’s been comfortably perched on the gear goes to the back of his neck in an unsure manner.

“i just needed to talk to you about something.” he explains, just as awkward as he was in the back room at the church.

“okay.” eyes turned to the road too, you can see namjoon breathing a sigh of relief from your periphery. that couldn’t have been because of you could it? was he nervous because you were watching him? “what did you want to talk about?”

he clears his throat, that natural ease in his tone returning, “if it gets uncomfortable - if anyone asks, we met because you were yoongi’s fiancee and we couldn’t help but fall in love. but you wanted to intern at a hospital in paris so that’s why we’ve only gotten married now.”

you take awhile to digest the information until something in your stomach doesn’t sit right with you, “you want me to... lie?”

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth just for the briefest moment as he thinks about it. he probably didn’t expect you to disagree but he admits his mistake faster than half the people you know your whole life would, “i’m sorry, i didn’t think it would weight on your conscience. i was thought it’d be hard on you if some ass- someone’s going to start a rumor about you but i didn’t ask how you’d feel about it.”

“i see.” you simply nod. it’s true that you’re the pass-up fiancee who got between two people who fell in love in college but the other is the son of a renown family and engaged while the other is an arts major from a normal working family. unable to let bygones be bygones, you decide to marry the younger brother to your fiance - or so the story goes. “but they already know i was yoongi’s fiancee and i ended up marrying you. i don’t need - no, i don’t want to explain myself to anyone.”

despite that big talk, your can feel the prickle of tears in your eyes. namjoon steals a glance at you and he never mentions the glassiness of your gaze - if anything, he smiles. it’s different than the usual smiles. this one, though wordless, says he’s following your flow. do what you like and if and when things get though, you can count on me.

dinner has yet started when you arrived. guests are still arriving and waiters and waitresses are carrying trays of champagne glasses around. in a distance, your friends wave at you to come over. you smile, hand falling away from namjoon’s since you needed to at least do that in front of the paparazzo that were waiting outside. eager, hungry for gossip about the wedding that shook south korea’s business world.

“girl, you are glowing.” yerin literally screams. it’s a secret to no one that she’s hinting on your recent marriage and private island getaway. but nothing happened.

“how are you girls? it’s been so long.” you side hug eunha, letting her arms wrap around your waist as you stand huddled together.

you haven’t seen them since you got back from paris. the wedding was attended by thousands of people - all of whom, your and namjoon’s family’s associates. but you had your hands full shaking hands and smiling next to your husband because these people matter to namjoon. or at least he has an interest over them. business deals. merges. trades. kimcorps carries out every kinds of business they can get their hands on. namjoon passingly mentioned about the work-in-progress for a private hospital.

you dread the likelihood of having to leave the hospital you’re working in right now for family-run one but you know it’s quite impossible to not get involved when you, yourself is a doctor.

“we weren’t the ones who went under the radar and came back and got married to the second son of kimcorp.” yuju huffs sulkily, cheeks pinked from the champagne she’s had but she isn’t that far gone when she clamps her mouth shut a second later, eyebrows furrowing in guilt.

sowon nudges her side anyway, mouthing her something as your gaze falls on the light caught in your black gucci heels.

“i-i’m sorry, ___ that didn’t come out right.” comes a heartbeat later, she sounds just as sorry as her words as you offer her a small smile.

“it’s okay, it’s the truth anyway.”

“stop that,” eunha suddenly gripes, her gaze boring into you and rips apart the barrier you’ve tried so hard to maintain, “we’ve been friends since elementary school, we know how whipped you are for that asshole so-” she sniffles while you’re left wondering if it’s her who had an ex-fiance break if off and had his parents relay the news on a bi-weekly dinner.

“she’s trying to say you can cry or get mad or curse that dipshit around us. don’t hold back.” sowon finishes, lips twitching as she enjoys watching the vulnerable state of the otherwise fiercest one among you.

something in your chest feels light. like a weight being lifted off your shoulders as you study the girl’s face one by one. sowon’s and yerin’s smirk, yuju’s nodding and eunha’s teary eyes.

“yoongi, he’s-” you take a deep breath and it feels almost dramatic as the second stretches on while you build up the hurt, the anxiousness, the disbelief that the man put you through, “-a fucking idiot.”

“you bet he is,” yerin’s basically screams, swiping a glass for you and holding hers up, “that fucking idiot.”

you tighten your side hug on eunha in an ‘i’m okay’ gesture as you clink your glasses together.

it’s a few moments later that murmurs start to spread around. the tension that comes with the latest arrived guest thick enough to command every attention in the room.

“she’s ballsy. coming here.” sowon offhandedly comments, eyes trained on the girl who has her hand on yoongi’s arm like an iron clamp. “right into the lion’s den.”

she may not have her parents’ money to groom her into the women you and the girls are. but maybe that’s why she has her own air. her poised steps, coupled with a cocktail creme laced dress and relaxed smile easily gives her an innocent cloak. someone friendly and good-tempered and can adjust well to her suddenly-plunged-into-money circumstance when she married yoongi. that must have been why you never heard any bad rumors about her even though there’s almost always at least one gossip enthusiast in these socials.

“ugh, i hate her!” yuju hisses, eyes more focused as she places her glass onto one of the waiter’s trays.

“i-i think i’m going to get myself some snacks.” with that, you slip past the guests until you’re at the end of the room, standing in front of the everything-you-can-eat table lined up with pastries only from the best bakes.

that moment, when you looked from her to yoongi, your eyes met. his hair is a little longer than you remember it, flowing in light blue tresses until just a few centimeters above his eyebrows. the first two buttons of his shirt is undone. her doesn’t wear a necktie - he despises how suffocating they feel. but he’s managed to keep on his blazer - he used to say they were hot and took them off and left them in the back seat of the car when you arrived at an event. he used to attend these events with you. just the two of you. for four years. you thought you’d keep doing so for longer after you got married.

“you know, they’re not plastic and made for display.” a voice breaks you from your train of thoughts.

“p-pardon?” you blink once. confused.

“the pastries,” namjoon lulls his head to the side where towers of tarts, macaroons, pavlova and sliced cakes stand tall and proud, “they’re edible.”

it takes a moment for you to register that he was joking - kim namjoon? cracking jokes?

his smile tilts higher when you chuckle. it’s brief but the look of relief oh his face lingers. he must have seen you escape from your group of friends. and this is his own way of checking up on you.

“thank you, namjoon.” you murmur low enough for only you and him to hear, lips tugging in the corners. “but i’m fine - i just - seeing him for the first time like this - it’s just unexpected. even though this is an annual dinner held by his family and he has every right to be here.”

“that’s her? the ex-fiancee?” a guest asks in a hushed tone somewhere a few feet away. but she’s not very discreet as she thinks she is.

“yeah, she couldn’t get the older brother so she went for the younger one.”

apparently, her company needs to attend classes on how-to-whisper-101 too.

“how mortifying. and the brother just goes with it?”

“he must have felt compelled to save her face. you know how nice and well-mannered he is-”

the low noise namjoon makes under his breath catches your attention. the muscles on his face is strained and twisted. it barely shows. just a crease between his eyebrows and the lack of smile. he hardly ever smiles from the tabloids and interviews you’ve seen of him so people might not notice the displeasure. but after a whole month of knowing namjoon, if there’s anything you can say for certain about the man, it’s the stockpile of smiles he has to offer.

“namjoon, it’s okay. i don’t care.” you smile, it’s forced and you know he notices it right off the bat but sighs anyway, shoulder line falling just slightly as he runs a hand over his sleek styled hair.

his lips move and you hear the words he uttered but somehow your mind couldn’t comprehend the information without going blank. “s-sorry?”

“it agitates me that they’re freely spewing bullshit like this,” he huffs, cheeks tinted pink at having to repeat his words. “it’s taking everything in me not to go over there and tell them their husbands have at least one business deal with kimcorp. and i can end it and it’d plunge their family into bankruptcy.”

“wh-why would you do such a thing?” the question comes out almost dumbly but if it did, he doesn’t say. he just... keeps looking at you.

you’re barely able hold yourself from squirming under his scrutiny, the smile now awkward in all places.

“if you don’t mind, can i kiss you?” his eyes widen just the slightest bit as he corrects himself, “on the forehead i mean.”

he clears his throat, eyes straying away from you as if he couldn’t bear to look at your face after that mistake. “just so i can prove to them i wasn’t forced to marry you.”

the light pinkish blush spreads to the tip of his ears and neck as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. you’re not sure why, but the sight in front of you is endearing and you find yourself saying-

“okay, kiss me.”

you didn’t specify where. and maybe, as the heat flares across your own cheeks when his arm band around your waist and a warm hand presses up against you cheekbone - maybe you want him to kiss you somewhere else.

the chatter stops and so does time. but it’s only for as long as namjoon’s full lips are on your forehead, kissing you for the second time. then, time resumes and murmurs begin to spread louder than when yoongi made his arrival. when the gravelly voice speaks from somewhere behind namjoon, you know why.

“get a room, will you?” yoongi’s tone is light - you’d taken a whole year getting used to it to know he’s being playful and not condescending.

“yoongi.” namjoon greets, unlike the elder man, his sounds better natured but there’s a sort of underlying detachment. his arm is still on your lower back almost as if he needs to feel that you’re here or he’d be completely detached. “i didn’t think you’d show up. you hate these events.”

the aforementioned man draws out a long sigh as though he’s been found out over a poorly told lie. “i don’t but naeun wanted to go - you know how things are with mom and dad. she thinks it’s gonna make them open up.”

it’s no secret your father and mother-in-law doesn’t talk about yoongi’s marriage - they never do around you but you thought they were being considerate. but what yoongi’s saying right now could mean his relationship with his parents are far more strained than you thought it’d be. especially since they had let him marry the girl of his dreams who’s clearly below their standards.

she - naeun - is standing somewhere near the exit, conversing with the notorious older generation that yerin duped ‘the wickeds’. for their ways of gaining wealth, for their poor treatment towards their employees, for socially shunning a young man - new money, for addressing one of them casually. she is��ballsy.

“it’s been awhile,” yoongi’s directly addressing you now. the tug on his lips as playful as an old friend’s greeting. you don’t know how he can look at you like nothing happened. “you’re finally a resident now, huh?”

“yeah, finally.” you smile, the kind of smile that celebrates her triumph. the celebration part is true but the smile is every bit unnatural. but it seems to fool yoongi as he nods, proud.

somewhere in your chest, the strings on your heart clenches at the unchanging personality of this man. no wonder you like him.

before the conversation can tread further down memory lane, there’s an announcement to have the guests move to another room where dinner is being served.

“we’ll get going first then.” namjoon announces, guiding you by the waist as yoongi nods, waiting for naeun to come to his side before going in himself.

dinner went smoother than expected. yoongi and naeun showed up uninvited and were placed in the back seats where the people socially displaced guests are. you felt bad when you saw naeun’s distorted expression as waiters bring in chairs to the table for the both of them. but there’s nothing you could have done.

“you have an 8am shift tomorrow, right?” namjoon asks as you slip your heels off, wincing at when one of them brushes against the blisters. they’re gonna be a bitch to deal with tomorrow.

stretching your arms out as you walk up the stairs, you hum in confirmation. “mhm, and you have dinner with ms. yoo, right?”

it’s ironic how you know each other’s schedule despite not being anything more than two people sharing one house and happens to be married. guess you’ll chalk it up with the fact that you both respect each other enough to be aware of each other’s whereabouts - not the creepy kind of way but the share-me-your-live-location-so-i-know-you’re-safe kind of way.

namjoon was quiet until you take a left to where the guest bedroom-turned-permanent-bedroom is, “it got rescheduled.”

your hand hovers over the door handle as you crane your neck to look at the man on the top of the stairs. his bow tie is loosened, the button to his color undone and his blazer is draped over one arm - a telltale sign of a final end to the night. “i was hoping we could have dinner to together. after work.”

yes but you don’t usually go straight home after work. you usually spend time at the library either at your previous college or at the hospital. you’ve decided to continue your research no matter how taxing it may be since you came back from the honeymoon. namjoon knows and the fact he asks you to dinner anyway - it’s unlike him.

he’s the kind of person that would ask if you had free time and match his schedule to yours. not ask for your time.

“yeah, sure.” you say and you think you see his shoulder line sagging as if he’s just let out a long-held breath, “pick me up at 8?”

“yeah.” he nods, dimples showing as his lips curl at your answer, “at 8.”

only when the door closes behind you, do you let yourself slide down to the ground. heels lying next to your thighs and dress in need of being sent for washing. your cheeks are and neck and ears are hot. dinner? just you and namjoon? like... a date?

jisoo isn’t around when lunch rolls by.

“a patient got rolled into er this morning - couldn’t contact any of his family members. suho decided to go ahead with surgery but he reacted badly to the anesthesia so she had to make up for her suho’s mistake and monitor his patient.” jennie’s face scrunches at the other woman’s supervisor pushing the task on her. shoving a forkful of the cheese cake, she sighs as the medical professional side take over, “thank god the surgery went smoothly though despite all that.”

you hum in contemplation, comparing the well-established crazy bitch seokjin who pushes those under his supervision to their limits and suho’s less-than-extreme approach. you used to envy jisoo and jennie for getting suho as their supervisor but at the end of the day, with every push from seokjin, you get out of it stronger and wiser. “i hope she doesn’t forget to have her meals.”

the day ends faster than usual. of course with rounds and surgeries you have to assist with, you’ve always find yourself barely realizing the setting sun - the sign of that your shift has ended.

but you could have sworn it was 5pm when you last checked the time. an car crash patient had arrived at the er and you forgot you’d left your phone on your desk, running out to assist the critical patient. it’s only when you’ve plopped into your recliner, head thrown back in fatigue, do you notice the vibration of your phone.

namjoon’s name flashes across your screen. your eyes almost bulges out of their sockets as you swipe to the right.

the deep voice from the other end is as calm as ever, “hey, ___-”

“namjoon!” you almost scream with guilt, phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you shrug the coat off one shoulder before using the free now free hand to hold the phone and shrug off the other shoulder, “where are you?”

“i’m at the parking lot. i couldn’t wait at the lobby because i was obstructing the other cars - i called you a few times.” he sounds almost concerned and your heart clenches tightly in you chest at the thought of him waiting for you for over an hour.

you burst onto the parking lot - searching for the sleek black audi until a red bugatti rolls over. you’re about to take a step back seeing as you’re almost standing in the middle of the road - when the driver on the other side of the car steps out. his usually gelled hair is mussed from the amount of times he ran his hand over it, cuffs rolled to just below his elbow, revealing the dark veins that run just below the skin on his arm.

namjoon fixes you with that eased smile, going around the gently purring vehicle and opening the door to the passenger seat for you. the arm which hand he uses to hold the door open pulls on the thin fabric of his button down in all the right places. so this is a the normal end-of-the-day look.

you always get back a bit later than him and by the time he looks up from his work that’s laid out over the coffee table, he would usually already have bathed and changed into one of those long-sleeved shirts.

the restaurant he initially booked for dinner had cancelled. naturally. so you end up in a barbecue place five minutes away from the hospital. this is where you and your colleagues go when to celebrate a birthday, promotion or finally-having-a-boyfriend/girlfriend.

the slices of meat sizzles on the grill, its marinated aroma wafting in the air. but your stomach churns with a different kind of sensation - guilt. “i-i’m sorry. because of me you had to wait an hour and got cancelled by the restaurant.”

then, he chuckles. it’s the same kind of good natured chuckle that reverberates every time you say something amusing - but you can’t see how any of this is.

his says your name. the syllabus rolls out of his tongue in waves but you chalk up the blush spreading on your face with the heat of the grill so close to you. he leans back against the backrest, sleeves filled out to the brim as he crosses his arms over his chest. “you were the one saving a life. all i did was wait.”

“y-yeah but still.” no emergency is foreseeable, otherwise you could have saved more lives than you do now. and it’s still not enough. “i forgot about you.”

namjoon nods, taking your words into consideration - as if he never thought about it that way. as if he truly doesn’t mind wasting his time over some woman he has to tolerate because he’s married to her. “cook me dinner then.”

“wh-what?”

“i don’t want you to beat yourself up and i know whatever i say is going to come off as me being nice.” the corners in his lips tugs upwards, “so make it to me by cooking dinner.”

once your brain is done registering what he said, you clutch your hands in your lap as though you’re clinging onto this one time chance to make up for your fault, “yes! i-i mean yeah, sounds fair.”

the smooth sound of his chuckle isn’t lost to the sizzle of the meat. to him, it must be a small matter but to you, it’s a matter of pride.

“this saturday then?” you offer, a bit too eager.

almost as if remembering something, he releases a long drawn out sigh, “business trip to tokyo.”

“next weekend?”

“mom’s home sweeter home fundraiser for the orphans on saturday. sunday?”

“night shift. how bout breakfast?”

“golf with seollyu’s director.”

a heavy pause lapses in the room. after a moment, namjoon reaches for the chopsticks, flipping the slices of meat over.

your shoulders sag, lips pursed in a pout. this isn’t an unusual occurrence in your years of being the daughter of your family. your father is devoutly involved in the family business and your mother is busy with her charity work. you’ve celebrated birthdays with the staff more than you do with them.

the glint of the chopstick that’s placing a piece of meat on your plate catches your eyes. you study the long nimble fingers to the vein that runs from the back of its hand and disappear somewhere below his arm before you gulp, meeting his eyes - did he notice you checking out his arm?

“we’ll figure something out.” if he did, he doesn’t say as he fixes you with an assuring smile, “but right now you need to get some food in you. eat up dr. ___. you did great today at work.”

this time, you really can’t blame the grill for the blush.

“you could’ve told mom you couldn’t do brunch.” namjoon tells you in the elevator to the 15th floor of your in-laws’ house. it’s been three days since that night. he’s left for work but prior to this morning, he’d already made it clear that it was no problem at all picking you up from home.

he’s probably saying this because of the lack of makeup you’d put on. some pats of compact powder and bright red lipstick can’t hide the bags underneath those tired eyes. you’d spend extra hours reading about the defective genes and the fix to remodel them so every child born from parents from a history of relatives with inheritable diseases could live a life without the risk of said disease.

“i’m fine.” you wave a dismissive hand before stretching in the compact space in a last ditch attempt to wake yourself up and hopefully look fresher by the time you reach the floor. “’sides, i’ve been so focused on work, it’s nice to see mom and dad every once in awhile.”

you’ve gotten used to referring to mr. and mrs. kim as if they’re your own parents - in a way, they are. you’ve known them for as long as you can remember.

“you have to be at the hospital by noon, right?”

you hum in confirmation. though you insisted on grabbing a cab to the hospital since it’s on the opposite side of the office, namjoon had insisted better. “mhm, oh we’re here.”

a ding! echoes throughout the elevator when it stops, doors opening to a hallway with black and yellow walls and ceiling, paired with honey marble flooring. it takes a few seconds before the black door at the end of the hallway to swing open but instead of the warm smile of the elderly lady, a bring and vibrant naeun beams at the both of you.

“you’re here. come in.” she steps aside, the hem of her sundress fluttering as she moves.

your body tenses at the proximity of the woman who you thought you could avoid until a much later time. and from the barely noticeable lifted brows that namjoon does, you know he wasn’t expecting his sister-in-law too. if she’s here, so is yoongi.

“we picked these up on the way.” you hand her the paris baguette paper bag. you’d ordered a mix of fruit tarts, cinnamon rolls and macaroon. all of which you remember mrs. kim mentioning to be her favorites.

“oh! you shouldn’t have but thank you.” up close, naeun is much more prettier with a natural pinkish tint across her cheeks that makes her seem dreamy and glossed cheery lips that complements the gentle air she carries around. she passes the bag to one of the staff that’ll probably unbox them and plate them.

you offer her a smile - though a bit strained. and she must have noticed when she sighs softly, eyes darting to her fuchsia flats before looking back up at you with a furrowed brows. but even when she’s frowning, she’s pretty.

“i’ve been wanting to meet you and properly apologize for not being able to attend the wedding - i had an exhibition that day in prague and yoongi wouldn’t let me go by myself even though i thought at least one of us should go to his brother’s wedding.” she chuckles at the last part as if replaying the heartwarming scene of her protective husband choosing his wife over his family. you can feel every fiber of your body coiling and writhing - it takes everything for you not to leave through the door. would yoongi have done the same for you?

“this must be awkward for you, isn’t it?” her lips tug into a half-smile - a telltale that she’s equally uncomfortable to talk about this topic. “with you and yoongi being engaged before but now i’m the one married to him. but i hope we can put everything past us and be a family.”

but something in the way she talks - it’s as if she sympathizes. as if she’s saying it’s okay, you shouldn’t feel ashamed. but what are you supposed to be shameful of? of being engaged to yoongi before? of marrying his brother when said engagement fell through? perhaps you should have gave mrs. kim a hard ‘no’ when she pleaded with teary eyes for you and your parents’ forgiveness when she and mr. kim had to break the news over dinner two years ago. so you wouldn’t have to develop a hard skin and pretend you didn’t care about the ruthless rumors that have spread far and wide after your marriage to namjoon.

“oh? yeah, it was a long time ago.” you offhandedly say - it’s that moment, when her eyes twitches just the slightest bit that you realize it wasn’t all just in your head. she did mean to make you feel embarrassed when she started mentioning the engagement.

you join namjoon and mrs. kim at the garden while naeun follows suit a second later, taking the middle among the three seats. the elder woman’s eyes light up at the sight of you, her heels clacking against the wooden flooring as she crosses the distance and engulfs you in a hug. you hug back, smiling at the woman’s motherly warmth.

“___, my favorite daughter, what happened to you?” she cups your cheeks, brows furrowing as she seem to examine your complexion.

you should’ve used concealer.

“the hospital is working you to the bone isn’t it? why, it’s been awhile since i had lunch with chairman lee, maybe i should give his wife a call.”

that’s how it works when you have connections. if someone’s daughter or son fails to get into college or a job through regular exams or interviews, a dinner or lunch with the director of the institution will get the child admitted overnight. that’s probably why seokjin was harder on you than usual when you got back from your honeymoon - he must think you’re not serious about being a doctor. it’s not a secret he came from old money but he’d cut off all ties with his family when he started working. he has more ethics than half of the people you know.

“___ doesn’t like it when you do these things, mom.” yoongi grumbles - always the painfully honest one. the chair screeches as he pulls it and plops between naeun and namjoon while their father occupies the seat next to mrs. kim. it looks like they just came from mr. kim’s home office. and judging from the stiffness of their posture, the talk must have been a serious one.

namjoon’s shoulder line tightens just the slightest bit - you almost thought it was just a figment of your imagination but when you steal a glance at his face, you know he’s not too keen in having yoongi sit next to him. so you weren’t imagining it when he seemed like he was escaping yoongi by not waiting for naeun to come and walk with you to into the dining hall.

you’re not lost to yoongi’s familiar tone when he spoke on your behalf. but you’re not happy either. forcing a laugh, you push a strand to the back of your ear for the sake of doing something, “i-it’s not the hospital. i’ve been staying up late to work a bit on my research.”

a worker comes with the baked goods you brought. they’re plated on perfectly polished ceramic - you can easily see your forced smile in its reflection when the woman sets them down the table in front of you.

“research?” yoongi lifts one eyebrow at you. too casually. and it takes you back to those times when you used to visit him at his college’s library and you’d bring your homework with you whilst you slip in a few ‘what i did’s as he typed away on his mac but still managed to keep up with you and asked questions here and there. a sign that he’d been present and listening.

“___’s been working on researching how segregate defective genes during the fetal stage so the fetus won’t take on their parents’ inherent diseases when they’re born.” namjoon explains the simplified version almost as though it’s part of his day-to-day line of work. he grins at you, the corners of his lips tugging with pride - a gratification of being able to show you off.

“that’s good. you’re making a difference in this world.” mr. kim is the first to break the silence. and in the years you’ve known him, it means the highest level of flattery you’ll ever get from the man.

your cheeks are flushed red and you know well enough it’s not because of mr. kim’s compliment than it is his son’s. “it’s still just a research draft but th-thank you. mister-” the elder man raises his brow and you quickly correct yourself, “i mean, dad.”

he nods at the word, the slightest hint of smile disappearing under the cup of tea he brings to his mouth.

“but still, don’t push yourself too hard. working as a doctor takes up a lot of time already.” naeun fixes you with a worried gaze but something about her tone makes your stomach churn - it’s as if she’s playing down the time and effort you’d invested in your research and reminding you to focus on your paying job. even if you did downplay yourself when you were responding to mr. kim. before you can sort out the wave of emotions clashing inside you, namjoon seems to beat you to it.

“not everyone can do what ___’s doing. it’s okay if she wants to do more,” a hand slips under yours in your lap, reverting your gaze from the beautiful woman to the apparent difference in the size of yours and namjoon before you turn your cheek to him. it was a mistake because now you’re holding your breath as you come face to face. his body is leaned into you as he speaks, “i’ll just take care of ___ better.”

he turns to naeun, lips twitching upwards in a brief smile as if to enforce it more and putting a finality to the topic. but you’re left staring at namjoon’s sharp jawline until mrs. kim makes a squealing sound as she clamps her mouth shut in an attempt to tease you.

“gosh, is my baby all grown up now? he’s saying he’ll take care of his wife!”

the chuckle you let out is nowhere near natural or entertained. not when your insides are burning and you think your heart is going into overdrive from how fast it’s beating. and it doesn’t help that namjoon’s too casually playing along “of course, i only have one wife.”

“namjoon,” you take a second to gather yourself, hands fiddling in your lap as the car rolls to a stop in front of the lobby. the man fixes you with an inquisitive gaze. of course, who wouldn’t be wondering what’s up if their name was spoken with so much weight in them like you did with namjoon’s? “what was that? the wife thing?”

he stares into the street as he sifts through his memory before he fixes you with a gaze clouded with guilt, “i’m sorry. i got carried away - it won’t happen again.”

and that’s the thing. namjoon is too fast in admitting his fault. but you didn’t bring it up because you wanted an apology-

“no, i don’t mind.” you shake your head almost too eagerly before back tracking and clearing your throat, “i mean, it’s true. we’re married - i am your wife.”

the corners of his lips upturns at your last words and he doesn’t bother to hide it as he waits for you to finish - but how can you when he’s looking at you so tenderly like that?

“it’s just - too soon?” you curse yourself for sounding so meek but any louder, your heart might just jump out of your throat.

namjoon nods, that contemplative look settling on his face and takes away that smile only to return it with a dimpled grin. one hand slides in between yours and guiding the back of your hand to his lips.

“we’ll take it slow then.”

you can only nod, afraid that if you tried to speak, you would forget how to. the light rap on your side of the window catches both your attention. it’s the parking management. stealing a glance at the cars that are beginning to queue up behind you, you hurriedly gather your bag and hop out of the car.

cheeks flushed, you barely register waving back at namjoon when he leans over the passenger seat just to shoot you that dimpled smile and a ‘see you at home’.

you turn on your heels. the sharp click bounces against the white walls. a small smile spreads across your lips as you think about namjoon’s words.

yeah, the penthouse does feel like home.

this isn’t slow at all. you’re barely progressing.

it feels like everyday is passing by too fast what with the abundance of functions you’ve told namjoon you wanted to go with when you’re not working, to cramming some time for research and trying to find the time to at least make breakfast when you’re not on morning shift. though on some mornings, he’d beat you to breakfast and you’d wake up to the delectable smell of omelette or bacon.

“you must be thrilled about the new hospital, mrs. kim,” mrs. hwan is generally an agreeable woman along with her husband, the president of a small startup firm. they’re the first couple to approach you and namjoon since you arrived at the party. but that’s just it - the smiling, the talking, the eagerness doesn’t show in their eyes. it’s all about building connections while maintaining a good enough acquaintanceship. “are you going to be managing it directly since you’re a doctor yourself?”

“naturally,” the tug on your lips and the smoothness of your response is almost effortless. you’re no stranger to this scene - except back then, you would be standing next to yoongi. though your hand wouldn’t be tucked in his arm like yours is with namjoon. “though i still have a lot to learn, i hope the next two years will help me prepare to for eden.”

two years is the estimated time that eden hospital will be able to run. you’d finish your residency by then. all that’s left is to take the next step. just like your parents had planned for you as they’d planned many things. you never had the power to object.

mrs. hwan goes on to sprinkling empty praises while her husband laughs in deflated humor. they say the way to a successful business deal is through the wife.

once namjoon gets swamped by more people, you gently pull your hand away from his arm. you don’t miss the pleading look he fixes you when he notices your intention but you can only return a ‘you can do it!’ smile and slip away from the limelight.

the balcony area is dark, illuminated only by the fading light the pours over the floor past the door frame. you don’t expect the air to be this chilly at the beginning of summer but then again, namjoon did suggest bringing a coat - you were just too stubborn to because it would ruin the off shoulder look of your dress.

a sneeze escapes you a moment later as you hug yourself in an attempt to retain your body heat. but the warmth that engulfs you seems impossible to have come from just your puny palms - heck, your fingers were starting to feel prickly cold. there’s a sort of weight on your shoulders that wasn’t there before-

“idiot, you’re gonna catch a cold.” yoongi tuts from next to you - he has his hands in his pockets, all donned in crisp white shirt and checkered grey trousers and vest. all that’s missing is a matching blazer - the one that he placed around you just now.

somewhere in the recesses of your memories, you remember him taking off the muffler he had on and wrapping it around your neck when you showed up for your ‘christmas date’ with a pink nose and pinker ears - you could barely feel them. yoongi was that kind of person - the kind that acted like everything is a whole load of inconvenience and yet went to greater length to inconvenient himself for you.

“thanks. i thought i was going to freeze to death if i have to hide out here for another hour.” you tug the thick material of the blazer closer - the warmth of his heat feels just right.

“then you shouldn’t have come in the first place.” he must have noticed the higher-than-an-octave tone he uses before ruffling his hair - it’s the first you’ve ever seen him so unsure. is it really because of you?

“it’s fine. besides, what kind of wife would i be if i let namjoon get eaten by the pack of wolves by himself?” you chuckle at the fact that you’d done just that when you escaped the growing crowd of businessmen.

but when you notice the lack of humor on yoongi’s face, your own dies down. he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look. it’s not the bored expression he usually sports - not also the anger from the outburst just now. before you can say anything, namjoon’s lean silhouette appears in the doorway. you can’t see his face but his tone is strained. “we’re leaving, if you’re both done catching up.”

“so soon?” you know for a fact it probably hasn’t even been fifteen minutes - and you’re supposed to linger for at least two hours before leaving. that’d be enough time for namjoon to scout any potential business associate - the worthy ones at least.

“hey little bro.” yoongi waves, the disinterested look now returning but the way he phrases his next words oozes with revulsion. it’s no surprise. while yoongi hates these events - he’s probably here because of naeun, you heard the director of seoul’s annual art exhibition is here - namjoon strives off it. garnering attention and making the best of it by bringing in stockholders. “had enough of ass licking?”

you never understand the tangibility of the tension that feels the air when these two brothers are in the same room together - they’re barely able to remain civil in the presence of mr. and mrs. kim. anywhere without their parents’ watchful eyes, a fight would always be at risk of breaking out. whenever you were around, you’d be the one to interfere, whether it’s to tug on yoongi’s sleeve and tell him you’re hungry, or step in front of him just so he’d remember you’re here or right now-

“thank you, yoongi.” folding the blazer in half, you hand it back to the man - only that he’s not taking it back. momentarily, you wonder if you’d stained it with your lipstick or foundation but the lapels never touched anywhere above your neck. but deep in the crook of your conscience, you know it’s when his mind retracts back to you, to the present.

the sigh that escapes yoongi is a telltale of fatigue - you wonder if this is the first time of the day he came out of his studio. taking the blazer from your outstretched hand, he slings it over his shoulder, “don’t get too caught up with these functions. focus on your goal.”

your goal meaning what comes next in your career: the fellowship. you thought that information was lost on him, buried among the many things you told him just because you were comfortable telling him everything.

and as you watch him walk back into the lion’s den, you wonder, how didn’t you realize he was in love with someone else during the visits you paid while he was doing his masters and phd?

namjoon doesn’t say anything about yoongi in the car. but both his hands are on the wheel. knuckles a little paler from holding onto the wheel.

“you don’t have to be part of eden’s board of directors.” he huffs, as though annoyed but from the way he continues, you know he’s not annoyed at you. he’s annoyed at himself. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to - i don’t want to force anything on you.”

and you know - you know more than anyone how conscious namjoon is of things. from the change in your mood to the people that tries to get close to him because of his status - that’s also why he didn’t kiss you on your lips that day. but a kiss was the prerequisite of a vow so he kissed you on the forehead. the area where his lips landed burns your skin as your cheeks flush from the memory.

“i know.” you hesitate for a heartbeat but reach out to cover one of his hands on the wheel still. to let him know that you’re not just saying that to ease the guilt.

when you pull away from the thought of how risky and distracting what you did was, the hand that you were lightly caressing pulls at yours, intertwining your fingers as he keeps them on his thigh. your entire body burns from the contact yet you’re sitting frozen in your spot. it’s the gentle squeeze on your hand that brings you out of your shell-shock state. a smile tugs on your lips subconsciously as you squeeze back.

the following week, you almost got into a fight with namjoon when he caught you dressing up prettily. he told you it was okay not to attend these functions anymore - the ones your tight schedule barely allow you to. fight was an overstatement. your feelings were hurt when he’d kissed your temple and said, “it’s okay, you don’t have to push yourself.”

well, you were but he wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. “can’t you see? i wanna spend more time with you and the only way i can is if we attend these functions together.”

in hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have thrown your strapless black diamond purse at him out of frustration.

but the following functions, you did spend more time together. he’d declined the usual advancement of business people the way only kim namjoon could pull off - with a dimpled smile and a hand around your waist as if to indicate that they were interrupting - and they were. they’d come up to the both of you while you were telling namjoon about a new skillet spaghetti recipe you’d wanted to try making for the long overdue dinner you owe him. and you’d expected someone to approach namjoon and take his attention away but you didn’t think he’d decline them.

“hm? i don’t think we have tomatoes or beef. should we go grocery shopping?” he suggests calmly as though he didn’t just turn down the chairman of tvn broadcast. the man had to do a double take in case he had mistaken namjoon’s smooth rejection.

you place a hand on his chest, restraining the urge to pull your hand away as if you’ve touched fire. you knew he goes to the gym for an hour after work and his shirts always seem a size too small around his arms but you didn’t expect anything beyond that underneath that shirt of his. you clear your throat when you realize his neck is craned so he could look at you - give you all the attention in the world, “you know, we can discuss dinner some other time - when you’re free.”

but neither of you are free. you barely see each other at home because of your unpredictable schedule and his that’s set in stone.

“then what would you rather us talk about right now?” a corner of his lips tugs upwards. if you first met him, you wouldn’t easily dismiss the smile as nothing more than because of his amiable nature. but you’ve been married for almost five months now and you clearly pick up on the playfulness that lights up his eyes.

“the desserts.” you announce too quickly in an attempt to avert his attention from what he’s thinking - one thing you’ve realized is that namjoon is painfully aware of your blushing fits and your avoidance to look him in the eyes. “they’re nice, aren’t they?”

all of a sudden, he’s scooping a forkful of the chocolate souffle he’d picked up from the desserts section while you’d opted for the luscious almond torte. a small smirk tugs on his lips as he holds the fork to your mouth the way he does during breakfast. he knows you have no objections of being fed like a child but he also knows where you stand with public display of affection.

“say ‘aaaaa’ and i’ll give you a treat, doctor ___.” and he loves to tease you. he’s taken to calling you that because of that one incident where he’d seen you discuss about a patient with one of the nurses while you were on your way to meet him. in his own words, he’d ‘never seen you this scary before.’

in your defense, it was five minutes till lunch break so it was still working hours and you were acting the way you usually did at work - but you’d understand. the person you are with friends and the person you are at work are two separate entities. suppose you’ve mastered separating personal business and work. namjoon seems to take pleasure in making that steadfast side of you squirm and blush like a tomato.

your fingerpads gently grazes the back of his hand as you hold the fork in place before taking it in your mouth. your eyes flit over namjoon’s for the briefest moment before taking a step back, licking the residue of souffle off your lips.

“they really are nice.” you murmur as you throw your gaze at the stage where a man sits at the piano before flickering back to namjoon.

you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden -

the man in question still has the empty fork in the air, eyes wide and staring at you, you would’ve thought he’d seen a ghost. until you notice the dust of pink across his cheek and spread to the tip of his ears.

oh?

mrs. kim’s fundraiser is held at the school where the children attended. about four canopies were set up on the field. one for the children’s activities - you remember reading something about coloring, origami-making and storybook reading. the volunteers - possibly college students hoping to earn the graces of kimcorp’s president’s wife for an internship - already have the children huddled up in groups of three or four.

one canopy is specifically set up for a table of wide range of food - if there’s anything you like about these functions, it’s the abundance of food they never fail to prepare. as if spending a lot of money on a fundraising event is something to flex about.

the other two canopies are for the people of interest - acquaintances of mrs. kim and those who come with an ulterior motive be it to get sponsors for their own project, a business deal or simply to regain a higher social hierarchy by falling into your mother-in-law’s graces.

you press a light kiss on namjoon’s cheek before he’s whisked away by the second category. business men who jump at the sight of your ceo husband who got a fair warning from mrs. kim to “play nice. what’s gotten into you all of a sudden? these days i keep hearing things about you turning chairmen down! your father didn’t work this hard just to raise a stuck up son that could ruin his business in a matter of days.”

once you’ve had a slice of red velvet and tiny macaroons, you decide to hide yourself from the few people who try to do the same to you when namjoon is too preoccupied by the ones who claimed his attention first. just like preys on the top of the pyramid sinking its claws, the lower level preys couldn’t come close.

but one manages to follow you into one of the classrooms.

“nothing’s changed has it?’ yoongi stands in the doorway, tuxedo and brown loafers and all. hands tucked into both his pockets, he strides across the room and stops in front of the window that overlooks the light pink canopies and the people underneath them. “same old assholes using a charitable cause to proliferate their influence.”

the muscles on your face pulls your lips into a disapproving frown, “that’s how our parents manage to give us an education. a good life.” you don’t agree to the way they go about it but you give credit where it’s due.

yoongi scoffs, his shoulders jolting slightly. you can’t see his face as he stands with his back on you but you know he’s smirking that condescending smirk. the first time you saw it was when you were in your senior year of high school and yoongi was doing his masters in business and accounting. he’d looked down on the man who approached the two of you like he was scum just because everyone knew his company was wallowing in debt and he’s desperate enough to ask the lion who hates the jungle for help.

“always finding a middle ground. if you like what they do so much, why did you become a doctor? why didn’t you follow their footsteps, huh?”

you can’t help but let out a tired sigh. you’ve been here before. you’ve seen this. yoongi hates the world he’s born in and you understand why but you can never feel what he feels. “why are you here, yoongi? shouldn’t you be with naeun?” there’s a pause. a heartbeat before you decide to let yourself free. say what you want to say. “before the wolves get to her.”

“she’s fine.” it's almost offensive how haughty he sounds. he must either be aware of nauen’s innocence that makes the wolves eliminate the possibility of her being a threat or he just doesn’t care. the latter presumption makes your stomach churn.

did he also not care about you when you were together? when you went to these events as a couple?

“we should head back. it would be bad if anyone saw us alone like this even though we’re just talking.” and that’s that. you turn on your heels, making way to the door but before you can even take another step forward, lithe fingers wrap around your wrist.

“what?” it comes out harsher than you intend it. funny how you put on a face of a woman made out of steel when your knees can barely hold your weight the moment you feel his warm hand on your skin.

“i knew - i knew but i didn’t want to tie you down.” with his head lowered and his long hair, you can’t see his eyes for an idea of what he’s saying.

“yoongi, what-”

“i knew how you felt.” at that moment, his grip on you loosens. it’s almost as though it’s an overdue confession and the weight on his shoulders has finally lifted, “you only knew me - you turned down every boy that tried to ask you out in high school and college. you -you were only looking at me and i didn’t want that on my shoulders - i didn’t want you to turn down every opportunity to life - to dating, to heart break to - to sex with someone - several someone’s just because we were engaged.”

his fingers traces down your index finger before falling away. but you won’t tell him - you can never do it to namjoon - that it took all of you not to twine your fingers with his just because it felt like he was letting go.

your breath hitches in your throat when you turn your cheek towards him. the sight before you is something you’d never thought you’d see in your entire life. yoongi’s pink dusts his otherwise snowflake skin. the bored expression he usually wears is gone - almost as if he’s never worn it his entire life as something akin to desperation pools in those dark eyes. his soft pink lips are agape as though he wants to say something. and you wait, wait, wait but he never does.

so you turn your back on him, heels clicking against the ground as you slip past the door without a word. only when you’re at the end of the hallway, do you turn the corner, back pressed against the wall because your buckling legs might not be able to handle your weight.

those unsaid words - you can hear them clearly: i fucking regret letting you go.

the following week, you spend by drowning yourself in work and later working on your research until the library closes. by the time you’re pressing the 20th floor to the penthouse you both shared, you know for certain namjoon’s gone to bed. he values his sleep time. says it’s essential to keep himself in a good mood so others who work with him would be at ease. sometimes you want to tell him it’s okay not to think about others for once but the words lay buried the depth of your heart because you’re exactly like him. suppressing your feelings, smiling and saying you’re okay even though you’re not. the only difference is there’s a side of you that wants to lash out, do something worse to those who hurt you while namjoon does it from the good of his heart.

“it’s hard, being nice.” he says in between the clink of the stirring of the spoon in his coffee mug.

you look up from the peanut butter you’re spreading over your toast. “hm?”

he shakes his head, as if to say it’s nothing, i’m just thinking out loud. but the words he says next is enough to make your heart drop right to the ground. “yoongi told me.”

“wh-what?” it’s denial in your tone - the combination of those three words are simple enough to take you back to the school nine days ago. in side that little classroom.

“yesterday. he came over to the office.” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal but the tensed line of his shoulders is apparent no matter how casually he brings the mug to his smiling lips - that too. his lips are smiling but his eyes are not.

you don’t know when or how you started noticing the little things. sensing namjoon’s moods - his reactions and his retractions. you never realized you were so in tune with the things he does. all you realize is you’re already able to read him like a book - thick, best-leather book that was safeguarded by a lock.

“namjoon,” the clink of the butter knife being set on your plate resonates like a pin drop in a vacuum room, “nothing happened. i promise.”

“i know - i know you’d never do anything like that so that’s why i’m telling you it’s okay.” something in the way he looks at you make you bite your tongue - as if he’s asking you to listen even though you’re bursting at the seams. you’d do anything to prove that nothing happened even though you knew he knew. “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

he chuckles but it’s strained and tense, dumping the coffee into the sink because he couldn’t bear to stay in the kitchen any longer. you slip out of the high stool, feet padding around the counter and before you know it, your arms around his body. you feel him freeze under your touch and this is wrong - wrong on so many levels because he would have asked if he could touch you and you’re not reflecting the same amount of respect he had for you.

but for some reason, you can’t let go - you’re afraid if you let him walk out of the door, you’d never be able to grasp even a shadow of his existence.

“i don’t want to.” the words are muffled from your cheek pressing against his back.

a pause lapses between you when you don’t say anything else. no explanation. no reason. because you don’t know it yourself. you don’t know why your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of namjoon’s dismal smile. you don’t know why you acted on your instincts and hugged the man.

you don’t know.

“okay.” he sighs softly as a warm palm rests above your fisted hand. you wish you can see him - wish you can see what kind of expression he’s making because it’s killing you to not know what he’s thinking. “you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

that’s when the sniffle escapes you. internally, you curse yourself for being so emotion-driven. it’s not a good trait for a doctor to have.

namjoon calls your name. the syllabus rolling off his tongue makes your stomach churn with butterflies. “are you crying?”

you don’t expect him to say that. don’t expect the teasing undertone either. naturally, your respond comes a heartbeat later, “n-no.”

the body under your touch shifts. all of a sudden, you’re eye-to-eye with him. there’s a sparkle in them that almost makes you forget how to breathe. his dimples dig into his cheek as his lips curl into a smile whilst his large hands frames you face.

“wh-what?” you feel your brows furrowing, lips pursed.

“you’re too cute.” his thumb grazes your burning cheekbone feather light, “i want to kiss you.”

“then do it.” you don’t know the reason behind that angry, pressed tone but namjoon doesn’t seem to mind - or he knows something you don’t.

you don’t have the time to ponder on that when a pair of lush lips meshes with yours. the scent of the coffee he had engulfs your senses as one hand finds its way to the back of his neck and the other rests on his accelerating heartbeat. time seems to stop when namjoon’s kissing you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctly remember something perpetually important but you couldn’t be bothered as his hands fall away from your face and finds the dip of your lower back and pull you closer until your bodies are pressed together.

somewhere in a distant, you hear the beep of the front door. hoseok’s voice booming across the hallway that leads to the living room and the kitchen where you’re at now.

“namjoon? you here? did you oversleep? man, i never thought i’d see the day our ceo is late to work.” hoseok’s footsteps stops at the end of the hallway, “oh great, you’re all dressed.”

he blinks, surprised at the sight of his boss who’s leaning against the edge of the sink - hands pressed on either side of the edge, doing absolutely nothing while you dip a butter knife into a jar of peanut butter and jelly but equally as out-of-it as his boss appear to be.

“y-yeah, let me grab my blazer.” namjoon pushes himself off, going around the counter and heading towards the stairs where his bedroom is until -

“it’s here.” hoseok points out.

“what?”

“your blazer. it’s this one, right?” the secretary loyally scoops up the thick maroon blazer off the couch and hands it to his boss who’s just barely recovered from what seems to be a trance.

he’d went down and tossed the blazer on the couch before making his coffee - before the kiss.

namjoon clears his throat, refusing to look at the man’s scrutinizing eyes as he thanks him and slips the blazer on. but he loses those eyes when he peeks over the man’s shoulder, mini-waving at you, “hey, morning, doc.”

you return the greeting, refraining a blush as you feel the ghost of namjoon’s lips when you fix his secretary a smile, “hey, hoseok. care to join us for breakfast?”

the man shrugs, eyes flitting over his boss who now seems ready to go, “thanks doc but i had some cereal and cold milk.”

he bids his farewell and escapes out of where he came from, letting the two of do what newly weds do before the other goes to work. it’s in that moment that he realizes with a chill running down his spine as he sat in the driver seat - that namjoon isn’t a bachelor anymore and he couldn’t come and go as he pleases and that he might have interrupted something. come to think of it, both you and namjoon’s cheeks were flushed...

“h-hey boss,” hoseok steals a glance of the man at the backseat through the rear view mirror. he almost chokes on his next words when the man’s eyes meet him but he persists like a man on a mission to not get fired , “y-you know, i’ve been with kimcorp. f-for a long time. i-it’s like my family a-and i’ll work harder from now on.”

confusion flashes across namjoon’s features for the briefest moment. he doesn’t know what makes hoseok say something so out of his character and shakily at that but it’s not the first time that his employee’s said something like this to him - of course, minus the stutter and all.

“that’s good to know, hoseok.” he says simply.

it’s been a week since you told namjoon you didn’t - wouldn’t see anyone. yoongi or not. when you told him you were going to meet yoongi at a cafe near his studio to give the man an answer - a hard no, there’s still some needling doubt in namjoon’s gaze as he reverts his eyes away from you. as though he was afraid that the illusion would fade away and he’d end up catching the smolder of passion he’d always seen you look at the man with.

he’s not lost to your feelings - in hindsight, it was pathetically obvious how smitten you were for the elder man. even your and his parents could see. and they’d foreseen many things but not having to plead and then beg and then finally, force you into a marriage you didn’t want with the brother of the man you loved.

your only regret was leaving without kissing namjoon goodbye - but it also felt like anything you said, any sort of assurance you offered would just be an act. until you tell his brother to stop.

“come to think of it,” you set the warm cup of latte down. it would have tasted better if the circumstances were different, “we never properly ended things. the only way i knew the engagement was over was through mom and dad.” his parents you meant.

he tilts his head to the side as a response - an indication that he’s listening. he’s dressed in plain white shirt and the darkest jeans. the bags under his eyes is an indication that he hasn’t slept in days - either it’s because of working late nights trying to make music or because of what he’d said to you.

you know he’d do this - detach himself from reality when things gets tough or when he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t have control over. but you still had hope. still held onto the past seven years you’d spent together for him to regard you with enough respect to offer closure.

“do you love naeun that much?” and yet you still ask.

you meet his hollow gaze, not knowing the intensity yours hold until your fingerpads wrapped around aches and he lets out a heavy breath.

“she was different.” he says simply - almost tiredly, “she caught my eyes. we started talking and we found out we had some things in common. i thought she’s what i needed to get over you.”

“don’t.” the churning starts from your stomach and spreads across your body like a poisonous fog. “don’t use me as an excuse for leaving. you loved me as much as i loved you and you got scared.”

a lump forms in your throat as the memories, the inside jokes that built up over time, the comfortable silents spent - everything comes crashing in like tidal wave. you knew he loved you deep down. that was why the news of him getting married took a toll on you - so much so, you decided to leave everything behind and fly to paris.

“you could’ve pushed me away if you truly had no feelings for me but you kept me around and let me think we were going to have a happy future together.” his image is distorted from the prickles of tears in your eyes but you blink them away, “but you didn’t really know you were in love with me back then, huh? that’s why you got scared shitless and decided to leave.” you’re not sure if you’re choking on your words or if you’re actually scoffing. maybe both.

in that moment, you watch as yoongi’s expression switches from that signature boredom to realization and finally unbridled sorrow. he must feel suffocated - like he’s drowning in emotions the way you did in that suite you spent for two weeks in paris before you decided to buy an apartment and stay for good. and you would have if your parents didn’t call you back - recounted all their sacrifices for you to make you guilty enough to agree to the marriage with his younger brother. he’ll spend the same amount of time sleeping and waking up in his room and realizing he can’t turn back time.

“i fucked up big time, didn’t i?” he laughs dryly as he presses his palm to his face, hunched over the minute round table.

the latte is still half-full when you swipe your phone off the table and stand up. he doesn’t spare you a glance - he probably couldn’t bring himself to face you now.

‘you’re a fucking coward min yoongi.’ is what you want to say but for some reason, you leave the words to die on the tip of your tongue. you won’t - can’t wish him a happy life and propose to put everything past you. it’s not that simple and you’re not that forgiving. but namjoon’s easy smile flashes at the back of your head at this moment of all time and makes your heart clench painfully in your chest. their relationship is already strained and if you insist on prolonging this, it’s only going to end up hurting namjoon one way or another and the cycle will just keep going on with naeun getting hurt if she found out.

“you did.” your hand is trembling around the strap of your bag, “but it’s all in the past and i don’t blame you. things wouldn’t turn out the way they do otherwise. so just... live for the present, yoongi.”

his shoulders rise and fall a little faster than normal but there’s nothing you can do - and it’s better if you leave him to collect his thoughts. the censor at the door beeps as you pass through. it takes a moment for you to feel the morning air brush your cheeks and sunlight to seep into you. your chest still feels tight but in due time, you know it’ll lighten.

“hey, boss. you have a special guest.” hoseok peeks into namjoon’s office like the slyboots he is. the wiggle of the man’s brows before he disappears gives namjoon all the more reason to prepare for the worse.

“send them in.” he sighs, not bothering to hide his feelings in front of hoseok. they’ve been working side by side for a long time and friends for longer he knows his friend is aware of the contrasting definition of ‘special’ but this once, as he sees you walk through the door - he admits that him and hoseok may finally be of the same mind.

namjoon shoots up from his seat, clearing his throat and buttoning his blazer together the way he’s so used to doing it when he receives an unannounced visit from his father. “what brings you here?”

instead of shooting him one of your brilliant smiles, you drop your bag on the crisp white leather couch and run right into him. arms wrapped around his torso, he can smell your favorite floral shampoo from your hair but he can’t bring himself to hug you back. his heart is palpitating inside his chest and he can only pray for some miracle that you can’t hear it. which is most unlikely what with your head coming up just a few centimeters above his shoulder line and your ears being the same height as the beating organ in his chest.

if you notice, you're not saying anything about it.

“i met yoongi just now.”

namjoon doesn’t say a word for the longest time - it’s so namjoon of him not to. but it’s also not where you stand now. that day, when you partially admitted to liking namjoon and you’re pretty sure he felt the same - you’d seen a side of namjoon you never thought you’d saw. vulnerable. fearful. all because he thought he was going to lose you - and it felt like he’s always been prepared for it. it was just a matter of time.

the muscles in your arms contracts at the thought of namjoon being so ready to let you go - is it like that too, right now? is he expecting you to go back on your words and tell him you’re going to have an affair with his brother? you don’t know and that’s driving you insane.

and just when the muscles in your arm contract, just when you’re about to pull away, namjoon’s arms band around your body and a kiss lands on top of your head.

“did you tell him what you wanted to tell him all this time?” his voice is velvet and smooth and you can hear that easy smile as he speaks.

you nod against his chest. “it’s over. i told him to get lost.”

the chest vibrates against your cheek as rings of chuckles tumble out of namjoon’s mouth. it makes your body light up with a sort of fire. and for once, you welcome the heat spreading across your cheeks like an old friend.

he knows the last part is a bluff - it’s comforting that he knows without having you say it.

does he also know...

“after that i came here because i wanted to see you.” you crane your neck to look up at him.

true enough there’s that smile and gets wider when he meets your gaze. a hand comes to rest on your neck while his thumb grazes your chin as he presses his lips to yours. you think your heart might explode at any moment now as you kiss him back, your hand snaking to his shoulder but he stops your right hand, holding it on his chest. his heart beats the same rhythm as yours. his shoulder line heaving the same way yours do when the back of your thighs hit the couch and you finally break apart. but before you have the chance to gather your thoughts, his lips are on you again. the hand on your lower back pulling you closer until your thighs press on either side of his legs.

“let’s go home now.” he murmurs between breaths, “i might really go crazy if i touch another part of your body that’s covered in clothing.”

it’s in that moment that the door swings open.

hoseok bursts through the door with the photostatted files in his hand. there’s a skip in his step.

“hey boss! here’s the files you asked for.”

he looks between you - well your back - and namjoon. the ceo is fixing his tie with a hard expression while you’re standing facing the ceiling-to-floor window that overlooks the streets and several stores in the area.

d-did he just walk into you two fighting?

“thanks, hoseok.” namjoon swipes the files from his hand, walking back to his seat around the desk and dropping the files with a sharp pap!

“n-no problem boss.” he takes one frightened step backwards before turning around but before he manages to escape the lion’s den, you stop him.

“hoseok wait.” it comes out a bit rushed. granted, you’re not in any position to waste time. you dropped by even though you know you can’t afford being late to work but somehow you ended up at namjoon’s office anyway. the secretary seems to physically turn into a rock before shakily turn his cheek to you with a smile.

“uh, yeah doc?”

“namjoon, do you mind me borrowing hoseok for a bit?” the heat comes on full force as you turn to namjoon. he’s burning a hole through the files he’s flipping through but you don’t miss the pinked tips of his ears and the way his adam’s apple bobs at the sound of his name on your tongue, “my shift is starting at noon so i need to be there by,” you check the watch on your wrist, “now.”

the way namjoon doesn’t even look up from flipping the papers is how hoseok know for sure you’re fighting. “sure thing. oh and hoseok, no detours. come straight back once you drop ___ off.”

but to you, it’s because he’s flustered beyond imagination - you know, like you know how he’ll condemn himself for not being able to control himself like that. your whole body heats up as you slip into the back seat when the image of namjoon’s hooded eyes, reddened cheeks and half agape lips flash at the back of his mind. a part of you - the reasonable one - chides yourself for even thinking about ditching work and actually going home with him but another part wishes to indulge in the endless possibilities of what will happen if you did.

“____,” your name tumbles out of namjoon’s mouth in a breathy huff. naturally so. he hasn’t even caught his breath from when he finds you crawling over him like a woman in on a mission. now, the same exact woman his cuffing his wrists and holding them over his head with one hand while the other is undoing the buttons of his shirt while she kisses him in all the right places.

“wh-where did you even get cuffs?” his headboard is one of those pristine white cushioned ones meaning there isn’t any rails for you to hook him on and keep him in place. but you don’t need that because namjoon can barely move - all that time he spends at the gym has gone down the drain as invisible threads tie him down.

“oh these?” you let one corner of your lips tug deviously. it’s been six months since you got married and you and namjoon has never gone past the occasional cuddles and light kisses. the morning after that day when you dropped by his office after meeting yoongi, namjoon had declared his intentions to ‘do it right’ - like dates and getting to know each other better before anything else.

it was sweet of him. until you realized you barely had time for dates - only late night conversations that ended up with you on top of him but before things could progress, he’d do everything he could to avoid bedroom affairs. but over time, it gets a bit discouraging. so this is the last straw - there’s no wine or champagne for him to use as an excuse to carry you to your room. you’re both sober, and if he doesn’t want you -

“never mind where i got these.” the low sound emitting from his throat makes your heart skip a beat as your lips brush against the shell of his ear, “don’t you want me, namjoon?”

trailing hisses down his smooth jawline, you let your lips hover over his - it only lasts for a heartbeat before he closes the distance and starts kisses you like a famine beast.

“i want you,” he confesses when you pull away just to reinforce your control. he may be the one lying down with his hands bound but it almost felt like you’re the hopeless one here - almost. the a feral glint in his eyes sends hot waves down your core - you have to tell yourself to breathe. “of course i fucking want you ___.”

you hum in contemplation - taking just enough time to sit straighter and let your fingers undo the rest of the buttons and stopping just above his belt. the few times you laid together and he lets you lie on top of him - you knew he was brains and brawn. but you didn’t expect a perfectly sculpted body of adonis himself to be lying beneath you. the ridges of his abs heaves helplessly as he drawn in deep breaths.

somewhere on the edge of the bed where you’d tossed it, your phone vibrates - someone’s calling but that can wait.

you lean down, soft tresses brushing his skin as you kiss that spot that illicit a delicious sound from him the first time you discovered it. somewhere in the junction between his shoulder and neck.

“fuck.” his voice is raw and desperate and carnal as his body yearns for you. his legs bent at the knees, feet ground into the bed as he grinds his hip into you - the signs of his arousal painfully obvious.

you can’t help but giggle at the way he so vehemently yearn for you. somewhere on the bed, your phone starts vibrating again.

“y-your phone.” he manages to stammer out. it’s the third time it’s vibrating.

“don’t worry about it. the only people who would call me at this time is jisoo’s drunken butt dial or the hospital-” you sit back up, heat still pooling in your stomach when your hips grind against namjoon’s arousal in the process but the urgency in the way you swipe your phone off the sheets has stolen your attention.

clear as day, it is one of the two possibilities you’ve mentioned and it isn’t your quirky colleague.

when you first started working, you were of the ripe age and eager to help those in need. you loved your job despite the long arduous hours, missed meals and ungodly hour roll calls because at the end of the day, it was what you wanted to do - it was the one thing you wouldn’t let your parents take away from you. you fought blood sweat and tears to get where you are now.

and doctors don’t usually start a family until they’ve at least finished their residency - but you had to get married early to keep your end of the bargain. of course, you didn’t expect to commit to said marriage. you didn’t also expect to fall for namjoon either. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to still be here in the waiting area when you walked out of the emergency operating room, head lulling to the side as sleep begins to take him, arms crossed over his chest. he didn’t even get the chance to change when you hurriedly uncoffed him, informing him about an emergency at the er. he’d offered to drive you since you couldn’t drive and waiting for an uber driver to accept your request this late at night would take more time. you’d rushed out of the car with a ‘thanks, namjoon. i owe you one!’ thinking he’d go home and get some rest - there’s no telling how long these surgeries take after all.

when he leans too far to the side, his eyes flutter open softly before noticing the turquoise-clad body in his periphery.

“___, you’re done? did the surgery go alright?” he’s always had a way of saying your name. it makes your heart warm and your chest full as he stands up to close the distance between you - to cup one side of your cheek with his hand. though your delayed response may have been the reason for that.

“the surgery was a success.” you finally say, your smaller hand covering his, lips curving softly. guilt creeps up the creeks of your chest but gratitude washes it away. it wouldn’t have been very namjoon of him if he didn’t consider everything: how you’d go home once you’re done. if there’s even any uber working this late of an hour. your heart is swelling - you don’t think you can ever love him more than you do now but namjoon being namjoon, he’ll make you fall in love with him more and more until your heart is filled to the brim, “thank you, namjoon.”

and he gets it. just like that. the words that you’re saying without putting them into words because there are many ways to say it and a plethora of intrepreting it but namjoon gets it because his heart beats the same rhythm as you: i love you.

a dimpled smile curls over his lips as he places a kiss over your forehead, “should we go home?” he leans down to whisper into your ears, his tone changing dangerously, “and pick up where we left off, yeah doc?”

3K notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

Text

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x Mindhunter AU

Spencer Reid x Peggy Carr (OC) Part 2: The Case

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: strangers to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn! flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr and Jason Gideon's biological daughter. mentions of rape and murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 2.2K

ao3

He’s not expecting her to roll out a full map after the waitress clears the food from their table. They’ve been in the booth for barely 20 minutes. Having mindless conversations about their day and small get to know each other questions while they ate.

“So, I brought all this to my dad,” she explained, dropping 33 files on the table as well as 2 spiral notebooks and a handful of pens. “He thinks I have a case, but he’s refusing to look at the evidence because he’s still triggered by it, which I get, but he said you’d be the best at helping me because I really just need a geo-profile consult.”

“How is he doing?”

She’s been waiting for him to ask but she still didn’t know how to answer, no matter how much time she had to prep, “uh, he’s good. He talks about you every time I see him, how often do you talk?”

“We haven’t talked since he almost died, 6 years ago now… yes, it was in 2015,” Spencer says it like it’s nothing serious.

“Oh,” she’s confused about it all. Her father talks about him more than anyone else, always remembering a case or a conversation that he just had to tell her about.

Spencer was his buddy in her eyes. “Here I was thinking he liked you more than me like you’re his favourite kid.”

“I’m not his kid,” his eyes widen at the insinuation that they’re somehow siblings in any sense.

It makes her laugh, she knows he’s interested in her a small amount. She was hoping he would, she’s heard so many wonderful things about him and she remembers just how cute he was back in 2005. Now he’s a man and a mighty fine one at that…

“I take it you’re an only child?” He changes the subject, “you can’t handle the idea of your father having relationships with people your age when you hardly know him?”

“How about you tell me who you think I am and I’ll tell you where you went wrong?” She challenges him rather than answering, she knows he’s good but she wants to see it in action.

Spencer raised his brow, “if I get it right, you’re paying for lunch.”

“Deal.”

He opens her notebook and takes a look at her notes, flipping through the pages reading the words just as fast as her father said he could. It was incomprehensible, but he didn’t read far… he keeps going back to her drawings, studying the pressure and how her mind worked.

“Your mom travelled a lot when you were a kid, and you always went with her. I’m thinking you have a few degrees, at least 3…” he pauses to watch her microexpressions, trailing her skin with his eyes as he looks for anything out of the ordinary. “There’s a doctorate in there but you hate being called Dr. Carr because that’s your mother’s name and it reminds you too much of people asking about her instead of how you’re doing.”

It cuts deep, but he hits the nail on the head and she just blinks. The simplest microexpression that shows him he got it right, his smile is awkward and he’s sorry for it.

“You were homeschooled so you don’t trust people very easily. You have issues with your father that you can’t place because you still don’t think you know him well enough to really have an opinion, and you’re jealous of me because you wish you knew how he brags about you when you’re not around, but he doesn’t talk about you because you told him not to.”

“I specifically told him I wanted to be left out of his life to stay safe, so it’s really my fault that he can’t brag about me. But I still wish someone would,” she admits with a soft smile. “And I think it’s not really jealousy. I’m not jealous of how he brags about his time with you. If anything, I really admire you now.”

He blushes a little, “alright, your turn.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend before have you?” She calls him out right away. “You can’t take a compliment seriously because no one has loved you deep enough yet for you to believe them. I already know about your parents, I know that you’re scared of forgetting and that’s why you won't stop learning. I think you probably have a bucket list, you’re desperate for something exciting to happen and that’s why you like me already.”

He blinks right back, “touché.”

“I’ll still buy your lunch,” she smiled, and he smiled right back. “And I do have 3 degrees.”

“I do too.”

“I know,” she reminded him. “You’ve been working on that 4th one for the last 16 years.”

“I haven’t had the time.”

She shakes her head as she laughs, teasing him as if she’s better than him because she knows he finds her interesting already, “I had my Ph.D. by 17, as well 2 masters by the time I was 21.”

“3 Ph.D.’s by 22,” he bragged right back.

It had suddenly become a staring contest, “when exactly did your dad walk out on you?”

“I was 10.” Spencer answers. “When was the last time your mom said she was proud of you?”

“Oh, we're going that far, I see,” she laughed, hurt just a little that he dug that deep, “what happened to yours recently?”

“Alzheimer’s.”

“I’m really sorry, I knew about the schizophrenia already because of the fisher king case, that one is the one that still has my dad all fucked up,” she can’t help but rant as she apologizes, placing her hands on his in the centre of the table and he interlocks their fingers like they’ve known each other for years.

“Boston?” He asks her, changing the topic back to getting to know each other without letting go of her hands.

She nods, “Vegas?”

“You knew that already,” he catches her.

“Maybe so,” she blushes at the embarrassment of him picking up on her crush.

“How’d he describe me at chess?” There’s a cockiness behind it that she admires, smiling in response she just shakes her head.

“I don’t play chess, but he says that other than Agent Prentiss, you’re the only person who has come close to beating him.”

“Prentiss?” He looks almost offended at the fact he didn’t know that story.

“You were asleep on the jet, it was right after the trip to Azkaban,” she reminds him.

“Azkaban?” He repeats. “You mean Guantanamo?”

She’s only slightly embarrassed by the slip-up, blushing a deep red as she presses her lips together and squeezes his hand. “My mom calls it Azkaban, she hates it. If it wasn’t for the BAU, she would have never joined the bureau or the government in any way, she’s against the criminal justice system too, so…”

“She’s a woman of science and empathy, I’ve never met her, but I’ve read all her work.”

“So have I,” she’s full of butterflies for some reason as she thinks about him knowing everything that she does, she’s suddenly excited at the prospect of future conversations with him like this isn’t a one-time thing.

He’s still holding her hands over the map, both of them leaning in slightly as they kept talking, it felt overly intimate for a discussion of a case— and they haven’t even started yet.

She takes her hands out of his grip and flattens them over the map, “so I found a pattern, I was asked to look into the rape and murder of a friends sister, and now I’ve found 32 matching cases all over America going in alphabetical order by state, 2 a year since 2005.”

“Are you serious?”

She nods softly, “I’m a private investigator. I hated the academy and simply being in the BAU almost killed both of my parents so I’m not really fond of it, but I need help.”

“How did VICAP not pick this up?” Spencer’s still caught up on the fact this has been happening during his entire career and he had no way of helping. It was very clear by the look on his face.

“Because they’re college-age women getting raped in their dorms, 1 in each state, and men don’t care enough to dig a little deeper when it’s just a little girl who was probably asking for it anyway, right?”

He looks furious, but with her… not at her.

Not like most men, that’s actually exactly what any other guy would have said to her. ‘Not most men,’ they only said that if they were offended; when they knew that they were the exact type of man she was referring to.

He started opening case files then, flipping through everything as she watched carefully, “he always does it the exact same way. It’s every March and November between the 6th and 12th, he’s gotten to the O’s, which means the next hit should be in Oklahoma in exactly 2 months' time.”

“Has there been evidence?” Spencer asks, avoiding eye contact as he both listens and absorbs.

“1 footprint and some random fingerprints at the first few, other than that it’s like he was never there,” she sighs. “This is where I need your help; I’m unsure if he’s attacking randomly or if it’s planned ahead of time, so I brought the map to see if you can make any connection.”

“Alright,” he closes the folder and hands them to her so he can get a better look at everything. “I’m going to need the exact address of each one.”

“I have 32 mini maps,” she says, opening her book bag and handing him yet another folder.

“I’ve noticed they’re in every capital, and it’s always on the east side of the city,” she adds as he spreads them out on the table.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and turns on the flash, turning it face down and holding the sheets of paper over it, “If you look at them over each other, there might be a pattern. We should call my friend Penelope, she’ll be able to digitally do this and find something.”

“Okay,” Peggy nods along, “I really need to know within the week because I’m moving to Oklahoma.”

“What?” He looks overly worried.

“He’s interested in college-age brunettes,” she points at herself. “I’m going to rent an apartment with a sliding door in the kill zone, and I’m going to wait it out. I’ll make sure everyone knows I live alone, I won't make friends, I’ll keep the windows open when I go to the store, I’ll make myself a victim.”

“No, we can get the bureau to send in a team, you don’t need to be in harm's way,” he protests, “I won’t help if I know you’re throwing yourself in the middle of all this. I refuse.”

There’s an underlying panic that she doesn’t quite understand. He’s almost shaking as he thinks about her playing the victim, they stare back and forth at each other softly, eyes flickering over the other’s expression as he also reads her.

“Fine,” she agrees, finally. “But if you’re getting the team involved, I want to be able to have some say in the investigation. I don’t want to be kicked out for just being a PI.”

“On one condition,” Spencer smirks. “You have to teach the BTK seminar with me.”

“Deal,” she smiled. “But I have some conditions too.”

“Anything?”

He was going to regret that.

“We can’t sleep together until we catch the guy— don’t look at me like that!” she catches the way his jaw drops and his eyes glisten.

He’s in complete shock, trying to say words and failing miserably as she stares at him knowingly. “I only said that because I need rules for myself too. We can’t care more about each other than the victims. Solve the case with me and then I’ll have a crush on you, okay?”

“Okay,” he finally finds the words to agree. “Was it that obvious?”

“We held hands for 5 minutes, I’ve thought you were cute since you were 23 and that seminar was a; 'my horse is bigger than your horse' flirting match,” she calls it all out, “I’m just as into you as you are into me already, if not more so because I know way too much about you thanks to my dad and uncle Rossi.”

“Dave knew about you too?” He’s more upset than she expected.

She nods, “yeah, so that I’d be taken care of if anything happened to my dad.”

He is a little upset and she can’t figure out why from what she knows already, “why?”

“You’re so interesting, you and I could have been friends for the last 15 years and things could have been so interesting but you were a secret,” he whispers.

“I was right wasn’t I?”

He nods again, “Gideon doesn’t know about Maeve, but I had a girlfriend who died in front of me before I could tell her I loved her and it broke me.”

Everything makes sense now. The stares, the stuttering, the defensiveness at the idea of her being in harm's way after only knowing her for a few hours. He was desperately looking for someone like himself to prove that he wasn’t going to be alone forever, and he wanted that to be found in her.

“Solve the case with me, then you can learn what it’s like to love someone who loves you back.”

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #intro to cm #mindhunter #wendy carr #peggy carr

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imaginedhaven · 4 years ago

Text

In the Bleak Midwinter

a Rowaelin holiday oneshot

Summary:

Aelin Galathynius returns to Orynth for the first time in years after a rough breakup, having promised her cousin that they could spend Yulemas together. She couldn’t have known how much everything in Orynth had changed... or perhaps it was she who had done the changing.

As she runs into old faces and meets a new face as well, she comes to realize that perhaps her life isn’t done changing after all.

Word Count: approx. 15,000

Rating: M

Warnings/Contents: Modern AU, Kidfic, Non-Graphic Sexual Content, Flashbacks

~*~*~

Snow crunched under Aelin’s boot as she stepped onto the corner of a street she’d thought she’d never see again.

It had been five long years since she’d set foot in Orynth at all, much less on this street in particular. She had left the small town behind as soon as she’d graduated from high school, and had never intended to look back. She still wouldn’t have, were it not for an invitation from her cousin at exactly the right time.

A wind blew down the street, picking up snow that lingered in the branches of dormant trees. A child’s laugh rang clear as a bell down the street, and a lower echo came from behind her. “Aelin, you didn’t mention that you used to live in a literal winter wonderland.”

She turned to see her former college roommate and current best friend trying to catch one of the stray flakes on her tongue, more clinging to her chestnut curls, and couldn’t stop herself from smiling despite the hollow feeling in her chest. “Lysandra, I’m sure I complained to you literally every winter break about having to go back home to six feet of snow. There’s a reason I didn’t ask Aedion to pick us up at the train station.”

It was true; though it was no longer actively snowing, there was no way her cousin would’ve made it to the station to greet them. The snow must have only just ended recently, within the past half hour if she had to hazard a guess. No, even with each of them carrying a bag with them it had been safer to walk the short distance between the station and the house on the end of this lane.

The house had once been her uncle’s, and she had lived in that little house for more of her life than she hadn’t. She had moved in when she was only eight, after her parents had died, and she remembered standing on its porch for the first time as a terrified little girl.

Go on, Uncle Gavriel had said then, knowing it had been what she’d needed to hear at the time. It echoed in her mind as clearly as though he were standing behind her now, sensing her hesitation as an adult as readily as he had sensed her childish fear then.

Aelin shook her head, trying to clear the sound from her mind; he was gone now as well, just as her parents were. Aedion had called and written to her two years ago to confirm it, but she had only just started a new job at the time and had chosen to stay in Rifthold pursuing a career she had thought would mean everything. It had turned out that that job meant nothing in the end, but she couldn’t have known that at the time no matter how many times she laid awake at night wondering what had become of all of her dreams.

There was a lot she couldn’t have known then, she supposed.

Something cold and wet hit the back of her head and she gasped, whirling around to see Lysandra scooping more snow from the ground, mischief sparkling bright in her friend’s green eyes. “You’re thinking too hard!” she called, hands cupped together around a small mound of snow to compact it.

“Lysandra,” she tried, “that’s really not—”

The next ball of snow sprayed across her chest, flakes dusting her chin and cheeks as it exploded on impact. Lysandra doubled over, bracing her hands on her knees as she laughed. “Gods, but you should see your face!” she gasped between bouts of mirth.

Oh, it was on. Aelin carefully set her bag down beside her, slowly gathering her own mound of snow. “You have one chance to surrender,” she called back to her friend.

“Why would I do that? We came here to give you a break, Aelin, and I intend to deliver!”

Rather than throw the perfectly-shaped orb she now held in her hands, she set it beside her bag and began to form a second. “You would do that because you know how much I hate to lose,” she pointed out, “and you should know exactly what that’s going to mean for you. Last chance. Surrender.”

“Never!” her friend cried, and then it was on.

Within just a few short minutes both of their wool coats were completely soaked through, though they were still occasionally tossing snow at each other between fits of laughter and bouts of shivering. “Give up, and we can go get warm!” Aelin shouted.

“N-no!” Lysandra gasped. Time to play dirty, then.

Scooping a mound of snow in her left hand where her friend couldn’t see it, Aelin walked up to her…

And dumped the entire handful of snow down the back of her neck.

Lysandra shrieked, fingers clawing at the snow as it melted down her back. “You—”

“I win,” she interjected. “Say what you want, but we both know it.”

Without waiting for Lysandra to respond, she turned and lifted her bag again. This time, she didn’t hesitate as she walked down the lane to the house that stood at the end.

It hadn’t changed one bit from what she remembered, the tree where she’d first learned to climb still standing tall and proud in the center of a snowy yard. A sad-looking wreath was affixed to the door, and Aelin couldn’t help but smile at her cousin’s sorry effort at holiday cheer. If she had to guess, that was definitely a last-minute addition when she’d finally called him back and said she would come after all. She would have to find something lying around to fix it; she wasn’t sure how much of her old crafting supplies he’d kept, but she’d find something. She’d make do if she had to.

She was perhaps three doors away from the house that was her destination when her foot slipped on a patch of particularly slick snow—or perhaps it was already ice, it was hard to tell. With a gasp, she fell forward, and the air left her lungs as she fell on top of her bag. Well, maybe she’d looked like she’d been bracing herself on it for balance. With all the confidence she could muster, she picked herself up and took a single step forward into a firm obstacle that hadn’t been there earlier. Frowning, she glanced up, only to freeze when a pair of green eyes she’d long thought forgotten transported her back in time.

~*~*~

Aelin had just turned fourteen about a month before a new boy moved into the neighborhood, and the commotion was enough that she missed the baseball Aedion had just tossed her way. “Hey, do you have any idea who that is?” she asked him. “He looks like he’s maybe your age, you seen him around before?”

Aedion frowned thoughtfully. “No. He’s going into Maeve’s house. Didn’t think she had any relatives.”

“Oh. Well, maybe we’ll see him around at school? You probably more than me.” Not just because he was a boy, either; at sixteen, Aedion appeared to be closer in age to this newcomer than she was herself, unless she’d guessed terribly wrong. It was hard to guess, though, with his messy hair so light it almost looked silver in the morning sun.

“Maybe. Now are you going to throw that or what?”

Aelin laughed at the impatience of her cousin and obediently tossed the baseball in his direction for him to catch. “What do you think the story is?” she asked. “That’s way too much stuff for just a short visit. Do you think he’s…”

“Do I think he’s what?”

“Like me,” she said quietly. Alone, though she knew she couldn’t say as much to Aedion. She bit back a sigh. Really, she loved Aedion and Uncle Gavriel, and it had been so kind of them to take her in after her parents died, but sometimes…

She was better off not thinking about that right now. Maybe later, when she was alone with her journal and her playlists and her thoughts.

“Maybe,” Aedion replied. He tossed the ball back in her direction, and she caught it and threw it back. It went high, higher than her cousin could catch, and he swore and chased after it. While he was distracted, she took a moment to study the new boy. He was tall, probably even taller than Aedion, and that silvery hair that had caught her eye when she’d first noticed him was offset by lightly tanned skin that suggested he was coming from somewhere where the sun shone brighter and hotter.

He turned, then, and she was immediately drawn in by pine-green eyes before Aedion shoved her shoulder and broke their eye contact. “Hey, leave him be,” he was saying. “I know damn well you know it’s rude to stare.”

“Yeah,” Aelin muttered as he led her back toward the front door. When she turned her head to glance in the strange new boy’s direction again, he was gone.

~*~*~

“R-Rowan?” she stammered. “I thought you’d moved back to Doranelle years ago.” Not terribly long before she’d moved to Rifthold, in fact.

“I did,” he replied in that smooth rolling accent that had so captivated her from the moment they’d first spoken. “And then I moved back here, three years ago.”

“Oh. I see.” Gods, what was there to say after all these years? They’d barely spoken since high school, and had stopped exchanging even the most perfunctory of messages not long after. “How’s, um. Are you still with…?”

“Lyria? No,” he replied. “She… she’s gone. Passed not long before I left Doranelle.”

Oh. Well, shit. As much as she’d unreasonably disliked his girlfriend—his wife? She couldn’t remember now if they’d actually gotten married or not—she hadn’t intended to tread on what was obviously still a bad memory. “I’m sorry,” she managed.

He only shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “Aedion mentioned you stayed in Rifthold, after college. Haven’t come back since you graduated, right? Just like you said you would do.”

She shook her head, still stunned. “I haven’t. But Aedion convinced me to come back for Yulemas, so… here I am, I guess.”

“Here you are, indeed.” Though he still didn’t smile, there was the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I suppose it’ll get a little crowded around Aedion’s table for Yulemas dinner, then.”

Aelin blinked. “You celebrate with him?”

“Most years, yes. It keeps him from being alone, especially now that he and that guy of his have broken it off, and it keeps me… well, at least somewhat sane.”

She supposed that made some amount of sense, given his situation. If she’d expected to not have to spend the holidays alone ever again, and then was suddenly alone once more… well, that’s exactly why she was here now. What a mess.

A throat cleared behind her. “Aelin, you know this guy? Is everyone you know from here this hot?”

Aelin choked, and Rowan finally laughed. She couldn’t even be mad that it was absolutely at her expense, not when it had been so long since she’d heard the sound. “I’ve already answered that,” she replied. “Sorry. Rowan, this is Lysandra. We went to college together. Lysandra, um, this is Rowan. We—” Gods, what could she even say about him?

Thankfully, he stepped forward to fill her sudden silence—a far cry from the awkward teenager she’d once known. “I moved here in high school. We met then.”

“Well, I’m glad I got to meet you before we both awkwardly showed up to her cousin’s Yulemas dinner,” Lysandra smiled, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief at her friend’s easygoing charm. Lysandra made friends so easily wherever she went; she swore it was her skills at reading a room rather than any innate warmth, but Aelin knew better.

Rowan laughed, the sound awkward and stilted, and glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

High School Aelin would’ve immediately asked him what was wrong. She would’ve pressed and pressed and not taken no for an answer until this man that had once been her friend had given in and told her everything on his mind. High School Aelin had been so much more confident, though. She hadn’t let what happened to her break her, hadn’t lost faith in all the world had to offer.

Gods, she was getting maudlin and she hadn’t even gotten into the house yet. Maybe coming here had been a mistake, after all.

Finally, she spoke. “Well, um, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon, then.”

“Yeah—shit, hang on,” he interjected as he turned. “Callie, get away from the road.”

Aelin frowned. Callie? Who on earth—

A high-pitched tinkling laugh sounded in reply, and Rowan started jogging away. “Calista Rose Whitethorn, I shouldn’t have to tell you why that’s a bad idea!”

Lysandra shot her a questioning glance, and she only shrugged. Had Rowan found someone else, after Lyria? It was possible, she guessed, though she’d never met anyone around here by that name and people only rarely relocated to Orynth of all places. Maybe it was someone he’d met in Doranelle and brought here?

A little girl, perhaps four or five, ran toward him and tumbled into the snow that had reached her waist by this point. When she righted herself, shrieking with laughter, Aelin noticed her dirty blonde hair that had been clumsily braided back and her hazel eyes. What truly struck her, though, was the angular jaw and determined jut of her chin that was all Rowan.

She was still frozen in place as Rowan hefted the girl into his arms, scolding her for having run into the street with the air of someone who’d given the same lecture a hundred times before and didn’t expect the lesson to stick this time either.

Aelin should have been used to the sensation of the world crashing down around her by now. She had experienced it more times than anyone should be able to count, after all. The feeling never changed, either, from the time she first felt it when she was told her parents wouldn’t be coming home ever again all the way up until her most recent boyfriend had left her to move in with another girl just two weeks later.

The feeling may have never changed, but Aelin never stopped being surprised by it. This was proving to be no exception as Rowan returned to them, the little girl balanced on his hip and his gait adjusting smoothly to the additional weight. “Sorry,” he said as they approached and the little girl buried her face in his coat. “We’re in the phase where listening to grownups is lame and boring, it would seem.”

“I can’t say I blame her,” Aelin managed, hoping it sounded flippant and not as awkward as it felt. “I make a point of listening to as few adults as possible.” She couldn’t bring herself to ask. She wouldn’t.

Though she hadn’t asked, it appeared he was going to tell her anyway. “Aelin, the last thing I need is you encouraging my daughter.”

~*~*~

Though Aelin had done a good job forgetting about the new boy until school started, once they learned their lockers were near each other she had begun a campaign to befriend him. It had taken several weeks to penetrate an aloof shell to reveal a shy and painfully awkward boy who was just as alone as she was, and now she was glad to call him a friend. The fact that he was maybe her only friend except for Aedion only had a little bit to do with it.

Though the status of their relationship had firmly changed from “neighbors” to “friends”, Aelin had recently found herself wondering what it might be like to be more. She’d known, of course, that one day she’d start feeling these kinds of feelings for someone. Uncle Gavriel had been so thorough with “the talk” that she had wanted to shrivel up and die on the spot, but the lessons had stuck.

She had never expected that this boy would be the one that would captivate her so.

At first she had tried to ignore it. After all, he was two whole years older than her, and she was sure she was just some dumb fourteen-year-old kid to him for all they were friends. Besides, Uncle Gavriel had said these kinds of feelings didn’t usually last in high school. She just had to wait it out, and hope she didn’t die of embarrassment if he ever caught her staring at him.

Only it wasn’t going away, and she found herself wasting away entire hours daydreaming about his stupidly perfect hair and his stupidly perfect eyes. Maybe the best way out was to get it out of her system. The only downside to that option was that she would have to actually tell him, and the very idea of that was mortifying.

She was going to do it, though. That afternoon, she’d watched him walk down the hall and she’d just known somehow that this was her day. She just had to wait for the right moment.

The right moment, she knew, would come right at the end of the day when they were both at their lockers—her preparing for the walk home, him stowing his things away to get ready for practice. If he shot her down, she would have plenty of time away from school to lick her wounds in peace.

She watched as he approached, and was prepared to call his name in greeting when his gaze slid past her, eyes widening and jaw dropping slightly.

Gods, but that was how she wished he would look at her sometimes. Should she look too? She was sure it would kill her, but would it be worse not to know? It would have to be worse not to know, right?

She turned and glanced behind herself, and immediately she saw what—or who, rather—had captured his attention.

She couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but she’d seen her around before. She was one of the cheerleaders, chestnut brown curls pulled back in a high ponytail and brown eyes warm as she laughed with one of her friends.

Rowan must have finally reached her, and he quietly asked, “Who’s that? Do you know her?”

“No,” Aelin forced out before walking away like her entire world wasn’t ending.

~*~*~

Aelin wasn’t entirely sure how they managed to break away from Rowan—and his daughter, her mind supplied—and make it into Aedion’s house. Ever since he’d introduced her, her mind had been in a daze. Thankfully, she recalled that Lysandra had done most of the talking; hopefully she’d supplied some kind of excuse for her stupid friend who was in the process of having her world rocked yet again.

But they made it inside and hung their damp coats up to dry, and soon Aedion was guiding them toward the two guest rooms he’d set up for them. Lysandra slipped into hers immediately, citing exhaustion from the trip in a way that meant Aelin absolutely knew she was lying. Aelin, however, followed her cousin back out into the main living space.

“I’m glad you finally managed to make it back,” Aedion said before she could ask the questions that had been burning in her mind.

Aelin bristled at the implicit accusation. “I’ve been busy,” she snapped.

“Gods, Aelin, I’m not upset, okay?” He wrapped her up in a hug that had once been so familiar, and she couldn’t help but relax slightly at the memory. “I really am glad. I know you’ve been busy, and I’ve never blamed you for doing what you needed to do.”

Aelin bit her lip as he spoke the words she’d both longed for and feared. Before she could stop herself, she was confessing one of her darkest secrets to the only person she thought had a chance of understanding her. “What if I blame me?”

As soon as the words rushed out of her, she realized just how true they were. Gods, she was such a mess now in comparison to the girl she had been. She’d left all of this behind, all of her family and the place she’d been raised, and for what? A job she hated in a city she despised, where she’d be working every day with a guy who couldn’t even do her the decency of pretending he hadn’t left her for another coworker? I can’t go back, she’d told herself every day. She’d told herself it was because she was living for the future, but it was becoming evident why she’d actually done it.

If she stayed here for too long, she wouldn’t want to go back to her job and her city and her life.

As nice as it would be, and as willing as Aedion seemed to be to help her with such a transition, she couldn’t come back. Especially not now.

Aedion was talking again, and she struggled to give him her attention. “—blame you, then that’s a different story. I can’t stop you from blaming yourself. But I have a feeling you don’t actually want to have that conversation right now.”

That part was true, at least. “You didn’t mention it wouldn’t be just the three of us on Yulemas,” she said quietly.

He stiffened. “Would you have come if I had?”

“Yes.” Aelin scowled and thought about it more. “No. I don’t know.”

Aedion chuckled. “So decisive. That’s why I didn’t bring it up. You were going through enough when you called as it was.”

“You could’ve at least warned me he was back. Or that he has a kid. Gods, I looked like such an idiot.”

When she looked up at her cousin he was grinning. “So, maybe not as over him as you thought?”

“Aedion!” she shouted, angry and humiliated at his casual mention of her stupid childhood crush. “Of course I am, I was just… surprised. I thought he was still in Doranelle with his…” she vaguely waved her hand in the air, realizing that she still wasn’t sure exactly what Lyria had been to Rowan in the end.

“You really did break off contact with everyone, didn’t you?” he asked, voice soft and eyes softer.

“You were the only one I spoke with at all,” she confessed. “There is—was—is nothing left for me here.”

He frowned. “You know that’s not true.”

“It is true, cousin. It has to be.” And even if it wasn’t true, it wasn’t as if she could simply change everything now.

Aedion sighed. “Well. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me, right?”

She tugged him into a hug before grabbing her coat. “I do.”

“Where are you going? It’ll be dark soon,” he cautioned.

“I know. I’ll be back soon.” Before he could say anything else, she slipped out of the front door, feet leading her to a particular destination.

The little park across the neighborhood stood empty just as it always had, a remnant from when more children had lived here. It had proved a godsend when Aelin entered her teenage years; every time living as the only girl in a house full of boys had gotten to be too much, she had slipped away to this little spot. She had done homework on the little picnic table that was somehow still standing, she had danced and run and laughed in the little field, but mostly she had sat in the grass—or the snow—and watched the little pond.

It was too small to be a good skating pond, even in the coldest part of winter. But there was something so peaceful about this little spot anyway that Aelin had never minded. Besides, if it had been better for skating there might have been more demand on the little area, and she didn’t like to share.

Rowan knew where it was, of course; he had once known almost everything there was to know about her. She wondered if he still came here every now and again, if he brought his daughter to see the pond and feed whatever fish still lived in it.

If he had, there was no sign of it now. The morning’s snow had blanketed everything, wiping away every trace that may have lingered. Now it was a place where she could be alone with her thoughts, and try to come to terms with everything that had been revealed in such a short time.

~*~*~

“Wait, so you’re not going to ask her to the homecoming dance? Why not?” Aelin could hardly believe her ears. After the past three days of hearing nothing but talk of that pretty brunette girl from the hall, maybe he’d finally gotten it all out of his system and they could go back to normal.

“Are you kidding, Aelin? I wouldn’t even know where to start.” He sighed, troubled green eyes staring out over the pond.

Aelin carefully schooled her face into a frown, though her stupid heart was leaping for joy. “Why not?”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t even be able to say hi. I suck at talking to girls.”

“I’m a girl,” she pointed out irritably.

“Yeah, but you’re different,” Rowan argued. “You’re not…”

“What?” Aelin demanded. “What, exactly, am I not that she apparently is?” Gods, just a week ago she would’ve longed to hear him saying she was different, but now… Now it was hitting differently, and she didn’t like it at all.

Finally realizing her sudden annoyance, Rowan began to mumble. “You know.”

“No, I don’t,” she said, tone sickeningly sweet to her own ears. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Gods, Aelin, you don’t have to be such a—”

No. No matter what his next word was going to be, she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not from him. Never from him. “If you’re going to yell at me, get out of my spot,” she snapped. “I was here first.”

He frowned, but something in her expression must have convinced him that this wasn’t a fight worth having right now because rather than snap back he sighed. “See, this is what I mean. I’d only mess it up. You’re already stuck with me.”

If only he knew how true that was. “I guess.”

“Hey,” he said, turning fully so his whole body was facing her rather than just his face. “It’s like you said yourself, we orphans need to stick together.”

She couldn’t even be nearly as mad as she should be at him throwing her own words back in her face. Gods, how pathetic. Finally, she asked, “So, if you’re not going to ask her to the dance, what are you doing instead?”

“What, me? I wasn’t going to go in the first place.” That sounded more like the Rowan she knew, avoiding large events and crowds as much as possible. The boy she had come to befriend tended to stay on the outskirts of any group, quietly observing rather than her own tendency to jump right in.

“But what were you going to do?” she pressed on.

He smiled, though there was something almost wistful about it that made her heart melt all over again. “Assuming you’ll allow it and I’m not actually kicked out, I was going to come here. Enjoy the peace and quiet. Maybe with my only friend, if she’s not going to be the life of the party out there.”

Aelin smiled. “Maybe she’d rather spend time with her only friend than go out, anyway.”

~*~*~

Aelin shook her head as though the motion would dislodge the memory. She had already stayed longer than she’d intended, and the sun had long since set. It was past time that she leave.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and when she checked it she had received a message from Lysandra. OMG, her friend had typed.

She smiled and replied. ????

You didn’t ever tell me your cousin was HOT. Where are you, anyway?

Her smile immediately turned into a scowl. Ew, Lys. That’s my COUSIN, I definitely don’t think he’s hot. He looks like me.

Yeah, maybe, if you were a hunky guy with shoulder muscles for DAYS.

Let’s skip the poetry about Aedion’s muscles, please. I’d like to sleep sometime tonight.

Just tell me if he’s single and we’re good.

I think so, when he invited me he said he’d just broken up with his boyfriend.

Boyfriend????

Aelin grinned. Problem?

Of course not! But does he only go for guys, or…?

Why don’t you ask him?

OMG Aelin you can’t just ask a guy if he’s gay. She could just imagine the scandalized look on Lysandra’s face, and she laughed before replying again.

I mean, I have.

And that’s why I’m the social one and not you.

Ugh, fine. He’s bi.

YESSSSS.

A noise attracted Aelin’s attention then, and she slipped her phone back into her pocket without replying so she could pay closer attention.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” a little girl asked, in a tone that made it obvious she was trying to be quiet but had absolutely no concept of how a whisper could actually be louder than speech when said the wrong way.

She couldn’t quite stop herself from shivering at the accented baritone of Rowan’s reply, though if asked she would immediately blame the cold weather. “That’s Aelin, sweetheart. We met her earlier, remember?”

“Oh. She looks sad.”

Rowan sighed. “Baby girl,” he started to reply, but the child—Callie, her name was Callie—was already darting over to her, a string of faerie lights dragged along in her wake.

Finally, her tiny little legs took her to the bench where Aelin was sitting, and hazel eyes were peering up at her seriously. Aelin blinked. “Um, hi. Callie, right?”

The girl grinned and nodded. “And your name is A… Ae…” Her little face screwed up as she struggled with Aelin’s name, likely due to the tooth that was missing from her smile.

Despite herself, Aelin found herself smiling back. “My name is Aelin, but you can say A if that’s too hard right now.”

Callie’s attention had already gone elsewhere, and with all the energy the gods had seen to give small children she was now attempting to detangle the string of lights she’d dragged through the snow. She seemed to only be making the snarl worse, but the look of determination on her face was so very Rowan that Aelin couldn’t bring herself to interfere. “Daddy said we can put lights up,” she explained.

Rowan finally caught up then, breathless as he tugged the girl into himself. “Calista Rose, what have we said about running off and introducing ourselves to strangers?” he asked, before turning his gaze on Aelin. “Gods, Aelin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for us to—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, surprised to find that it was the truth. Maybe she’d finally gone crazy, but dealing with Rowan’s daughter sounded far preferable to listening to Lysandra drool over Aedion.

“Yeah, Daddy!” Callie exclaimed, and Aelin laughed at the sight of her lecturing her own father, hands on her little hips. “And she’s not a stranger, you said she’s your friend,” she accused.

Panicked green eyes met hers then, and Rowan grimaced, clearly trying to decide how best to answer. Surprising herself yet again, Aelin spared him from his struggle. “We became friends a looooong time ago,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He might’ve forgotten. Y’know, cause he’s so old.”

She met Rowan’s glare with a wink as Callie considered this information, hand on her chin in a gesture of deep thought. “He is old,” she allowed finally. “Really old.”

“Gee, thanks,” Rowan grumbled. “Anyhow, we can leave if—”

Callie interrupted with a whine. “But Daaaaaad, you promised!”

“Well,” Aelin replied as she pretended to consider the dilemma. “I can’t have you breaking promises to your own daughter. That sounds awful. I guess we’ll just have to help her put lights up.”

Rowan finally smiled as Callie cheered, promptly making an even bigger mess of her little string of lights. “Thank you,” he said softly before turning to help the little girl detangle the lights.

Once the job was done, Aelin carefully took one end of the lights. “So, where are we putting these?”

Callie immediately pointed at the table, dragging the lights over and starting to wrap them around one of the legs of the table in a way that could only make sense to a child her age. Aelin carefully dropped the other end of the lights and let the girl work, taking a few steps back to talk quietly to Rowan.

“Why’d you come back?” he finally asked, quietly.

She sighed. “I had to get away, at least for a little while. I didn’t really have anywhere else to go, after…”

After she’d realized her job at Havilliard Industries had stolen her soul, chewed it up, and spat it out. After Chaol had left her for Nesryn. There was no way she’d be able to put those into words, though, so instead she finished with, “I just needed a break, I guess.”

“I guess I can understand that,” he replied slowly. “We moved here after Lyria died. There was nothing left for Callie in Doranelle, and I needed to find a place where I would have the time to take care of her. Orynth… it fit.”

“So, what do you do now?” she asked.

“You’ll laugh.”

“I promise I won’t. Here, I’ll go first. I got a marketing job, of all things. Not what I thought I’d be doing in the big city, for sure.”

“I run the local flower shop,” he finally admitted. “Not what I thought I’d be doing when I got out of the service.”

That was right; she vaguely recalled he had enlisted in Wendlyn’s military for a while. “Maybe not, but… it fits, right? It’s what you needed.”

He nodded before turning his gaze back to the child that was now running around the table to pick up the other end of the string of lights. “It is.”

“How is she going to light those?” she asked, curious. “There’s no power anywhere nearby.”

Rowan grinned. “Then it’s a good thing I gave her a string of battery-powered lights, isn’t it?”

Aelin laughed. “I guess so. How old is she, anyway?”

“Almost five. She’ll be in school this time next year.” A strange mix of pride and terror crossed his face then.

Before Aelin could ask him about it, Callie burst into a fit of triumphant laughter and turned the lights on, illuminating the area around the table with the soft glow of faerie lights. “Pretty!” she cried.

“It is!” Aelin called, before speaking again to Rowan more quietly. “Really takes you back, doesn’t it? Decorating this old place.”

“We do it every year,” he admitted quietly. “Ever since we moved back.”

And just like that, Aelin’s whole world changed again.

~*~*~

“Come on!” she shouted as she dragged Rowan along behind her, a thrill in her chest from the sensation of her own hand wrapped around his wrist. “Hurry up!”

“Where are we going?” he demanded.

“To the park, come on! It’s Yulemas, you’ve got to see this!”

They finally reached the table by the pond, and he crossed his arms across his chest as she finally dropped his hand. “Thanks, Aelin. It looks exactly like it did yesterday.”

“Ugh! Boys.” Aelin shook her head before digging in the bag she’d brought with her and finding the little candles she’d tucked into it.

“What?”

“It’s not about what it is now,” she insisted. “It’s about what it can be. This is maybe the prettiest place in all of Orynth. Even prettier than Main Street.”

“Given how excited you were to drag me to each and every storefront to appreciate the lights from different angles, you’ll have to forgive me for doubting that you actually like this better.”

“Please, it’s not like you were doing anything better that weekend.” It was true; Rowan had never worked up the nerve to talk to that cheerleader girl after all, and their friendship had mostly recovered from that fight they’d had here two months before. “Now help me out,” she demanded.

“What are we even doing?”

“Making a place for these candles.” Carefully, with his help, they leveled off the snow that had gathered on top of the picnic table, and she placed the little tealight candles around the table with a few sprigs of holly.

“Is this even safe?” he asked, though he kept helping anyway, obediently placing candles where she pointed.

“Of course it’s safe! These blow themselves out before they would hurt anything, and it’s not like we’re going to just leave them.” Aelin dug in her bag for the lighter she’d snuck out of Uncle Gavriel’s kitchen, grinning as Rowan’s eyes went wide with nerves.

“Wait, you’re seriously going to light them? Where did you even get that?”

“From Uncle Gavriel. Please, like you’ve never borrowed anything from Aunt Maeve.”

“I’m pretty sure Aunt Maeve would kill me if I took something like that,” he replied seriously. “Look, if we’re actually going to do this, maybe I should…”

“Nope! This is the best part!” Aelin carefully went around the table, lighting each and every candle they’d set out. “Okay. Now sit down and just look at it.”

Rowan obeyed, though he still looked skeptical. “It looks like candles on a table.”

“If you look at them just right, it’s like they’re glimmering out on the ice,” she replied as she joined him. “Do you see it yet?”

From her place beside him, she could tell the moment he finally let himself take in the whole scene. “I guess it’s nice,” he allowed.

“Ugh, you don’t have to be such a boy about it. It’s okay to like things, you know.”

“I know.”

And they sat in silence after that, watching candlelight flicker on the snowy picnic table until each tiny candle blinked back into darkness.

~*~*~

Despite everything that being back in Orynth was stirring up, Aelin woke up the next morning with a smile. As complicated as this place was for her, something about the way the morning sun hit the soft snow blanketing the yard never failed to bring her at least a few moments of peace.

It only rarely snowed in Rifthold, and never to the extent that it regularly did here. Aelin hadn’t seen a setting like the one that was waiting outside her window in years now, and she found she missed it. Of all the complications that Orynth meant to her, this had never been one of them.

Perhaps she’d be able to convince Lysandra to play in the snow later.

Quickly, she got dressed in the layers that living in Orynth required, leggings under her jeans and a sweater over a long sleeved shirt, before slipping down the hall in sock-clad feet. Both of the other bedrooms were completely silent, but she heard noises from the kitchen, so she went to investigate.

It was for the best, really. She was a terrible cook, and if Aedion was awake she could probably con him into making eggs and bacon before her day of frolicking in the snow. She turned the corner into the kitchen…

And froze in the entryway.

Aedion was at the counter next to the stove, wearing his typical morning outfit of plaid pajama pants and a worn shirt. That in itself wasn’t nearly enough to give her pause. But the leg thrown over his hip and the husky laugh of his companion absolutely was. Damn, but Lysandra moved fast. Had she even slept the night in her own guest bed?

She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to know either. It was time to make a quick escape.

Her boots were still beside the door from where she had kicked them off after returning from her unexpected evening with both Rowan and his child. It was the work of a few short minutes to tug them back onto her feet and slip out of the front door, tugging on her coat and winding a scarf around her neck.

High-pitched laughter met her once she had closed the door, and a glance down the lane revealed little Callie having stumbled into a snowbank, large flakes sticking to the twin braids that contained her dirty blonde hair this morning. Rowan wasn’t far behind her, and he was doing his best to hide the grin on his face as he offered to help her free of the snow.

The little girl pulled herself free, only to immediately fall back onto her rear on the sidewalk. The motion had spun her around until she was facing where Aelin stood, and as soon as she saw her she was up again, running toward her and screaming, “Miss A! Miss A!”

Aelin laughed at the child’s enthusiasm, warmed by it in spite of herself. “What are you up to today?”

Callie pointed back at the yard from which she’d run. “Snowman!”

Sure enough, there was a sad little mound of snow standing in the center of the yard. “Are you doing it yourself, or is your dad helping?”

“I’m doing it,” she declared proudly. “I’m not done yet.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you from finishing it,” Aelin said, tweaking one of the girl’s braids.

“Watch me!” she shouted as she ran back toward her own yard and her father.

Well, it was definitely a better idea for her morning than being a third wheel for her friend and her cousin. Mind made up, she marched down the lane behind Callie, much to Rowan’s evident surprise.

“Surely you have better things to do than let my daughter drag you around for your entire vacation,” he said quietly once she reached him.

Aelin shrugged. “My friend and my cousin are probably getting it on in the kitchen. I had to get away.”

“Fair enough.” He grimaced. “I can’t say I’d want to stay for that either.”

And as they watched, Callie determinedly dragged handful after handful of snow to her little mound. “She… does know about rolling a snowball around to make it bigger, right?” Aelin asked.

“Shh. If she does it this way she might actually take her nap today.” Rowan was fighting a grin as he said it. “And if she actually naps, I might be able to finish wrapping presents.”

“Ah.” Not to mention, it was kind of adorable to watch her struggle so much.

Finally, the mound had reached a height Callie seemed to deem acceptable, and she had sculpted it into three rough sections. She darted back to the front porch where a handful of supplies were waiting, tossing a scarf around the snowman’s neck before crying in dismay as the carrot nose flew across the yard and into a deep snowbank.

Aelin took a deep breath and looked at Rowan, expression solemn. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” she said.

He frowned. “Do what?”

“Dive headfirst into a snowbank, of course.” She was doing her best to keep a straight face, but she suspected she was failing miserably by this point.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said immediately, pine-green eyes wary. “In fact, you have a choice available to you that is specifically not doing that.”

“Nope,” she declared. “It’s too late. I’m doing it.”

There was still a small hole where the carrot had entered the snow. If she moved quickly enough this would be easy. “Stay back,” she warned daughter and father alike as she took a few steps back to give herself a running start.

Then she launched herself into the snow with a shout.

~*~*~

Aelin shrieked with laughter as she tumbled off of the sled and into a deep snowbank, giggling as she heard a concerned shout from the top of the hill. Trust Rowan to be a complete worrywart. She was fine; she was better than fine, even. She was high on the thrill of the sled ride and the snow and this time spent with him. In moments like these, she was positive that nothing could bring her down.

A hand dug into the snow beside her, clearly trying to help her up, but instead she took it and tugged Rowan down into the snow beside her, laughing even harder. “Gods, Rowan, your face!”

“Why do you have to be like this?” he demanded. “You terrified me, you know that? I was so afraid that you’d hit your head and I’d have to explain this to your uncle. Or worse, explain it to my aunt.”

“I’m fine!” she assured him.

He ran his hands over her head anyway, clearly checking for any kind of head injury, and she couldn’t hide the shiver from the feel of his hands on her. “Gods, Aelin, you’re freezing! We’ve got to get you out of here.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, though even to her own ears the words sounded less certain. Maybe she’d hit her head after all, and this was an elaborate fantasy her dizzy and delirious mind had concocted. Or maybe he was going to keep touching her and she’d combust on the spot.

“Come on, Aelin, please,” he pleaded. Gods, he had to know she would do anything for him if he asked her like that. He had to know, and was obviously using it against her right now. There was no other explanation, unless this was all some kind of crazy dream.

She had to try. She had to know.

She reached out a trembling hand toward his face, half-buried in the snow beside her own. Would he let her do this if it wasn’t a dream? What if he did let her touch him? What would happen next?

But it turned out that he didn’t let her after all, instead taking advantage of her outstretched hand to tug her free of the pile of snow. She swayed, dizzy from the sudden change from lying in the snow to standing on her feet, and stumbled into him.

He brushed the remaining snow off her shoulders, glancing at her hair before obviously deciding that was a lost cause. “I think your hat’s still in the snow,” he said quietly. “How mad’s your uncle going to be if you lose it?”

“I can get it,” she protested, but he reached into the snow instead, letting out a soft noise of triumph when he found it. Carefully, he brushed the loose snow off of it and tugged it back onto her head.

“There,” he said. “Good as new, like nothing even happened.”

As they walked back to Uncle Gavriel’s house, those words echoed in her mind over and over. Nothing even happened. Nothing even happened. Nothing even happened.

~*~*~

Aelin jerked herself out of the memory and held the carrot aloft with a triumphant shout. “Got it!”

When she emerged from the snow, it was to the gleeful cheering of a four-year-old and a bemused smile from said four-year-old’s father. “Thanks, Miss A!” Callie shouted, bounding over to take the carrot back from her.

“Miss A?” she asked quietly as Rowan made his way over to them.

Rowan shrugged. “I didn’t tell her to call you that. That was all her.”

“Well, she’s certainly more polite than you ever were,” Aelin teased, watching as Callie carefully centered the carrot in the top part of her snow mound and pressed it in.

“Very funny,” he grumbled. “How long are you staying? I just realized I never asked.”

“I’m leaving the day after Yulemas.” Gods, but it felt awkward to say, throwing in his face that soon she would be walking right back out of their lives forever.

Rowan nodded. “Listen, usually on the night before I send Callie over to Aedion’s to spend the night, so I can finish setting everything up. Then we all come back to mine for Yulemas morning. I know you’re both staying in his spare bedrooms right now, but…”

“Yes?” She leaned closer as his voice got quieter.

“If you wanted to spend one night in my guest room instead, it would keep her routine uninterrupted. I know it’s a lot to ask, but—”

“I’ll do it,” she said. “It’s just one night, right? And that little girl needs the best Yulemas ever.”

Rowan chuckled, clearly relieved. “That’s a pretty high bar. She wore herself out inside an hour last year.”

“I’m sure we can manage it. Have you decorated yet? I can help—”

He cut her off with a gloved hand over her mouth, mirth shining bright in his eyes. “I’ve already decorated, yes, but I’m positive it’s not yet to your satisfaction. If you want to do more while you’re over, I won’t stop you.”

Heat slammed into Aelin’s face at his words, and she fought to keep the blush off of her face. She supposed she could just blame the cold if she failed, though. As she pulled his hand away from her face, she forced a smile. “It’s settled, then. I’ll go into town today and make sure I’ve got everything I need.” Gods, what was she doing? She needed to take it back, needed to apologize and say she couldn’t do it after all, not dig herself deeper into the hole.

“Thank you,” he said, and she was lost just as readily as she had been as a teenager. Fuck, but she was in trouble.

“Speaking of, actually, I should probably get going.” She glanced back at Aedion’s house. “They’re probably still going at it, and I haven’t eaten. I figured I’d stop by that little café on the corner of Main Street.”

“We can go with you, if you want,” he offered, but she was already shaking her head.

“I appreciate it,” she said, and she meant it. “But she should be able to finish her work here, and if I go alone I can find a few surprises to decorate with.”

He nodded, and she left as quickly as was polite. Once she had turned the corner at the other end of the lane, she pulled her phone out and sent a message to Lysandra.

SOS. Let me know when you’re done banging my cousin, I need girl talk.

She had just reached the little café and seated herself at a small table when her phone buzzed with Lysandra’s reply.

OMG I’m so sorry I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.

Aelin smiled despite herself. I’ll forgive you if you help me now.

This wouldn’t have anything to do with that cute guy we ran into our first day, would it?

LYS. But yes.

What’s stopping you? We’re here for a week and a half, you might as well enjoy it. Was that… Yes, that was an emoji waggling its eyebrows. What the hell, Lysandra.

He has a child, Lys. That complicates it, doesn’t it?

Not if you don’t want it to. I’m not saying you need to elope with the guy, just jump him and get it over with.

You mean like you did?

Harsh. But seriously, it’s Yulemas. Maybe it’ll all work out.

Lysandra, this is not one of your silly Yulemas movies where a girl goes back to her hometown and some muscled guy in plaid teaches her the meaning of the season with his magical healing dick.

Why not? I don’t see anything stopping you but you.

Aelin sighed, giving up on the conversation for a moment as she ordered eggs and coffee. Before long, though, she was back on her phone.

One more thing. What the hell do four year olds like for Yulemas?

Girl you are GONE on this guy, aren’t you? Where are you? I’ll meet you and we can shop together.

That was probably the least painful way this could go, though she was sure to be embarrassed beyond belief by the end of the day. Gods, and she would have to explain their entire history to her friend.

She hadn’t talked about Rowan when she went off to college. She’d left him behind the same as she had everyone else in Orynth. It had felt like the only way to move on, as much as it had hurt at the time and as awkward as it would be now to come clean.

That conversation was likely to happen anyway at this point, but she could at least make sure it was near neither Rowan nor Aedion. Mind made up, she texted Lysandra back with the address of the café and let the waitress know she would have a friend joining her.

As she waited, stirring sugar into her coffee cup, Aelin allowed her mind to wander as it had been so wont to do from the moment they set foot in Orynth.

~*~*~

“You’re never going to believe what happened today,” Rowan said as they began their walk home from school, winding their scarves tight against the early spring chill.

“Aedion finally asked out that boy in your English class,” she guessed.

“What? No. At least, I don’t think he did.”

“That’s a bummer,” she replied. “That means I’ll have to keep hearing Aedion talk about whether or not to do it. Um, Elide finally lost it on that guy in homeroom?” That was a longer shot by far; Elide was one of the sweetest girls Aelin knew, with the patience of a saint.

Rowan snorted. “He’d have it coming if she did. But no.”

Aelin frowned, brows furrowing in thought. “I guess I’m stuck,” she said as they turned a corner. “Fine, I give up. What is it?”

He smiled. “Okay, so we got assigned this group project in history class. You know, the usual thing, pick a topic from the list and do a presentation about it.”

“Okay, but that’s not exactly newsworthy. You guys get projects all the time,” she pointed out, bending down to pick a crocus from the side of the road. She probably shouldn’t be plucking flowers from the community gardens, but she just couldn’t stop herself from picking the first of the crocuses she saw in the spring. The flower itself was nothing special; she far preferred the kingsflame that bloomed later in the season. But it symbolized the turning of the seasons, and for that alone she appreciated it.

Sure enough, when she looked back at Rowan he was frowning. “Are you sure you’re allowed to do that?”

“No. So what happened with this project?” she asked, wanting his attention on the story and not on her tendency toward petty misdemeanors related to flowers.

His ears turned pink, and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Gods, she had thought they were past this. She had just begun to hope, to think she might possibly have the slightest chance with him. Now it looked like all of those hopes were about to be dashed.

Sure enough, his next words confirmed her worst fears. “It’s in partners, and Lyria got assigned as my partner. We’re going to be meeting about it after school tomorrow.”

“Oh. That’s… that’s good, right?” It wasn’t good, not at all, but Aelin had just been forcibly reminded of her place in his life. She was his friend, and friends encouraged each other, right? She could do this, even if it killed her.

“That’s very good. I know it’s just about the project, but maybe she’ll like me, you know?” He bit his lip, and judging from the color it was far from the first time that afternoon he’d done so.

“I don’t see why she wouldn’t,” Aelin said honestly. “I mean, you’re… you’re you,” she finished, knowing as she said it just how lame the words sounded.

It seemed to be encouraging enough for Rowan, though, because he smiled at her. “Thanks, Aelin. You’re a good friend.”

And just like that, Aelin’s already-delicate heart shattered.

~*~*~

The rest of the week passed by in a snowy blur, and soon it was the night before Yulemas. She had just vacated the guest room she’d been staying in to allow for Callie to go through her Yulemas tradition of staying with Aedion, and her heart felt like it had lodged in her throat as she knocked on Rowan’s door.

Her breath caught right alongside her heart when he opened the door, wearing a shirt that looked almost impossibly soft with sleeves short enough to reveal the swirling marks of a dark tattoo along his left arm. “Um,” Aelin began. “Aedion’s getting Callie to wind down now. When did you get that?” With the hand that wasn’t holding her bags of decorations and of clothing, she gestured at the marks.

He let her in and closed the door behind her before answering. “After Lyria died,” he said quietly. “It’s in the Old Language of Wendlyn, and it tells both her story and my shame.”

“Shame?” Gods, Aelin shouldn’t be asking this of him. Their newly-rekindled friendship was on shaky enough ground as it was.

Rowan answered anyway. “After we married, but before we had Callie… we weren’t in a good place. I’d joined the military, which I know you know about, and she hated that I could be away for months at a time. We… fought. A lot. So I stayed away longer and longer, only coming back for short leaves here and there. Then we learned we were having a child, and… I couldn’t be there for the birth. She left then, but six months later she was involved in a car accident. I was due to re-enlist then, but I retired instead and took charge of Callie. We moved here not long after.”

“Gods, I’m so sorry,” Aelin replied. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“What about you?” he asked. “What have you been up to in Rifthold?”

This was it. This was what she hadn’t talked about with anyone here, with the exception of Lysandra. She sighed. “Honestly, right now I kind of hate it,” she said, hoping he would leave it at that.

Of course, for once he decided to press further. “What’s so bad about it?”

Just like that, the words began pouring out of her as though they were back in school and she was once more spilling her problems to her closest friend. “I hate my job,” she confessed. “I thought it would be fun and exciting, but… not to mention, my last boyfriend was also a coworker, and so is his new girlfriend, so I have to see them every godsdamned day and pretend like they just moved quickly when they moved in two weeks after he left me. But… I can’t just leave. That would be letting them all win.”

“And we all know how Aelin Galathynius feels about letting other people win.” Where once those words would’ve sounded angry, Rowan must have learned to better hide his feelings. Now the sentence was carefully devoid of emotion, letting her judge the words at face value rather than responding defensively to his tone.

“Maybe Aelin doesn’t know anymore,” she admitted. “But I didn’t come here to talk about all of this, I came here to help you decorate.”

He finally let it drop then, and she walked into their living area.

There was certainly room to place other decorations along the mantle and the stairs, but the Yulemas tree was absolutely stunning. Strings of soft white lights made the branches glow and the ornaments glimmer in shades of the traditional red and gold. On the lower branches, Callie must have helped to decorate, for the placement was haphazard and the ornaments were less fragile and more child-approved.

Rowan chuckled behind her, and she belatedly realized she was just staring at the tree like an idiot who wanted a life she couldn’t have. “The tree is perfect,” she finally managed.

“Really? Because I thought you were going to say the tree looks like it was decorated by a four-year-old and her helpless father. Which is true,” he said with a smile. “But it’s been working for us.”

“It’s perfect,” she declared. “I bet Callie loved helping.”

“That she did,” he laughed. “So, what did you bring with you?”

She grinned, tugging out strands of faerie lights and red ribbons and garlands made to look like pine. “I wondered for maybe five minutes if you’d have a mantle to put all this on, but this is Orynth. If you don’t have a fireplace, winter is suffering.”

“Some of us like the cold,” he replied.

“And some of us are wrong,” she retorted. “Now help me get the lights on this garland.”

About an hour later, more soft white lights were gleaming from the mantle and wrapped around the handrail of the staircase. They had placed a garland over the mantle, and more sprigs of pine and holly were scattered around the room in little wreaths and sprays. “There,” she said as she flopped on the couch. “Now it’s perfect.”

“It is.” He sat beside her, and she turned to see his eyes on her, pine green glimmering in the soft faerie lights.

Aelin glanced away and swallowed, trying to rid herself of the lump that had suddenly caught in her throat. Gods, Teenaged Aelin had dreamed and pined for a moment like this, and now that it was within her reach she wasn’t sure what to do with it. It had been so long, so many years and so much distance standing between them, and yet some soft lighting and a softer look in his eyes had her melting as though no time at all had passed.

It had been over ten years since the moment Aelin had come to the decision to let Rowan go, but now she found herself wondering once more what it would be like to finally close the gap between them and let herself have what she’d always wanted.

~*~*~

“Where are you going to go?” Aelin asked from her perch on Rowan’s bed as he packed.

“After graduation, you mean?” He neatly folded some more shirts into a box. “I’m going back to Wendlyn. I can’t stay here forever, you know.”

“Oh.” Maybe she could figure out a way to get to Wendlyn too. He was graduating soon and would be leaving soon thereafter, but she only had two more years of school left herself. Maybe she could look at universities in Wendlyn, see if she could—

“I’m going to ask Lyria to come with me,” he said, and just like that the fragile dream shattered.

It had been so easy, in the two years they had been dating now, to pretend as though nothing had changed between Rowan and his cheerleader girlfriend. Rowan was always so careful to still make time for Aelin, even though it was less time than before, and the couple seemed to avoid public displays of affection for the most part. But Rowan was still in love with a girl who wasn’t Aelin, and no amount of pretending on her part would stop this from happening. There would be no Rowan-and-Aelin, taking on Wendlyn by storm. There would just be Aelin, left behind and left all alone forever as a pretty brunette with warm brown eyes took everything she had ever wanted for herself.

“Do you think she’ll go?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound as tight as her throat felt.

“I hope so,” he sighed. “I know it’s a lot to ask, I won’t exactly be around for the first six months or so.”

“What? Why not?”

He turned to face her, pine-green eyes as serious as she had ever seen them. “I’m enlisting in Wendlyn’s military.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good, right? If that’s what you want to do, I mean.”

“It is.” And it would be a good fit for him, too, this quiet and serious boy before her. “Lyria isn’t sure she likes it, but she said I should go for it if it’s what I really want.”

“She’s right, you know. You should. I mean, it’s your entire future, right? You’d just regret it if you let someone talk you out of it.”

He nodded slowly. “And I’m sure she’ll understand. It’s an adjustment right now, but after training we’ll be able to stay together if we’re married. I’ve been asking around.”

Gods. Not only was he asking her to move to be with him, he was thinking of proposing to Lyria. “That’s a big step, isn’t it?” she managed to say around the tightening in her throat.

“It is. I’m still thinking about it. But…” his voice trailed off as he picked up one of the pictures of her that decorated his desk.

But he was going to do it. He was going to marry his high school sweetheart. Aelin was sure she would say yes.

And now it was time for Aelin to let go of anything she’d hoped and dreamed would come to pass.

~*~*~

Aelin laid on top of Rowan beside the Yulemas tree, his fingers skimming over the bare skin over her spine, and wondered how on earth she’d gotten to be so lucky.

She didn’t know if it was the look in his eyes or the play of soft white light over his face, but she’d found herself leaning in toward him. Unbeknownst to her, he had been doing the same thing, and before she’d been able to stop and think their lips had met.

It had been absolute heaven. Rowan had kissed her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, soft and tender and dizzying, and before long she had thrown herself at him and slid her hands under that shirt that had turned out to be exactly as soft as it had looked. He had been surprised for a moment, but soon enough he had responded in kind and then they were on the floor beside the tree, her shirt tossed across the room somewhere and his own underneath her.

Aelin could have cried in bliss, the moment he’d pressed himself inside of her. The weight and size of him had been perfection beyond words, and all too soon she had been shuddering into a peak of sensation beneath him despite wishing the moment could have lasted forever.

His own peak had rushed along behind hers, but rather than get up he had simply rolled them so he was supporting her weight as they pressed together. Now he was tracing random patterns along bare skin, looking up at her as though he was seeing something he’d never imagined before. She supposed perhaps he was.

She languidly stretched above him, humming as the motion reawakened the pleasant ache between her thighs. He smiled in reply, his free hand finding its way into her hair, and she happily snuggled into his chest once more, reveling in the sensation.

She wasn’t sure how long they spent like that, cuddled together beside the tree, before her own voice broke the comfortable silence. “I got both of you Yulemas presents,” she revealed with a kiss to his shoulder that sent a thrill through her.

He blinked, rising up onto his elbows, and she rolled to the side to allow him to sit up. “You did?”

She nodded, and from the heat in her face she could tell she was blushing. “I did. I hope you like them, I’ve never really had to shop for a kid before—”

“No.”

Aelin froze where she sat. “What?”

When she looked over at him, his expression was hard, eyes that had been so warm just moments before like ice. “You heard me. No.”

“I don’t understand,” she confessed. What had she done wrong? They had been so happy just moments before.

“You can come back here and play pretend for a little while before you go right back to Rifthold and leave this all behind forever if you want,” he replied. “I certainly can’t stop you. You can even bring me into it. I obviously didn’t mind. But you do not get to play this little game with Callie.”

Gods, he was so angry, his words practically a growl. “I didn’t—”

“Think of it as a game?” He was up now, gathering the clothes they’d discarded and tossing her own shirt back at her. “Of course not. Why would you? It’s not your life you’re playing with. And it’s like I said, if it was just mine I wouldn’t even care. But that little girl has had enough loss. I’m not letting you walk into her life like this and then walk right back out and make her wonder what she’d done wrong.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she slipped back into her shirt. Gods, what had she been thinking? He had every right to be upset, and she was misreading things like always. “I’ll just, um…”

She gestured at the guest room he’d had her set her bags in earlier, and he nodded shortly. She took a deep breath and tried one more time. “Um, good night, I guess.”

“Good night.” Gods, he wasn’t even looking at her anymore. She’d absolutely ruined everything, and now she’d have to live with that.

Quietly, she slipped away, up the stairs they’d decorated earlier and into the darkened room. It must have been a cloudy night, for there was no starlight glimmering off of the snow in the yard.

Not bothering with turning on a light, she dug in her bag for the package that had been meant for Callie and pulled the wrapping paper off of it with trembling fingers. The colored pencils tumbled to the floor, the packaging thankfully staying intact, but she was able to keep a hold of the coloring book full of pages of lively flowers. She bit her lip, tracing along the edge of a kingsflame blossom on the cover with her fingertips.

For a fleeting moment she considered tearing the book apart, or throwing it away. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, though, knowing it would only bring her further grief. Instead, she tucked the book and the pencils alike into one of the empty drawers. Rowan would find it later, and maybe he could give it to his daughter and pretend he’d gotten it for her.

Maybe he’d just throw it out when he found it. But there was a chance his temper would’ve calmed enough by the time he actually saw the book that he would pass it along, even if the little girl never learned the true identity of the gift-giver.

It was for the best, she knew. Callie certainly deserved better than someone who came whenever she pleased and left whenever she felt she had to, regardless of how a child would feel about it. That didn’t stop her from quietly sobbing as her head hit the pillow.

~*~*~

The setting was familiar, Aelin sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter in his aunt’s house, even though the reason they were both back here was one she had never expected. His aunt had passed quietly in the night two months before, and now she was seeing him again for the first time in two years as he cleaned up the house to either sell it or rent it out.

Those two years had treated him well, filling out the muscles of his chest and back and shoulders. He was a man now, twenty years of age to her eighteen, and he certainly looked like one too. It was so hard seeing him like this, when she knew that there was someone else waiting for him back home in Wendlyn. But he’d asked for her presence and her assistance, and she knew she would regret it forever if she’d turned him away when he’d needed her.

They had spent nearly an hour in awkward silence, boxing up Maeve’s china and silverware, before Aelin blurted out, “I’m leaving.”

He turned to look at her, though he didn’t speak, and where once she could’ve told what he was thinking just by looking into those eyes, she found he was now a mystery to her.

She rushed to clarify. “Not right now. After I graduate, I mean. Like you did.”

He just returned his focus to the kitchen cabinets, sorting and organizing the many pots and pans his aunt had gathered over the years.

The sound of soft metallic clanging was the only one to reach her ears for a while. Gods, was he truly not even talking to her? He’d barely spoken since he’d arrived in Orynth, but she’d written that off as him feeling uncomfortable with what he was there to do and not anything to do with her personally. Now, though, it was harder to think that his lack of reaction was unrelated to who he was speaking with. Had they truly grown so far apart?

Perhaps they had. Though he wore no ring on his hand, she realized that she didn’t know if he’d actually proposed to Lyria like he’d been talking about those two years previous. When had they even spoken last, before he’d called her to help with this? She was struggling to remember.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to agree to help. But it wasn’t a decision she could just take back now. He needed her.

That didn’t mean his utter lack of response sat well with her, however. She crouched beside him, pulling more pans out of the cabinet, and continued on. “I’m going to Rifthold. There’s a good college there, lots of job opportunities—”

When he cut her off, his voice was cold. “Do what you want, Aelin. I don’t care.”

This time, as she stumbled out of his aunt’s house fighting off tears once more, she knew she wouldn’t speak to him again. He’d moved on and was living his life without his friend. It was beyond time for her to do the same. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and finally deleted his number before letting the tears fall.

~*~*~

Yulemas day passed in a subdued blur for Aelin, and soon she and Lysandra were boarding their train back to Rifthold. Aedion had accompanied them to the station this time, and Aelin stood awkwardly to one side as they exchanged numbers and shy promises to visit whenever they could.

Aelin was happy for them. Really, she was. Someone should have a happy Yulemas season.

Once they were on board and the train had departed, Lysandra tried to get her to talk about Rowan’s conspicuous absence from their departure, but she found she didn’t quite know what to say. She asked something about her and Aedion instead, though she couldn’t remember what, and Lysandra happily chattered along as Aelin watched the snowy woods pass by the window.

Returning to her shoebox of an apartment after having spent so long in Orynth served as a rude awakening for Aelin, and she sighed as she hauled her bag onto the bed so she could unpack. It took twice as long when she was struggling to hold back tears, but she still managed, and even managed a few hours of fitful sleep before dragging herself back to work the next day.

Lysandra had been smart when she’d requested her leave. She’d allowed a day of rest after arriving home, whereas Aelin had thought she would be glad for the return to routine. As she passed through the doors of Havilliard Enterprises, though, swiping her badge along the way for entry into the building, she fought a sudden rise of bile in her throat. This was what she had left it all behind for? Another day, another handful of dollars clutched in her fist at the exchange of her soul, the art she had studied being used to manipulate people into buying whatever stupid shit they were selling today?

It wasn’t too late to call in sick. She could just back out of the doors, call her boss, explain that she’d thought she could make it in but she was just too unwell to work. It would really be for the best; she obviously needed more time to get over everything that had happened in a short week and a half.

She had just turned to leave the building when she saw a sight that made her freeze.

That was Chaol outside the doors, but it wasn’t Nesryn he was kissing. She didn’t know who this woman was, though she worked at the hospital nearby if the scrub pants peeking out from her jacket were anything to go by. The woman smiled up at him, positively glowing with joy from the season—or, no, from something else entirely, Aelin realized as the woman’s hand strayed to her own abdomen. Gods, had he already…?

He evidently had, as his hand slid to cover hers with an answering smile. How long had they even been seeing each other? She’d thought he was still with Nesryn before she’d left for her little vacation; had he been seeing this woman on the side like she was sure he’d been seeing Nesryn while he was still nominally with Aelin?

Something broke in her then, and she realized with a laugh that it was the last chain holding her back. Why should she care what he did? Why should she care about anything that happened in this stupid city, when she had just realized her entire world lay elsewhere?

Turning on her heel, she marched past her own desk and right into her boss’ office. Dorian Havilliard, heir to the company but currently still her immediate supervisor, blinked up at her. “I don’t think we had a meeting until next week,” he said, eyes bleary with what someone else would think was sleep but she knew was most likely whatever crazed Yulemas party he’d attended.

“We don’t, but I’m here to tell you I won’t be at that meeting.” Gods, her heart was fluttering in her chest, but her mind and gut were both in agreement despite her nerves. She was finally doing the right thing for once in her godsdamned life.

He leaned forward, hands braced on the desk in front of him. “Aelin, as your boss I am telling you to get to the point. As your friend, I am telling you that I am too godsdamned hungover to draw this out and begging you to get to the point.”

She smiled. “I quit, Dorian. I’m leaving.”

He blinked, and then laughed. “If I’m being honest with you, I’m surprised every day you keep showing up. You leaving is the most Aelin decision I’ve seen you make in years.”

“You’re not… upset?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “Now get out of here, you know we never let anyone actually work out their time after their notice and I know your projects are all wrapped up anyway. Clean out your desk and go home.”

Grinning, she turned and walked back to her desk, taking the few things she had ever left there to begin with and leaving forever. On her way out, she tugged her phone out of her pocket and texted Lysandra the news before dialing a different number and pacing nervously as the dial tone began to ring.

The recipient of the call didn’t pick up, but she hadn’t exactly expected him to. Instead, she drove home and began throwing her clothes into suitcases while waiting for him to call back.

It didn’t take long before all of her belongings were packed away; most of what she had was clothing, as well as a few kitchen implements for the oven she admittedly never used. Any food in the refrigerator was neatly bagged so Lysandra could use her spare key and pick it up; she didn’t want it to go to waste, after all. She also left the wine, knowing that her friend would likely demand it in exchange for what she was asking of her.

Finally her phone rang, and she glanced briefly at the caller’s name before picking up with a smile. “Hey, I need a favor,” she said.

~*~*~

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Aedion asked as they loaded the last of her boxes into her car. Soon she would be driving her way down to Rifthold and beginning her first days as a university student, and she couldn’t be more excited. Aedion, on the other hand, was much more hesitant about the situation.

It made sense, in a way. He’d stuck around after he graduated, leaping right into the fire academy like his father before him. He’d never had any desire to leave Orynth, and she couldn’t blame him. It held precious few bad memories for him, after all.

Aelin, on the other hand, was tired of feeling weighed down by ghosts of what might’ve been. No, it was past time that she leave. “I’m ready,” she said. “And it’s not like you’ll never hear from me again. You could even visit.”

Her cousin smiled sadly, and she knew if she asked him to he’d follow her to Rifthold just to make sure she was happy. She couldn’t ask that of him, though. He loved his hometown, loved the people in it, and she had no right to take any of that away from him just because she was miserable here. “And you can visit here, you know that, right?”

She laughed. “I’ll be home on my breaks,” she replied, though already it felt strange to refer to Orynth as home when her whole future was about to unfold in another city. “They close the campus down over Yulemas and during the summer, and I’d have nowhere else to stay.”

“Then I guess I won’t take over your room and turn it into a game room just yet,” he teased.

She hugged him, then, dropping her last bag to the ground in order to get a better grip on her cousin and friend. “I’ll miss you,” she admitted. “You and Uncle Gavriel will probably be the only people I miss from here, you know that?”

He frowned, but by this point he knew better than to bring up the spectacular blowup and fizzling out that had been the end of her friendship with Rowan. “I know,” he finally replied. “It’s weird, I want you to make friends out there, and I know you will. But I don’t want you to make too many, because I want you to come home someday. Is that weird?”

She smiled sadly. “That’s not weird. We’re family, and this is the first time we’re going to be this far apart for this long.” It was quite a distance; Rifthold was two days of driving away. She’d be stopping by the border between Terrasen and Adarlan for the evening before getting the rest of the way to the city the next day.

He tugged at her braid rather than reply. “Okay. Get going, before one of us cries. If it’s you I’ll freak out, and if it’s me that’ll just be embarrassing.”

She laughed, tucking her last bag away before opening the driver’s side door. “Whatever, you big baby.”

“Text me when you get to your hotel tonight!” he called as he backed away from the car.

“Yes, mom!” she shouted, grinning when he doubled over in laughter. Then she was driving away, watching him wave until he faded from view.

~*~*~

Aelin’s heart leapt into her throat as she knocked on Rowan’s door just as it had the night before Yulemas. Gods, what if she was making a terrible mistake after all? What if he opened the door, only to slam it shut again in her face? Worse, what if he never opened it at all?

Arms wrapping around herself, she began to pace on his porch. This had been a terrible idea. She should’ve waited a bit longer, maybe run into him in a public place instead of barging into his home. That would’ve been a safer option. This was risky as hell, and yet deep down she knew it was her best chance. That thought did almost nothing to settle her nerves, though.

The door opened, and she looked back at it, blinking when she saw no one at all before glancing down and seeing it had been opened by Callie instead of Rowan. The little girl opened her mouth on a gleeful shout, but Aelin quickly dropped to her knees and hushed her. “It’s a surprise,” she whispered.

“Oh,” Callie whispered back, and Aelin was once again thrown into amusement at just how loud a four-year-old’s whisper could be. Before she could say anything, though, before she could ask the girl about her day or see if her dad was awake yet, tiny arms were thrown around her in a tight hug.

Fuck, but it would be so easy to love this child. If she was truly honest with herself, Rowan’s daughter had stolen away a piece of her heart the moment she’d first heard her try to say her name. Even more than what she may or may not feel for Rowan, this alone was the best confirmation she could get that she was making the right choice after all. “Aww, I’m so glad to see you again too,” she whispered, tucking a stray lock of dirty-blonde hair back into one of her ever-present braids. “Did your daddy do your hair today?” she grinned, already knowing the answer from the way the braids were falling apart. Rowan’s work was far neater.

“Nope!” Callie replied at full volume. “I did!”

Aelin winced, knowing the shout was sure to attract Rowan’s attention. “It’s pretty,” she said as she heard footsteps approach at a full run.

“What are you doing here, Aelin?” Rowan’s words were cold and angry, but when she looked up at him she realized that he wasn’t speaking from a place of wrath. No, Rowan was afraid. And she knew exactly why; he’d shouted it at her on that night before Yulemas, after all.

“You were right,” she said simply, watching the fight drain out of his shoulders. “What I was doing wasn’t fair to you, to her, or to me.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here,” he replied, but his face… she hadn’t seen this kind of hope cross his features in a long time, and never directed at her.

With a few murmured words down to the child still in her arms, she sent her back to Rowan before standing as Callie wrapped her arms around her father’s leg instead. “I quit my job,” she blurted out. “I quit my job, I broke the lease on my apartment, and I moved back in with Aedion.”

Rowan quietly ushered Callie into the living room, where she resumed happily coloring in a page of… gods, that was the coloring book she’d left behind for her. With his daughter’s attention otherwise occupied, he turned back to Aelin. “Why?” he said quietly.

She felt the corner of her lips turn up in a crooked smile. “I was wrong, when I left for Rifthold. My life wasn’t there, only my work. My life… it’s here. With my family… with you, if you’ll let me.”

Rowan was silent for a moment, clearly thinking over her answer, and she bit her lip. This was it. She’d said everything she could. Now everything depended on Rowan’s response. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and shook his head, and she almost jumped out of her skin. Gods, she was so nervous. Even if he allowed her back in, they would still have so much to resolve, but if he shut her back out now… well, she didn’t know what she’d do.

He finally laughed, tugging her into a crushing embrace and burying his face against her hair. “You never do anything by halves, do you?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer but a sob came out instead, shocking them both. As hot tears spilled down her cheeks, she fisted her hands in the material of his shirt. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know why—”

He only pulled her close once more, urging her head to come to rest against his shoulder. “You’ve had a long week,” he said quietly. “We all have.”

Slowly her shoulders stopped shaking, and she finally looked up at him with a watery smile. “So…”

“We’ll have to go slow,” he cautioned. “I meant what I said about Callie having lost enough.”

Was he really saying…? She had to know. “But…” Her words trailed off. What could she even ask? He had to know he was holding her heart in his hands right now. He had to know that a single word from him was about to alter the course of her life forever.

Rather than respond verbally, Rowan leaned in and kissed her like he first had the night before Yulemas, soft and slow, almost tentative.

As much as she wanted to just melt into his embrace and forget time had any meaning, she knew that this alone wouldn’t fix things. And so she pulled back ever so slightly, just enough to get a good look at his face. “Does this mean we can try?”

He smiled. “This means we can try.”

Before she could kiss him again, the sound of tearing paper reached her ears, and they both turned as one to where they’d left Callie coloring. The child had torn a page out of her book, and now she was running back over to them with a wide grin. Breathlessly, she presented the page to Aelin, who accepted it with a smile and then began tearing up all over again when she saw it was a carefully-colored kingsflame blossom like the one that had been on the cover when she’d seen the book in the shop. “I made it for you!” Callie beamed up at her.

Aelin fell to her knees once more, and she felt Rowan do the same beside her before hugging them both to himself. “It’s perfect,” she told Callie earnestly.

And it was perfect. For once in her life, this was a perfect moment, and she was so looking forward to having more just like this.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan @courtofjurdan

#haven writes #rowaelin

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cosmiccandydreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Stability Chapter 10

Otis Driftwood x Reader

Author note: Yes this is another flashback chapter, I had so much fun doing the last chapter I decided to expand more. This chapter is pretty long so thanks for sticking with the story so far💜

You're 21 now and looking out the window at the beautiful orange and deep red sunset. It's been 3 years since the incident at the bar. And since then the family has told you more about the comings and goings that happened there. You of course were shocked at first and widely taken aback.Your moral compass was definitely damaged considering the fact that you were very biased to the family due to the fact that you were pretty much part of this family.

They never asked you to participate but now that you were aware of the knowledge that they were hiding from you they hid it a lot less. though this sounds like this would have been an inconvenience It actually was quite refreshing because now you felt that you had more freedom walking around the house and there was less censorship in your presence.

You even started working at Captain's Spalding's gas station a couple days a week, who himself was thrilled at the fact that you were now aware of what was going on and that you seem to be taking it very well. "I always had a feeling you did alright with weird" he said. "I remember that time you brought home that squirrel skeleton with the baby and you tried to glue it back together or something. That's when I was like this girl's going to be either a taxidermy or some weird shit". You laughed spraying more Windex on the display case. "How's your old man by the way? ``he asked, counting the money in the drawer. This is pretty much the only gas station that your father used when he was filling up in between his truck stops.

"You tell me he talks to you a lot more than he talks to me. I actually haven't seen him for maybe a week and a half." "Oh well now little darling don't get sad your old man's a good man. He just doesn't know how to be a daddy you know?". You just hummed in agreement, not really wanting to go any further on the subject." I'm sad about finishing up the last of my courses at that school a couple cities away What are you going to do without me here?" You said in a chuckle to hide the fact you were incredibly sad about leaving the family.

"Well shit I'm going to be lost without ya but it won't be long before you're back". "I asked Baby and Otis to come and see me. They said they'll try but Otis said he doesn't like to be seen out in public too much especially in a big city. I mean I get it but I'm going to miss them and you of course". You stood up and brushed off your pants, sighing deeply. "Yeah Otis is not one for being in the city You might be able to get Baby to come down it's hard to get her to focus and she's not really a good driver but I'll try to bring them down at least once to see you and I'll try to call you you know and feel free to call me at anytime You know my number you know where I'm at." He walked around the counter and gave you a big hug "we need at least one of us in this family to be educated so you go get them smarts".

The day you packed up your truck Baby helped you, You told her that you were in a hurry so you couldn't wait for Otis to get done with whatever he was doing to say goodbye and that you'll call the house later. Truth be told there was a lump growing in your throat at the thought of leaving. The two of you had only gotten closer,late nights of him showing you his work and talking to you about anything really that popped into his mind. You also notice how jealous you got when you knew he was out with one of Charlie's girls.

You also noticed that whenever you brought up any boys that you may have seen around town that might be attractive he always scoffed and said "there ain't no good boys in this town bunch of fucking idiots". You would secretly hope that's because he was jealous but you weren't sure if it's due to jealousy or the fact that he was just protective of you.

You settled into your classes pretty fast even making a couple friends in some of them. After about 3 to 4 months you would call the house every weekend and talk to the baby for hours. You would also talk to Otis but he was usually interrupted by being yelled at by someone mostly doing the yelling. He never brought up if he had any attraction to you and you decided it wasn't good to bring it up either You're silly schoolgirl crush was probably just that and you just started to accept that I mean he was so much older than you What would he want in you? He probably saw you as a child.

You had struck up an acquaintance ship with an attractive young man in your political science class. Due to being an accelerated semester you were only going to be in the course with each other for about 3 months. You came to find out that his name was Dayton and that he was very smart. At the end of the semester he has asked you on a date, you told him you had to think about it, a small flash of hurt appeared across his face "it's not that there's anything wrong with you it's just I don't know if I have time to date anybody right now and I'm late calling home I will give you a ring later though okay?" You asked heading toward your room "ok y/n um yeah call me whenever" he said and headed the opposite way. when you reach the back to your dorm you rang the Firefly's house, discuss what you learned today in political science with Otis. Mama Firefly answered when you called, she was over the moon to hear from you.

After talking for a while you asked her if Otis was home, because you had agreed to talk at 6:30. "Oh I'm sorry sugar dumpling but he's at Charlie's but Baby is home wanna talk to her?" Your stomach twisted, he blew off your phone conversation to go fuck a whore? Well that cleared up anything you were wondering about how he felt.. "Actually Mama, I think I have someone on call waiting. Can you tell Baby I'll call her tomorrow?" "Sure thing honey we miss you!" "Miss you too mama" you hung up the phone and called another number "hey Dayton I think I am free for dinner after all".

When Otis returned home he immediately hurried over where the phone was. Was he too late? She said 8:30 right? He rang your dorm number before hanging it up hard when you didn't answer. Fuck it he thought and headed to the kitchen for a beer. "Oh Otis!" Y/n called for you I told her you were at Charlie's" Mama's voice ran out from the living room as he passed.

"Wait when did she call and you told her what?!" He angrily asked whipping his head out "I was out with Cutter and it was 8:30 she was supposed to call" " mmm hmm well honey she said 6:30 but then she said she said she had another call so she's gonna call back tomorrow" she replied looking back toward her show. He swallowed his annoyance and stomped back upstairs after grabbing his beer, god why the fuck did he care?! And why did he rush over here just to shoot the shit with you on the phone.. "god dammit" he thought to himself "fucking God dammit".

The date went well to your surprise, dinner was lovely followed by a fun conversation (or debate) depending on who you ask. You started to wonder if you had wasted time pining over the idea of Otis being interested in you and maybe you should focus on someone your own age. You didn't call the house for the rest of the week, Baby left some messages on your answering machine as well as Spalding. Nothing from Otis though, A small part of you was disappointed. You eventually called Baby back and you had told her how you went on a date with a nice young man. She was happy for you and wanted to hear every detail. You asked about Otis and she said he was in a mood right now so it's best not to bug him.

Otis had walked by the room when he heard Baby talking to you on the phone, He heard that you had gone out with a young man. Good for her he thought, the sooner I get the idea of her out of my head the better she's a fucking kid anyway. He decided to head to Charlie's and relieve some tension. He thought he got you out his head at least for the time being, that was until he found himself picking the girl who had your hair color, your eyes and around the same height. Walking into the prostitutes room he pictured your face, god dammit he thought to himself as he shut the door behind him.

You had gone on a couple more dates with Dayton. So far he had been a perfect gentleman. One night after a particularly wonderful date You had both ended up back at your place. You've never gone fully all the way You had kissed and stuff a couple of boys around town but nothing ever lasted, You were nervous and you let him know that you were not experienced in this department. He kept reassuring you that it was going to be fine and that he would take care of you. It almost seemed like he was rushing you a bit to not change your mind but you decided that he was just happy to be close to you.

You ended up going all the way with him but throughout the ordeal it was not as exciting as you thought it would be. He seemed to be more focused on getting himself off than focusing on you, halfway through you thought to yourself that you would wish he would hurry up.( He was way smaller than he led you to believe *eye roll*.)You also noticed that at one point you found yourself imagining Otis on top of you.. saying you were conflicted was definitely an understatement.

After that night he left in the morning after falling asleep right after he finished. You got up to the shower and looked at yourself in the mirror. You thought back to the night at the bar and all the other nights that he would spend at the house. You felt so homesick for everyone although your time here in college was fun and you're glad that you experienced it You were starting to wonder if this was really where you wanted to be. The days following after you and Dayton had been intimate you noticed the change in him he was starting to become more aggressive. The sweet demeanor that he had was slowly disappearing to someone who was controlling and short-tempered. He was starting to insist that he stayed over every night even when you told him that you had studying to do and that you did not want to be distracted. He had pressured you for sex again to which you declined and said that you are still recovering from your last session. He began to grow more impatient, He also started to dictate what he wanted you to wear and what he wanted you to eat.

At this point it only been about 3 weeks since you guys had become a couple. You decided that it was moving too fast. The final straw was when you were about to eat a bagel and he slapped it out of your hand and said Don't you think you've had enough? You're gaining a little bit of weight. You hadn't told anyone at the house about the situation because you didn't want them to worry, now that the semester was ending you decided that it was time to head back home and decide what you want to do with your life.You weren't as happy here as you thought you were going to be.

You decided to break the news to Dayton that you wanted to just remain friends You made sure to tell him while you were on the way to class so he would have a reason not to linger and make a scene because he was starting to show he also has signs of having an anger problem.He would have outbursts at the most smallest things and seemed to blame you for them. After telling him that you just wanted to be friends you hurried away from him before he could start an argument You could see the anger and confusion and his eyes but you knew you had to get away before he got upset. Part of was worried that he would hit you but you also thought maybe you were being paranoid either way you didn't want to take that chance so you hurried away from him as soon as possible You felt bad about breaking up with him this way but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Heading back to your room You saw that the phone was ringing You assumed it was Dayton so you decided not to answer it You were already tired and stressed enough You didn't really didn't want to have a debate about the relationship. The machine picked it up "ah hey there kitten or ah y/n guess I shouldn't call you that no more cus you got a boyfriend I and I don't know if he's the jealous type or whatever and all, anyway just wanted to see how ya doing and if you forgot us rednecks over here, I guess I'll let…" it was Otis! Hearing his voice your heart skipped a beat you nearly fell right on your face rushing to grab the phone. "Hey! Hi Otis'' you were out of breath from running to grab the phone but tried to chill out so he didn't notice. "I'm glad you called I've missed you". "I've missed you too darlin. How's the big ol fancy city treating you? Ain't the same without you here Baby is driving me nuts man".

You hadn't noticed until you felt a cold wet tear hit your hand that you were crying. Hearing his voice had ripped at your heart more intensely than you had anticipated..fuck you missed him. "I'm thinking about coming home for a while I actually might be able to submit my final paper through the mail but maybe you can look over it it's political science so you know stupid government stuff but thought you'd be interested". You said that last sentence so fast it nearly took all your breath. "Shit I would love too when you come home? I gotta make sure I get all my projects out the way so we can dedicate the entire afternoon to it. I'm sure there's a lot I have to unteach you about what they're trying to tell you is the truth". You laughed there was the Otis you knew. "Plus I know Baby and mama are gonna be excited for you to come home. They are gonna want to make a big deal." Coming home… that's when it hits you… that was home they were home.

"Well I was thinking" your sentence got interrupted by a very aggressive knock on the door. "Oh ah hold on Otis That might be campus security they seem to be knocking on the door very hard". He walked over to open the door still holding the phone Otis held the phone in his shoulder as he took out his knife and started sharpening it, might as well multitask. "Hi is everything ok officer.. oh hey Dayton" your voice fell at the end Otis heard it too, he sat up a little straighter listening more intensely. "I didn't like how we left our conversation earlier." He stated with his hands in his pockets mo"I understand I may have been kinda mean to you lately and I'm sorry but I think that's over with now, water under the bridge?"

He opened his arms as if to ask for a hug but he also seemed to be clenching his teeth slightly as well trying to hold in his anger, "thank you Dayton that's very sweet and of course no hard feelings thanks for taking this so well, I'm afraid I have to go though I'm on the phone with family but you have a good night" as you went to close the door he stopped it with his foot. "Maybe you don't understand me.. no one rejects me" he snarled trying to push the door more open. "Dayton you should go" you started trying to not look so frightened but truth be told this was terribly frightening. Otis stood up and while holding the phone in his shoulder while looking for his gun,knife and keys. Who the fuck was this kid talking to you like that? He thought to himself, fuck this kid.

That's when his stomach sank and his blood boiled over.. he heard something he never wanted to hear again, you screamed out of fear and dropped the phone "y/n"! He yelled into the phone over and over but you didn't answer. He wasted no time in running downstairs to where Baby was. He was practically screaming in her face what's the name of that college that you're at and what does she know about this kid Dayton. She quickly told him and then asked him what the problem was. He ignored her instead searching for Rufus and telling him that he has something to take care of with him. He grabbed the keys and hurried out of the house. He had never driven so fast in his life, Rufus kept a look out for the cops as they sped down the highway. He didn't really have a plan for when he got there other than he wanted to teach that kid a lesson.

You had dropped the phone to press your entire body weight against the door to prevent Dayton from coming inside your dorm. It was difficult Because he was so much larger than you. "Go away Dayton!!!!" You screamed "someone help someone!!" You frantically repeated hopefully someone would walk by and see the commotion."open the door you bitch!!" He screamed pushing it with all his weight, you leaned down grabbed the phone right as he was able to push his face into the doorway, you hit him as hard as you could in the face with it, he staggered back in pain as you pushed the door fully closed. You grabbed the phone again, "Otis!" You screamed into it before realizing the other line was dead.

Wasting no time to figure out what was happening on his end you dialed campus security. You heard Dayton attempting to break down your door by slamming into it. You started to cry angry frustrated tears. Why can't he just go away?!. "Hello hello is anyone there," campus security asked, finally connecting on the other end. You hurried to explain the situation to campus security who urged you to stay on the line as they came to your dorm. Unfortunately Dayton had run off before they could come. They assured you they would be checking in on you and keeping an eye out for him. You nodded and curled up in the bathroom with the door locked which was the only place you felt safe. "I wish Otis was here" you thought to yourself.

Little did you know he was, his brother and him drove as fast as they could and ended up on the compass in no time. He didn't know what Dayton looked like besides the shitty description from Baby. "What are we gonna do when we find him?" Rufus asked. He was worried about you as well but he didn't want to start something that would get you expelled. "We're not going to do anything but teach the boy a lesson that's all" Otis replied. "Scare him straight".

As much as Otis wanted to do unspeakable things to him Rufus was right This is not the place to do it especially if he was seen associated with you. As luck would have it they happened to see a young man fitting the description who looked like he was in a hurry with some bags and other materials. He seems to be trying to flee the campus as fast as possible. "I think that's our guy" Rufus said.Otis rubbed his hands together in anticipation. They slowly walked over to where he was loading up his small car. Rufus came up behind him and asked him for directions when he turned around to give a snarky response to him just as Otis threw a bag over his head and pulled him into the bushes.

Dayton struggled and tried to scream as Rufus held him, Otis shut him up quickly though pulling out his large hunting knife and pressing it up to his neck. "Hey there you pig faced rat nose son of a bitch, I'ma need you to listen and listen good if you ever so much as breathe in the same direction as y/n again I will cut off your I assume very small balls and shove them down your throat". Dayton didn't answer, he just started to shake and suddenly tears began running down his face. "Oh shit this boy is crying!!! Hahaha! Little pussy ass bitch". Otis laughed pointing at him. Rufus walked over and pointed a gun in his face,"you understand us boy? You come near y/n again it's all bad for you". "I understand" he stuttered over and over again. They grabbed him and pushed him into the mud, exploding in laughter.

Heading back to the truck there laughter echoed throughout the campus. You looked up and could have sworn that you heard a slight hint of Otis'h voice through your bathroom window. "Is that Otis? No no way my mind is making me imagine things''. The next day after getting approval from the Dean that you were able to mail in the rest of your assignment you loaded up your truck and headed back to Ruggsville. Passing the gas station as you entered into town you felt relief wash over you. You were finally home.

#otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #three from hell #otis driftwood x reader #otis firefly #thedevilsrejects #the devils rejects

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yikesharringrove · 5 years ago

Note

Steve and Billy are roommates in college and they haven’t fucked or kissed each other before cause of ”we’re just friends” shit. But then one night while they’re jerking off together to some gay porn they had found, Billy sees Steve pushing fingers inside of himself. When Steve sees Billy looking at him, he says ”it feels so much better like this” while letting out a whine and Billy’s fucking goneee. He’d end up fucking Steve and Steve’s in fucking heaven cause he had wanted this for so long.

Smut

ao3

Steve busted through the door, throwing himself on the couch as dramatic as ever.

“I’m never leaving the house again.” He was strewn about the sofa. Billy had thought he was going to be at work until two this morning, thought he had about three hours to himself to watch the new tape he had gotten, the one that was currently paused on the tv.

“I take it work sucked.” Steve was tending bar at a total dive a few blocks away from their shitty apartment while he put himself through school.

“Some douchebag was groping a girl, so I punched his lights out and my manager yelled at me for it, so I fucking quit, because I don’t want to work at a place where shit like that is okay.” Billy could respect that he guessed. “Oh, were you gonna watch a movie?”

“Nah, it’s a porno.” Steve looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I interrupted. I can go to bed if you want.” Billy grinned at him.

“Why, Pretty Boy? Scared of a little gay porn?” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy knew Steve liked guys, has dated a few. Being roommates, they had each walked in to find the other in a compromising position or two.

Billy had a fucking field day when he found out Steve liked dick too. He actually had a shot, didn’t have to pine and yearn and all that other gay shit Robin accused him of.

But Steve hadn’t done anything to make Billy feel like he was actually interested, and he didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he ever had for some ass. Even if it was Steve’s fucking perfect ass.

“Play it. I could go for a jerk after that fucking day.” He was unbuttoning his jeans, pulling them off as he was left in his boxers. Billy watched him go to his room, returning a few moments later with a bottle of lube.

This wasn’t new for them, jerking off together. They used to do this sometimes in Hawkins, would sit there, high as kites and talk about the fucks they’ve had, jerking off and pretending they weren’t stealing glances at each other’s cocks.

Steve poured himself a big glass of wine, tossing it back before downing another, joining Billy back on the couch with his third.

Billy was half hard in his shorts as Steve tugged off his shirt.

This also wasn’t new. They were both naked kinda guys, liked spendin’ time with their dicks out. Sometimes they would just hang out naked, like that was totally casual.

So Billy though fuck it, kicked off his shorts, sat on the sofa completely bare, lazily stroking his cock as Steve settled down next to him, cheeks starting to get a little red from the wine, his boxers on the floor with his jeans.

The porno wasn’t really anything special, just two guys fucking around in different positions. But it had been a minute since Billy had fucked anyone, so this was gettin’ him goin’.

Well, and the slick sounds of Steve jerking off next to him.

He had been sneaking glances down at Steve, the way he twisted his wrist as he stroked over the head of his cock, the way he had poured some lube over himself to ease the way. Billy glanced over, watched as Steve squeezed at his balls, his legs spreading a little bit.

Billy turned back to the tape, watching one guy manhandle the other, fucking into him against a fucking wall.

Billy could totally do that with Steve. Could pick him up, hold him there as he slammed into him.

He heard Steve going for more lube, pointedly didn’t look at him as he pictured himself and Steve in the positions the two men were in.

Steve gasped a little, just a soft breath of a thing and Billy looked over, nearly choking as he realized just what exactly was fucking happening.

Steve was sitting low in the couch, his legs spread as he ran one hand lazily over his cock, the other dipped down, two fingers sliding in and out.

“Are you, are you fingering yourself?” Billy knew he wasn’t supposed to look, wasn’t supposed to comment on it, but he felt like his head was gonna fucking explode.

Steve looked at him, eyes big and dark.

“It just feels so much better like this.” His voice was breathy. Billy was losing his fucking mind, watching as Steve curled his fingers, his eyes fluttering closed as he fucking moaned, starting whining.

“Oh my God. Stevie, you’re so-” Steve whined again, hips bucking up. He had abandoned stroking his cock, one hand gripped into his own thigh, the other fucking roughly into himself. “Can you cum just on your fingers?”

Steve looked at him, biting his lip.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Billy growled, petting over Steve’s thighs, shuffling closer to him, completely ignoring the porn on the tv for this show in front of him.

“Holy shit, I, you’re so fucking hot.”

Steve pulled his fingers out, shifting himself on the couch, his head on the armrest, one leg thrown over the back, his hole exposed to Billy.

“Billy, I want you to fuck me. Please, want it so bad.” He was bucking his hips, pouting up at Billy. “I know you wanna take me. Make me feel good.” Billy’s mouth was dry.

He could not say no, not when Steve’s hole was stretched and slick, right in front of him for the taking.

He put his hands on Steve’s hips, sliding them up and over his body, feeling his soft skin.

He was panting slightly, his chest flushed, his cock hard against his stomach. Billy just drank him in, wanted to fucking remember this.

“Bill, please.” Steve fucking whined at him.

Billy made a sound deep in his chest, lined his hips up with Steve’s and punched into his little hole.

Steve cried out, hands clawing into Billy’s shoulders as Billy started slamming into him, holding onto the armrest Steve’s head was perched on for leverage.

He wanted to ruin Steve, take him so fucking good, he would only think of Billy when he got fucked, would remember being spread over this shitty little sofa and being pounded.

Steve was crying out, clenching around Billy as he shoved his cock deep inside. Steve was whimpering, his back arching.

It was fucking beautiful.

Billy was staring at him, trying to burn this into his memory, didn’t know if Steve would, would want him again.

Steve’s thighs were shaking on either side of his torso, the flush on his chest spreading lower, down his stomach.

“Bill, I’m, I’m close.” Billy grinned, sucking a bruise under his collarbone.

“You gonna cum on just my cock?” Steve took a shaky breath, his brow furrowing, eyes closing as he came all over himself, all over Billy.

He was so tight, his muscles clenching around Billy’s cock, making him groan into Steve’s neck, made him cum inside Steve.

He was still buried inside Steve, his face still in his neck.

“Holy shit, Pretty Boy.” Steve laughed softly, brushing his fingers down Billy’s back.

“That was fucking good.” Billy bit at Steve’s neck. He shifted, pulling out gently. “Fuck, I’m gonna be so sore.” Billy watched, slack-jawed, as his own cum dripped out of Steve’s hole. He smirked, spreading his legs more, running his fingers over his hole, gathering some of the cum.

Billy nearly stopped fucking breathing as Steve brought the fingers to his lips, licking the spunk off his fingers.

“Oh my God,” Billy choked out, lunging over Steve, half-hard against him again.

#yikes writes #harringrove #lemons #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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lightningbugqueensfics · 4 years ago

Text

A Magical Time of Year

Happy Holidays from we the Supernatural fandom! I present to you a fluffy fic of family, gift exchanges, coming out, and copious amounts of Destiel. Minor angst, because I can't resist, but a happy ending all around.

Destiel, No Archive Warnings Apply, and there are spoilers from the finale.

Thanks so much for the help @themoosegoes-deanicandothis!

Link

“Dean, we have to go,” Cas called out, “Sam just texted me that Claire got here, and we still need to get presents for Jody and Charlie!”

“Alright, let’s just do one last check that we got everything,” Dean said back loudly over the din of the mall. It was December 24, 2020, Christmas Eve, and the pair were finishing up their present shopping.

“Dean Winchester, I have gone over that list five times, we have everything!”

“Humor me?”

“Fine,” Cas grumbled, faking annoyance at his boyfriends antics. Dean really did love Christmas, and was actually enjoying himself in this enormous place. Everything was magical during the Christmas season. There were lights everywhere, everyone seemed happier, and snow made everything unreal. Especially this year, when nothing even resembling an apocalypse was occurring, December was Dean’s favorite month. Even the shopping required by it.

“New hat for Bobby, the blanket with the green creature on it for Charlie,”

“Baby Yoda, Cas!” Dean interrupted, “I showed you the first episode, you know who it is!” Cas smiled to himself. Dean was sure he did that just for his boyfriend’s reaction.

“A silver knife set for Jody,” he continued, “And nunchucks for Claire,” Dean grinned at the last one. It had been his idea, and after extensive convincing, Cas had finally given in and let him buy them. The pros of finally dating.

“We already have the hair products and gun cleaning set at home for Sam, along with Eileen’s new gun, books for Kaia, a new bear for Jack, a pasta maker and hair pins for Donna,” Dean had been particularly proud of Donna’s present. The hair pins could be removed and turned into silver daggers, perfect for hunting, “and that book on mythology and medicine for Alex. And for you a-”

“No, remember Cas, not supposed to tell me,”

“Right. Yours is a secret, but just from you. Are we missing anything, Dean?” he finished sarcastically.

“Nope, we got it all.”

“Good, then let’s get out of here,” Cas grabbed Dean’s elbow as forcefully as an angel could without hurting him, and steered him towards the door.

“Cas, I was thinking maybe we could go grab lunch in the food court before we go?” Dean ventured.

“Dean, I love you very much,” Dean flushed and ducked his head, “but I would rather not spend another second in this godforsaken hellhole.”

Dean conceded, knowing fully well about Castiel’s fear of crowds. It had taken some kissing and pleading to even get him to come today. The hunter nodded his head and threaded his fingers through the angel’s, joining him on their way out.

They left without another word. Dean stayed silent until they got in the car, and let go of Castiel’s hand. He wasn’t quite pouting, per se, but he was very hungry! Halfway home, Cas turned to him.

“We can go get burgers if you’d like…?” A smile broke out on the hunter's face as he jerked the car around. Burgers at the local diner had become the pair’s staple date, so much so that the owner knew then by name.

As they sped off to get their grub, the smile widened on Dean’s face. He reached out and grabbed Castiel’s hand in his own, happy to be exactly where he was.

The enormous metal door clanged open, prompting excited outbursts from Charlie and Donna. The two had taken a surprising liking to each other in the week they had spent together in the bunker, and at this point it was strange to see one without the other.

“Boys!” Donna called out, “Get down here, and tell Jody that the Southern Ocean is totally a thing!”

“The what?” Dean asked jovially. Everything was brighter in the bunker with their family around, the air felt like it was doused in joy.

“The southern ocean,” Jody said, “Donna claims that there’s an ocean around Antarctica called the Southern Ocean, but I know for certain that it didn’t exist when I was in school,” Jody, Donna, Charlie, and Bobby were seated around the war room table. Despite their supposed argument, Donna’s feet were settled comfortably in Jody’s lap, and they were smiling at each other lovingly. Dean would never admit it, but they were a really cute couple.

“I’ve never heard of it,” he supplied as he walked down the stairs, Cas close behind. It earned a “Ha!” from Jody, who pointed at Donna victoriously.

“Jodyo, that doesn’t mean anything! Deano here barely got an education--no offense, sunshine--we should ask a more reliable source!”

“Hey!” Dean called out. He may not have gone to college, but he still went to school. He went unanswered.

“I’ve never heard of it either, and I’ve been around longer than anyone here,” Bobby put in.

“And yet you thought Australia was part of Oceania yesterday,” Charlie said with a cheeky grin. Dean had no clue where all these geography based arguments had come from, but he would be the first to admit they were hilarious.

“Listen here, ya idjit, this ‘Oceania’ didn’t even exist when I was young. Don’t be ageist,”

Charlie scoffed and tried to snark back, but Jody interrupted her.

“Alright, fine,” the sheriff said, “Cas, you’re an angel. Is the Southern Ocean a thing?”

“Yes,”

“See!” Donna exclaimed.

“But,” he continued, “It was only established in the year 2000. So I think you’re both right. Jody didn’t learn about it in school, but it is real,” The women stared at each other, not quite knowing how to react.

“Huh,” Jody said eventually, “Cool, I guess,”

Charlie rose and sidled up beside Cas.

“I tried to tell them that,” she whispered, “Even looked it up on my tablet. But nooooo, they only trust the angel,” she said it all with a smile on her lips, despite the tone of her voice.

After Jack restored everyone and released all his power back into the world, the boys found out he had done them one last favor. Not only had he brought back the Charlie from apocalypse world, he also revived their Charlie, the one killed by Styne. It was awkward at first, but the two actually made fast friends. Apocalypse Charlie had decided to spend this Christmas alone with Stevie, like Patience had with her dad, so it was just the original Charlie hanging with them this year.

“Alright,” Dean said, “As weird and nerdy as this conversation has been, Cas and I have some presents to wrap,” he held up the bags in his hands to prove his point.

“Have fun, boys,” Donna waved them away, and the two headed towards their room.

They stopped in the kitchen along the way, greeting Sam and Eileen who were working on the stuffing, which Dean had assigned to them. He had taken charge of all the cooking this year, working all of their guests to get ready for the feast he had planned. Dean snagged a beer for himself and Cas from the fridge and signed a quick Have fun, Moose Sam’s way before heading out. With Eileen back, the residents of the bunker had all gotten much better at sign language, and Dean was very proud of how far he’d come.

They passed Claire and Kaia watching Home Alone in the Fortress of Deanitude. They stopped by to give them a quick greeting and hugs, but left them to their movie. Claire had said she wanted to educate her girlfriend on the culture she’d missed, but Dean was sure it was just an excuse to cuddle with her. Lord knows he’d done the exact same with Cas.

Jack was wrapping presents in his room, and Dean had to remind him again to keep the door closed while he did.

“But why, Dean?”

“I told you, they’re supposed to be a surprise. That’s why we wrap them, so it kinda defeats the purpose if someone sees what it is before it’s wrapped.”

“Why is it a surprise?”

“Because that’s part of the Christmas spirit. Random things that someone might not even want wrapped in colorful paper stuffed under a dying tree.”

“Okay!” he said with a smile.

Finally, Cas and Dean made it to their room. They had decided on Cas moving into Dean’s room when they got together, considering Castiel spent barely any time in his and Dean’s mattress was better.

They wrapped in silence for a while, before Dean spoke hesitantly.

“I think I’m going to tell them, tomorrow,”

“Tell who what?” Cas turned to him and put down the blanket for Charlie. Dean’s tone was worrying.

“Tell everyone here about us, that we’re dating.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Then why haven’t you told them yet?”

“I’m scared,” Dean and Cas had made a rule the day after they got together. They would be completely honest with each other. Not more lies, tricks, or deception. They were so bad at communication that they pined after each other for twelve years before getting together, and Dean was determined to never let anything like that happen again. Hence the honesty.

“Why?” Cas moved forward, pulling Dean’s hand into his own, “You don’t think they think two men being together is wrong, do you?”

“Nah, of course not. There are more gay couples in our family than straight ones. I’m scared that they won’t want me to be with you because you’re an angel. We’re hunters, babe! Hell, I tried to kill you when I first met you. I know they love you, but what if they don’t think you should be with a human like me?”

“Dean, tell me. What was Sam’s reaction when we told him?” When Dean finally told Sam, a week after Jack brought Cas back and Dean kissed him for the first time, the man’s reaction had essentially been, “finally, you idiots!” It was so much better than Dean’s insecurity had told him that he nearly started crying. Nearly.

“He said we were idiots and was proud of us for finally getting together,” he grumbled.

“And Eileen?”

“She hugged us and gave me a link to something called ‘Archive of Our Own’ that had creepy stuff about us written on it.”

“Jack?”

“He asked if that meant we were really both his dads now,” Dean had actually started crying that time.

“So do you really think the rest of them won’t approve?”

“I know, I know. It’s stupid, but there’s this voice in the back of my head just telling me that they’ll leave me, eventually.”

“It’s not stupid, love, it makes sense. Dean, know that I will never leave you again. And nobody out there will. We love you, we’re your family. Dean Winchester, I promise you that not a single person in this bunker will ever leave you out of choice,”

“Thank you,” the hunter whispered, then leaned forward to kiss his angel softly. Minutes later, after they finally broke apart, Dean made a decision.

“I’m going to tell them. Tomorrow, when we open presents. I love you Cas, and I need people to know that.”

“I’m proud of you, my love,” Cas smiled kindly, cupping Dean’s chin, “Now, let’s finish wrapping these presents, then maybe we can join the girls and watch that movie. I find Marv very funny,” Dean pulled him in for another kiss, then went back to Claire’s nunchucks. He wrapped them in copious amounts of tissue paper, shaping it like a wrapped shirt. Pranks on Claire were his favorites, and tricking her into thinking a weapon was some kind of disappointing Christmas sweater was going to be fun .

The next morning, Jack bounded into their room at six o’ clock sharp. Dean had made the mistake of telling the kid that he couldn’t wake them before six, assuming he would sleep in like every other morning and get them at nine, maybe. Apparently not.

Jack flopped on the bed on Cas’s side that was regularly empty. Not like Dean would ever admit it, but the both of them loved cuddling. It was a rare occasion that Dean woke up without Castiel’s back pressed comfortably to his chest.

Gone were the days when Dean snatched a gun from beneath his pillow if he was startled from sleep. Cas could do that to a man. Today he just grunted tiredly.

“Dean! Cas!” Jack whispered excitedly, “It’s Christmas! Like, actual Christmas, not the one we had with Ms. Butters!”

“Yeah, kid,” Dean grumbled, lifting his head to look over Castiel’s shoulder, “It is. But the sun also hasn’t risen yet, so could you give half an hour?”

“Okay!” Jack said, not fazed, “I’ll go get Jody and Donna!” Dean nodded, brain still addled from sleep. A thought occurred to him.

“Wait, Jack,” he called out, “Be quiet, and only wake up Donna!” Dean had seen Jody in the morning, it wasn’t a good idea to wake her against her will.

Jack nodded, still excited, and rushed out of the room. Dean shoved his face back into Castiel’s neck, breathing in the comforting scent of honey and ozone. He actually wasn’t sure how their guests hadn’t noticed them sleeping together, but they hadn’t mentioned it, so he guessed they just never felt the need to venture to this part of the bunker so late at night.

Exactly thirty minutes later, after Castiel had woken and the two had made no effort to leave their cozy bed, Jack reappeared in their doorway.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling as bright as ever.

“Sure, Jack,” Cas said, very excited for his first Christmas as well, “why don’t you get everyone together in the war room and we’ll meet you out there.”

“Okay!” he said before rushing off again. Dean didn’t know how he had so much energy so early in the morning.

“You ready for this?” Cas asked, giving his boyfriend a peck on the cheek and standing up.

“Yeah,” Dean said, “I actually think I am.”

“Then let’s go,” Cas said determinedly before grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling him up beside him. They headed out the door side by side, clad in scooby doo and bumble bee pajama pants with old band t-shirts on top.

The war room held what Dean thought his heaven must really look like. Sam and Eileen were curled up in one of their brand new armchairs Dean had chosen to sit by the tree, signing at each other with lightning speed. Jody was on the ground with her legs stretched out, Donna’s head in her lap and a cup of coffee in her hands. Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Jack all sat as close to the presents as possible, and Dean didn’t miss Jack trying to peek into a bag with his name on it that Dean had put there last night. It seemed like the girls were trying to explain some of their favorite Christmas traditions to him, but the nephilim just looked lost.

Bobby was seated in the other armchair, and Charlie leaned against its leg. Their family was all here, and it was a beautiful sight.

When Donna caught sight of the pair, a big smile split her face.

“Deano, Angel Boy!” she called out, “Don’t be shy! Come on over here, there’s plenty of room. Maybe Jody’ll even let you put your head in her lap too!” From the look on Jody’s face, Dean didn’t think that was going to happen.

Cas headed in in front of him, and settled himself down right beside Donna. Dean joined Charlie leaning against Bobby’s chair.

“Dean,” Jody grumbled, “that boy of yours woke me up at the asscrack of dawn saying that you told him it was okay.”

“I told him to wake Donna up,” Dean gave a meaningful look at Jack, “because I know she’s an early riser. I specifically told him not to wake you, so I’m wondering why exactly he did?” Dean, Cas, and Jody turned to Jack while he heard something that sounded suspiciously like “Oooooh, someone’s in trouble,” from Claire. Dean shot a glare her way before turning back to Jack.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he explained, “I was super excited and I really only meant to wake up Donna but I think we talked too loud and woke up Jody too. I’m sorry,” and there were the puppy eyes. Damn kid had learned them from Sam, and who was Dean to resist.

“Alright, Jack, I’m not mad at you,” he gave in, “Just remember to never wake Jody up again. Capeesh?”

“Yes, I capeesh,” Jack nodded, repeating a phrase Cas had obviously taught him. Jody smiled at him kindly, letting him know that she wasn’t still angry at him. No matter how grumpy Jody could be in the morning, she was one of the kindest people Dean knew.

“Not that this hasn’t all been just touching,” Eileen said and signed, “But could we open presents now? I got up this early for a reason, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Dean said, “Go ahead and start handing them out, kid.”

Jack scrambled to grab the first present he could get his hands on, and thus the present exchanging began. Some families did it one at a time, taking a moment for each present. Not the Winchesters and company. They ripped into their gifts at lightning speed, only taking the time to fawn over the present and thank the gifter profusely before moving on.

Kaia loved the books from the brothers and Cas, and squealed when she saw the warding necklace Claire made her, kissing her girlfriend cheerfully. At the same time Donna was thanking Alex for her “#1 Sheriff” mug while Jody protested that she, in fact, was the best sheriff. Their exchange was interrupted by a shriek of “ Nunchucks!!! ” from Claire, which caused Jody to glare at Dean for ten minutes straight. Charlie leapt up and hugged Dean and Bobby when she found a Baby Yoda blanket and working futuristic gun side by side. Bobby loved his new hat as much as Sam loved the beanie Jack got him, and Jody gave Donna a big kiss for her new gun. Alex loved her mythology and medicine book, and Eileen actually got two guns due to miscommunication. She couldn’t have been happier. Cas gave Kaia and Claire an enormous hug to thank them for a new tie, this one stitched with wings and halos. Towards the end, Dean gave Cas a bumblebee beanie and Cas gave Dean socks with pie on them. Dean had to hold himself back from kissing the man on the spot.

Finally, once the present exchange had died down, and everyone was left admiring their new possession, Dean had no more reason to put it off. He had shifted over to sit beside Cas while they all opened their gifts, so he turned to Cas, whispered in his ear what he was going to do, then took a deep breath.

He started to stand up, felt awkward, then sat back down. He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, and couldn’t for the life of him start talking.

“Spit it out, Dean,” Bobby grumbled.

“Heh?” he asked.

“You’ve been shifting around for five minutes like you’ve either gotta pee or you need to say something. I’m betting on the latter, so don’t keep me waiting.”

“Oh, um,” Dean started, his stomach in knots, “Well I do actually have something I need to tell you. All of you. Except for Sam, Eileen, and Jack. They already know, see… And now I need to tell the rest of you because it’s very important but know that I think about it I’d rather not--”

“Dean,” Jody said gently, “You can tell us anything. I promise.”

“Ok, well, um… ok. So, you remember the whole Chuck infinity snap everyone dies thing?”

“Vividly,” Donna said.

“Well we lost Cas right then too. Not for the same reason, that’s a story for another day. Anyway, we lost him, It was…” he started to get choked up. Head in the game, Winchester , he thought, “It was horrible but Jack brought him back and after that the two of us kinda started… dating? Like, we’re together now,” he finished with a grimace, disappointed with his… well, talking skills. Cas grabbed his hand comfortingly, and smiled at him with eyes that said I’m proud of you .

“Uh, Dean,” Claire said, breaking the silence, “We know.”

“Huh?”

“Honey,” Donna cut in, “You two aren’t exactly subtle. To be honest, I thought you two lovebirds were together from the moment I saw you together, and Jody had to convince me you weren’t. Recently though, it’s kinda obvious, sweetheart. You’re both so much happier. You still do the staring thing, but it’s less intense. Castiel’s ASL name for you is literally ‘freckles.’ And you really think we didn’t notice you sleeping in the same room? We thought you knew that we knew.”

“You… knew?” Dean asked, shocked. Donna nodded, “And you’re like, okay with it and stuff?”

“Dean, why wouldn’t we be. I’m dating Jody, Claire’s dating Kaia, why the hell do you think we wouldn’t approve?”

“No, no, not that. It’s just, Cas is an angel. Literally and figuratively. I thought you might not like that we’re not the same… species?” By now Cas’ arm was wrapped around Dean, and he had slouched into his side.

“Well, you were obviously wrong, weren't cha? None of us could ever think Cas is a monster, and you two obviously belong together,” Donna said kindly.

“I'm proud of you, boy,” Bobby added, making Dean duck his head and grin.

“Thanks Donna, Bobby,” he said, “I’m sorry I doubted you. And were we really that obvious?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said in his gravelly voice, “I’m fairly certain we were. I thought they knew already at first, but as you are more well versed in human interaction, I trusted your judgement over my own,” at this, Claire cracked up, quickly joined by Alex and Sam.

“Not that this hasn’t been the most awkward conversation ever--except a certain dinner--” Dean and Sam shuddered at the memory, “but I would really appreciate some breakfast. And I was promised pie?” Claire said with a smile, cutting the tension in the room with ease.

Hours later, after breakfast and pie had been eaten, and Jody had already taken away Claire’s nunchucks until further notice, Dean and Cas were left alone in the war room.

“That went a very different route than I expected,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around the angel’s waist and leading him towards their room.

“That seems to happen often in our lives, Dean,” Cas replied.

“Is it a good thing?”

“Right now, I think it is.”

Dean stopped Castiel in the doorway of the hall, and looked up at the plant hanging above their heads.

“Mistletoe,” he said, then drew his angel in for a kiss.

Christmas truly was a magical time of year.

#Destiel #Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Castiel #fic #fanfic #writing #Ao3 #Christmas #family #fluff

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lesbianlovelanguage · 5 years ago

Note

hey tay! how about: situation #28, sentence #15, person(people) steve/billy 😊 thank you!

Hi bb!!! Sorry this took forever, it just kind of kept going haha.

Enjoy! 28. Love Confession and 15. “If you think I don’t have feelings for you, you’re dumber than I though.” (I also added college!au because why not?)

Billy had thought moving to college would have meant freedom from Hawkins, from his dad, from the memories of a certain kiss in the dark. He had packed his camaro and never looked back as he sped out of that shit hole town. It wasn’t until he was unpacking his couple of boxes that it finally hit him. He had done it. He was out.

Then he walked into his second college class, Forensic Science 101, and spotted that damn head of perfectly styled gravity defying hair, and met wide brown eyes. They stared at each other for a whole minute before Steve was tugged away by some spunky looking blonde with a jean jacket that was more patches than denim.

Billy watched them take a seat towards the front of the hall, and then deliberately made his way to the back. He hoped that this would be the only incident of bumping into an old face, but when had he ever had that much luck?

The second item listed in the syllabus, written in bold 12 point times new roman, was a group project due at the end of the semester, and the professor just had to announce that they were assigning partners by last name. When the list was projected up Billy could have screamed.

Of course.

Of fucking course, on his first day of college, when he thought he was finally safe and free from Hawkins and all that came with it, he had to get paired up with King Steve for a fucking semester-long assignment.

By the end of class, Billy’s pencil was chewed to bits and his anxiety was through the roof. The bell caught him off guard, and as the rest of his classmates were filing out of the hall, he was slowly packing up. It wasn’t until he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder that he saw Harrington waiting at the end of the aisle Billy was in. He looked equally nervous, bottom lip red and puffy from biting it. Billy started thinking about other ways he could make Steve’s lips look like that, thoughts steering to Tina’s graduation party and a shady corner in the backyard. Before he could dig himself too deep of a hole, a soft cough brought him back to reality.

“So, I guess we’re partners?” Harrington asked hesitantly.

Billy just replied with a grunt and pushed past Harrington to leave the lecture hall. He didn’t have time for Harrington’s ridicule and judgemental looks. But before he could ditch him, Billy felt a hand grab his jacket sleeve and tug him backwards, prompting him to spin around and face Harrington again.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Harrington,” he growled. Harrington dropped his hand as if he had been burned.

“Jeez, sorry. Who pissed in your cheerios, Hargrove?”

“Piss off.” Billy started walking away again, until Harrington jumped in front of him.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry. We do need to work on this project together though.”

“Yeah? Well we haven’t even gotten an assignment sheet yet,” Billy shrugged. Steve dug into his bag and pulled out a thick packet.

“Um, hate to be the bearer of bad news Billy boy, but we actually did?”

“Fine. We can figure out some time to meet and go over this stupid project.”

“Great! I was thinking three times a week? at like 6?”

“Mmm, ‘fraid not Princess. Once a week, on Thursdays, at 7. Meet in the library. Final offer.”

“Jesus,” Harrington said, “You really haven’t changed. Still the same asshole who’s too good for anyone?”

“No, Princess. Just too good for you,” and with those parting words, Billy pushed past Harrington and snached the packet out of his hands. He heard Harrington squawk in protest, but before he could pull another stunt to stall his departure, Billy was ducking out the door and striding through the quad.

And thus, their schedule was set. Billy successfully avoided Harrinton in the classroom by sneaking in at the last minute and sitting in the very back in order to be one of the first out with the bell. During their study sessions, Billy remained quiet and aloof, responding to all of Harrinton’s questions with biting cynicism and witty insults. He finally stopped trying four weeks in, and now they simply met, put a couple hours into their project, and then left.

This lasted until the second to last meeting they had. The Thursday after Thanksgiving break found the two boys in the library like every other Thursday of the semester. They were going over every detail, reviewing their conclusions, and finalizing their presentation for next Friday.

Billy was packing up his stuff, getting ready to go home when he heard Harrington clear his throat.

“Hargrove, wait. I-I uh, I can’t make it next week.” Billy froze.

“Harrington, are you kidding? We present the next day, what the hell?” Billy couldn’t believe it. All semester Harrington had been riding his ass about being on time to their stupid little meet ups, and now he wanted to just ditch it right before the end?

“I’ve got another commitment,” Harrington said, and Billy noticed his ears were bright red. That’s when it hit him.

“Oh, I see.” Billy felt a downright nasty smirk take over. “King Steve’s got a date huh? Tell me Stevie, is she another Wheeler bitch, or is she the spunky blonde you’re always with? What’s your type these days Pretty Boy?”

“Fuck off Hargrove. God, why are you such a dick all the time?” Harrington complained, sounding every part the spoiled brat he was.

“Just part of the charm, Princess.” The smirk only got bigger, started to resemble a sneer with the way his lip curled up and his teeth showed.

‘Never let them see you hurt.’ he thought, feeling jealousy pool in his stomach.

“So who is it Pretty Boy? Ice queen or punk band reject?” Billy sneered.

“It-it’s not a date.”

“Oh, please. You’re redder than a fucking tomatoe. C’mon Harrington, what’s a little gossip between pals?”

“We are not friends,” Harrington growled, finally reaching the end of his patience, “and if you refused to answer my questions after Tina’s party, I don’t see why I have to answer any of yours.” Harrington crossed his arms and pursed his lips.

“What the absolute fuck are you talking about Harrington? You didn’t ask me shit after that night.”“Yeah, because you never let me!” Steve practically shouted. He quieted down after a sharp glare from the pruny old librarian behind the desk. “You practically disappeared after that night.”

“Yeah, because I already knew what you were going to say, and I didn’t need that shit from some bumpkin fuck right before I got to leave that tiny shit town.” Billy leaned forward as he practically spit the last words, getting up into Harrington’s blank face.

“Oh, if you’re so smart, what was I going to say Billy?” Harrington seemed unmoved by Billy’s presence, only scrunching up his nose a little and shifting his shoulders.

“Fuck this. I don’t need your interrogation now. Enjoy your date, and just make sure your fucking essay is finished.” Billy adjusted the strap of his bag, and pushed past Harrington to leave him behind. Unlike their first collegiate interaction, Harrington didn’t follow. Billy made it all the way out of the library and around the corner before having to stop and take a few deep breaths. He didn’t know how, but Harrington had the innate ability to get under Billy’s skin. Ever since that Halloween party, where he gave Billy one glance over and moved on to follow some prissy looking ice princess.

After some deep breaths, the urge to punch something slowly faded to a simmer, at least enough to make his way back to his dorm.

Monday came, and with it Forensic Sciences 101. He pulled the usual routine of coming in late, only to find a certain mop of brown hair sitting in his usual seat. Billy made the educated decision to tuck tail and beat it. There wasn’t an attendance policy anyway, skilling wouldn’t hurt.

Using that logic, he also skipped Wednesday’s lecture just to be safe. He decided to use the time to study for another final coming up, and headed to the library. He was deep in the zone, reading about the historical significance of guinea pigs in ancient South American culture when suddenly his textbook was ripped away from him.

He jerked up to see who the thief was. Standing before him was the same blonde that hung around Harrington so often, and she looked pissed.

“Can I help you?” Billy asked, raising an eyebrow and staring her down. She didn’t even flinch as they suddenly ended up in a silent staring match. After a few tense moments, she suddenly smiled and plopped down in the seat next to him.

“Name’s Robin. You’re Billy Hargrove right?”

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“Okay, listen. I’m friends with Steve, basically his only friend on campus,” she said with an exaggerated eye roll, “and I’m here to tell you to talk to him, please. The little pining sulky thing he’s got going on was cute at first, but now it’s just kind of sad and annoying, so whatever happened between you two? I don't care, just fix it.”

“And what makes you so sure it’s me he’s pining over or whatever? It’s probably that chic he has a date with tomorrow.” Billy leaned back in his chair, trying to feign nonchalance.

“Because,” she stretched out the word, “Dingus abandoned me during Forensics to sit in the back, even though his eyesight is terrible, all because he knew a certain blond always sat in the back. And then when you ditched, he was silent for like, an hour.”

“Yeah? Wow. Real compelling evidence you got there chief. Unfortunately, I’ve known Harrington for longer and I know that’s not the case. There’s nothing going on between us.” Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Now can I please have my textbook back?”

“Not until you agree to talk to him,” she fired back.

“Oh yeah, I’d love to have that discussion.”

“What, big tough guy like you scared of what a dingus has to say? What’s got your panties in a twist Billy Joel?”

“None of your business. Now scram.”

“Nope,” she said, popping the p. “I need my best friend back. Besides, don’t you guys have a presentation on Friday? I can guarantee unless you two talk whatever out, he’s gonna be practically useless.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on!” His volume began to raise, only to be lowered again in the face of the librarian. He leaned closer to Robin instead. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. It's. Not. Happening.”

“Fine. I guess it’s not what I’m thinking. After all, what do I, a lesbian from a tiny town in rural Illinois, know about mutual gay pining?” She said, leaning in to Billy too. They were practically bumping heads at this point, exchanging harsh whispers. But, as the term ‘mutual gay pining’ came out of her mouth, Billy squinted his eyes and smirked menacingly.

“I see. You’re just some dyke who’s projecting her failed love life onto her bff in hopes of not being so lonely. Guess what buttercup? You’re dead fucking wrong. So fuck off, and go draw more tits on your shoes.” Robin leaned back in mock offense, before matching Billy with her own wicked smile.

“Oh okay. First off, fuck you, but I’m going to let it go because I know you probably have some deep seeded internalized bullshit. I had to help Steve through the same shit this semester. You’re from Hawkins too right?” One manicured eyebrow popped up, before she continued on her tirade. “Secondly, I’m never wrong. I saw the way you straight up stared at his lips that first day. Fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him? Real no homo of you.”

“Are you done?” Billy asked, preparing to pack up and piss off. He didn’t need this shit, he had too many finals coming up.

“Sure, if you’re ready to talk to Steve?”

“For the last time, take your psychoanalytical routine and fuck off.”

“Fine, whatever. Enjoy your pining anguish and ruined project.” She stood up, and prepared to turn away, before shooting over her shoulder, “By the way, I’m not sad or lonely. I actually have a girlfriend cause I’m not a pussy.” With that, she walked away, leaving Billy floundering for a scathing retort and coming up empty handed. He huffed and settled into his seat again to study, but suddenly he couldn’t focus on the guinea pigs. Sighing, he packed up and went to eat dinner.

Over the next two days, Billy tried to go about business as usual, but found himself staring off into space a lot more, Robin’s words echoing in his ears. Finally, Friday came about and Billy had to face the music. Or at least Harrington.

He got to the hall 30 minutes early, in order to sort his papers and double check all of his notecards were in the right order. Apparently, Harrington had the same idea, because he was already seated in the second row, head bent in concentration as he fussed over a stack of papers.

Billy walked down the aisle, hands in his pockets. When he reached the row where Harrington sat, he cleared his throat. When Harrington’s head shot up in surprise, Billy was taken aback for a moment by the positions they found themselves in, reversed from that first day.

Billy’s eyes flicked downwards before he shuffled through the seats and flopped down into the seat next to Harrington.

“I uh, I got my papers. Gimme a sec, and we can put them all together.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, quiet so as to not break the hush an empty lecture hall seemed to require.

“Okay.” Harrington’s voice was equally as soft. Billy began rifling through his bag to pull out the folder containing his portion of the project, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harrington squirm nervously, bouncing his leg and chewing at his thumbnail. Robin’s words came back to him, “he’ll be practically useless.”

Billy pulled out the folder and sighed as he turned to Harrington. Here goes nothing.

“How was your date yesterday?” he asked, wincing a little at his choice of conversation starter.

“I told you, it wasn’t a date,” Harrington snapped, continuing to bounce his leg rapidly.

“Fine, fine. How was your commitment?”

“Fine,” Harrington said, clipped. They lapsed into another bout of tense silence.

A few minutes passed before Steve finally broke.

“What did you think I was going to say to you?” he asked, but he resolutely didn’t look at Billy. He chose instead to focus on his hands as he picked at his cuticles.

“Oh, okay. I guess.” He paused to clear his throat. “I guess you were looking for me to say it was an accident, a drunk mistake or whatever. Didn’t need to get rejected in person when I knew it was coming anyway.”

Suddenly, Harrington burst out laughing. It wasn’t very long, but just enough to piss off Billy.

“What’s so funny Harrington?”

“You thought I was going to reject you?”

“Yeah. Brush it off as a drunken mishap and go back to fucking ice princess or whoever.”

“Oh my god, Billy.” His first name rang in his ears. It was the first time he could remember Harrin-Steve calling him by it. “If you think I don’t feel anything for you, then you’re more stupid than I thought.” Steve’s voice carried the boisterous laugh until it began to dwindle into quiet timidness as Billy just sat there, blinking, before shooting up.

“See you’re already insult- wait, what?” He faltered, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I said, if you think I don’t feel anything for you, if you think I regret it or brushed off what happened as some drunk mistake, you’re more stupid than I thought.” Steve said, the last part holding a light teasing tone.

“You... but… you’re…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not what? Not gay?” He paused before reaching out to gently offer his hand. “I’m not. I’m bisexual? I think? Robin’s better with the terms or what not, but um, basically I like both?”

Billy sat down heavily before hesitantly grasping Steve’s outreached hand.

“I guess that makes sense, but you really like me?”

“Yeah. I mean, you are an asshole, but I also saw how you were with Max and El, and even Will sometimes. You have a soft side, er. Well, softer.” Billy cracked a smile.

“I like you too Pretty Boy. Have since that one Halloween.”

“God, we’re dumbasses, huh?” Steve moaned. “Robin's going to hold this over me forever.”

“I think she’s just going to be happy we’re not ‘mutually pining dinguses’ anymore.” Steve snorted, before looking up and squinting at Billy.

“Wait. Did she talk to you?”

“Yeah, she cornered me in the library Wednesday. You know, she kind of reminds me of a pitbull, all protective of you.”

“Yeah. I’m still gonna chew her ass. I told her specifically not to talk to you!” Before Steve could go into a full on tirade against his best friend, other classmates began to trickle in. Steve and Billy dropped hands and faced forward, prepping for their presentation again. However, just before the professor officially began class, Billy leaned over and whispered in Steve’s ear.

“You know anywhere we can talk after class? Privately.” He emphasized the last word, blowing a little puff of air, and watching Steve shiver.

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I have an apartment,” he stuttered.

“Perfect.”

Hope y’all liked it! As always, my askbox is always open to prompts, it might just take a minute to get them out.

#tay writes #prompt fill #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove college au #harringrove ficlet

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smallblueandloud · 4 years ago

Text

fsk emotions: the playlist

(i’d like to apologize in advance for how long this is going to get. UPDATE: yeah, this is around 4k, i am So Sorry.)

in case y’all weren’t aware, i have fitzskimmons emotions ALL THE TIME. my poor friends have to deal with me texting them at 11 pm like “i’m freaking out about fsk again” embarrassingly often. so, i figured i’d try to share some of those emotions with y’all, in the form of songs from my private fsk playlist on spotify.

that playlist is 63 songs long. hopefully i will not feel the need to talk about ALL 63, but i’m not going to make any promises. y’all know what i’m like about this. i’m planning on giving you a list of the songs for your listening pleasure, and then go into detail about the lines / vibes from each song that i think especially fit the ship. we shall see how this goes.

just a warning: my music taste is very all over the place. i associate the sound of 80s love songs with fsk, so there’s gonna be a few of those, but also some weird obscure indie songs and some pop and just... bear with me, okay? these songs are in no particular order, because i have no idea how to make a “”legit”” playlist or whatever the heck y’all are doing to make such good mixes. i’m just gonna stick a tracklist here and move on.

can’t fight this feeling // reo speedwagon

gravity // sara bareilles

new year’s day // taylor swift

don’t go breaking my heart // elton john & kiki dee

dancing in the dark // bruce springsteen

born to be yours // kygo & imagine dragons

i choose you // sara bareilles

ordinary people // john legend

carry on // fun.

blackbird // the beatles

thunder road // bruce springsteen

the long and winding road // the beatles

the archer // taylor swift

army of angels // the script

paper rings // taylor swift

lucky // jason mraz & colbie caillat

wonderwall // zella day

team // noah cyrus

i melt with you // modern english

cornelia street // taylor swift

coroner’s report // molly ofgeography

two // sleeping at last

fair // the amazing devil

arms unfolding // dodie

making love out of nothing at all // air supply

all the song explanations are under the cut, because this is going to get long. there’s also ten honorable mentions if you manage to make it to the end of this. let’s get started!

1. can’t fight this feeling // reo speedwagon

i felt legally required to put this one first because i literally named my magnum opus after it. i like this song a lot on its own, but it specifically reminds me of fsk because the idea of your partner(s) as the place you will always gravitate towards is peak fsk for me. also, these three are canonically each others’ reassurance and rock and i’m just... i love them a lot, okay? this song’s imagery and lyrics have come to be inextricably associated with fsk for me and i love it a lot.

important lyrics: “And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night”

“And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore“

2. gravity // sara bareilles

this one goes second because it’s probably my favorite song of all time. i play it on repeat whenever i’m feeling sad or anxious or pining or happy or just... anytime, lmao. but i also think it’s a very fsk song, and more specifically the fitzdaisy relationship! not only does it have more of that “gravitating towards each other” theme (more literally in this case), but the lyrics are also... very much fitzdaisy, i think, who are very much each others’ safe space and have been vulnerable with each other from the very beginning.

important lyrics: “ Oh, you loved me 'cause I'm fragile When I thought that I was strong But you touch me for a little while And all my fragile strength is gone”

(although really every single lyric fits really perfectly, so go and check out this song! it’s genuinely my favorite song ever and i think everyone would benefit from a listen or two)

3. new year’s day // taylor swift

the most underrated song from reputation, this song is probably the most INTENSELY fsk song i’ve ever heard. these three have grown up together, have changed together, have left their mark on each other in ways that can never be undone. the thing i’m most nervous for in the series finale is the show completely ignoring that impact (along with all three’s relationships with coulson and may especially!). no matter their romantic configuration, none of them would be the same if they hadn’t known the others. and new year’s day really articulates that, along with a really sweet feeling of trust and the image of them cleaning up together after a party - which makes perfect sense when you think about canon, and how they’d stick together even after leaving the life-changing experience of shield. even though there’s no more life-changing adventures, they’re still going to be together, and that means something. y’all, this song is really good and the best fsk song ever and you NEED to listen to it.

important lyrics: “Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you And I will hold on to you”

“Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere”

4. don’t go breaking my heart // elton john & kiki dee

look, just let them be happy, okay? also, i really love the trust aspect of this song, which i associate intensely with the fsk relationship. after all of the betrayal and pain and suffering they’ve experienced, i really love thinking about how much all three must trust each other, even in canon. also i wrote a fic where all three danced to this song and now i won’t ever get that image out of my head.

important lyrics: “Don't go breaking my heart I couldn't if I tried Honey, if I get restless Baby, you're not that kind”

“And nobody told us 'Cause nobody showed us And now it's up to us, babe Whoa, I think we can make it“

5. dancing in the dark // bruce springsteen

okay, this song is a bit darker than the others but i am a secret lover of springsteen, shh. also the mood works VERY well for three agents of shield who haven’t gotten a break since they left college. i really like the idea of them making their own happiness in the middle of the darkness together, because that’s part of why i’m so emotional about them! they are each others’ safe space and protector!

important lyrics: “You can't start a fire Sitting 'round crying over a broken heart This gun's for hire Even if we’re just dancing in the dark”

6. born to be yours // kygo & imagine dragons

heck yeah, let’s talk about the fact that no one in the ot3 would be the same if they hadn’t met the others! not just that, but the fact that they support each other and are a big reason why each of them have made it through the pain of the series with, like, less trauma then they could’ve. fitz was there for daisy when she developed her powers and is the one who talked her into coming back in s4, daisy was there for jemma when she came back from maveth (and in the framework), and jemma and fitz have been supporting each other since they worked things out in s3. also, they know each other insanely well and i think this song does a great job of expressing that!

important lyrics: “I never knew anybody 'til I knew you I never knew anybody 'til I knew you And I know when it rains, oh, it pours And I know I was born to be yours”

7. i choose you // sara bareilles

they! change! together! thank you for coming to my ted talk! also, i’m just... very obsessed with the idea of them choosing to be together, choosing to try to work through their problems, even when there have been so many. i am also obsessed with the idea of them spending their lives together. leave me alone.

important lyrics: “We are not perfect we'll learn from our mistakes And as long as it takes I will prove my love to you I am not scared of the elements I am underprepared, But I am willing And even better I get to be the other half of you”

8. ordinary people // john legend

i really, really love this song, actually? i’m a big fan of a lot of his music lmao. but i like this song specifically because it’s about how complicated love can be sometimes, and i think fsk’s love gets really complicated sometimes! and like, despite it all, they love each other and they’re trying to work it out. but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s really hard sometimes! (shoutout to the fic i titled with a lyric from this song that exemplifies that exactly)

important lyrics: “I know I misbehaved and you made your mistakes And we both still got room left to grow And though love sometimes hurts I still put you first And we'll make this thing work but I think maybe we should take it slow”

9. carry on // fun.

first off, this song has INTENSE post-framework fitz vibes. this is very much how i headcanon his relationship with violence works after they escape from the framework and fuck canon. but also, just, the idea of them all healing together? the idea of them moving on together after shield? poetic cinema. chef’s kiss. they’ve all changed SO MUCH since the show started, and yeah, not all of that change is good! but at least they’re still together.

important lyrics: “You swore and said we are not We are not shining stars This I know I never said we are Though I've never been through hell like that I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back”

10. blackbird // the beatles

i don’t know what about this song reminds me of jemma but something in this song reminds me of jemma, and fitz and daisy helping her heal. regardless, i am So Into them helping each other heal! mostly because the way that the show refuses to give them a break is SO FRUSTRATING. (also it tends to involve them being soft with each other and i am Weak.)

important lyrics: “Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly”

11. thunder road // bruce springsteen

this is probably my second favorite song of all time. i am Absolutely Unbiased For Sure. regardless, i adore the imagery of this song, the contrast between the poetic feeling of it and the down-to-earth lyrics. this song, to me, is about people coming back to each other at the end of a long long journey. being in love while tired and recovering from a long, painful, messy life. and that just fits them... so well.

important lyrics: “Well now I'm no hero That's understood All the redemption I can offer girl Is beneath this dirty hood”

“With a chance to make it good somehow Hey what else can we do now Except roll down the window And let the wind blow back your hair? Well the night's busting open These two lanes will take us anywhere“

(y’all do not understand how hard it was to not copy All The Lyrics. you really really have to listen to this song.)

12. the long and winding road // the beatles

EXACTLY THE SAME THING THAT I SAID FOR THE LAST SONG. god this song works so well for them. they are never going to be able to leave each other because they’re so interconnected and yeah, part of that is circumstance, but so MUCH of that is CHOICE. they CHOSE to spend time together, they CHOSE to spend time together, i’m getting emotional over here.

important lyrics: “The long and winding road That leads to your door Will never disappear I've seen that road before It always leads me here Lead me to you door”

13. the archer // taylor swift

this is THE definitive daisy pov song. try to tell me i’m wrong. you can’t. daisy showing vulnerability is a BIG DEAL because of how easily she deflects things! she shows vulnerability to people she loves, most notably mack, coulson, fitz, and jemma! it physically pains me to think about how much she trusts them, y’all. there’s also this sense of melancholy throughout the song, because she’s never going to be the person that she once was. I’m Upset, Y’all.

important lyrics: “Combat, I'm ready for combat I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you Easy they come, easy they go I jump from the train, I ride off alone I never grew up, it's getting so old Help me hold onto you”

14. army of angels // the script

this song is courtesy of @theclaravoyant, who recommended this as THE fsk song, and i think she’s very right! they fight TOGETHER, y’all. i’m very emo about it. their love is TRANSCENDENT and helps them OVERCOME their obstacles and i’m Really Upset About It, okay?? this song especially sounds like jemma’s voice, but it works so well for any of them and i Love It.

important lyrics: “When they got me cornered Close to giving in Oh I feel you round me like a second skin”

15. paper rings // taylor swift

*sobbing* i just want them to be HAPPY. i think part of my feelings about this song stem from, like, how fsk manages to find love during really, really dark times? and manages to be in love with each OTHER during the events of the show, which are VERY DARK as i think we can agree. and yet they managed to get together! and they managed to stick together! and idk, y’all, i’m just so soft for permanent partnerships and people being Married(tm) and this song brings that in SPADES.

important lyrics: “Kiss me once 'cause I know you had a long night Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause you waited your whole life”

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this“

16. lucky // jason mraz & colbie caillat

this song just SCREAMS domesticity to me and no it’s absolutely NOT because i used a lyric from this song to title my collection of domestic fsk ficlets, i have no idea where you would get such a ridiculous idea. they are all BEST FRIENDS okay and they’re in LOVE and they come HOME TO EACH OTHER at the end of the day. they genuinely like spending time together. god, this song is so cute, i love it so much.

important lyrics: “I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend Lucky to have been where I have been Lucky to be coming home again Lucky we're in love in every way Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed Lucky to be coming home someday”

17. wonderwall // zella day

before you tell me i’m being stupidly cliche, look at the artist. and then realize that the artist doesn’t make a different for how cliche i’m being. first off, this is such a wlw song (google that one car commercial if you don’t believe me) and skimmons is kind of. my peak wlw song. but also this song is so lovely because it’s about people persevering through challenges to be together, even their own feelings, and that’s VERY good and VERY fsk. i’m just very gay, alright? leave me alone.

important lyrics: “And all the roads we have to walk are winding And all the lights that lead us there are blinding There are many things that I would like to say to you But I don't know how Because maybe You're gonna be the one that saves me And after all You're my wonderwall”

18. team // noah cyrus

this song is from @bobbimorseisbisexual’s fsk playlist (thanks al i love you) and it’s VERY GOOD for this ship. god, i have so many emotions about them being on the same team (which is part of why it’s so FRUSTRATING when the show tries to split them up-). especially because trust is such a big aspect of their relationship? look, these are three people who have been betrayed a lot, even by each other. it’s so IMPORTANT that they trust each other to be on the same team!! (also this song is one of the only songs i’ve ever heard that’s apparently singing to both a man and a woman, and i’m gonna ignore the fact that it’s a duet. let me have my poly songs.)

important lyrics: “Whenever you're winning I'll give you strength, boy And I'll share your name, girl 'Cause I'll always be on your, I'll always be on your team Yeah, I'll always be on your team”

19. i melt with you // modern english

this song is sponsored by @florchis, who not only was the person that first told me about this song but also named her entire fsk collection after one of the lyrics. she has very good taste. first off i love how high-energy and happy this song is. declaring your love for someone is a VERY fun thing to do in the best of circumstances! and i just love the idea of them taking time for each other in the middle of all of their shield business. i love them so much, y’all.

important lyrics: “Moving forward using all my breath Making love to you was never second best I saw the world crashing all around your face (let me hear you) Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace (c'mon)”

“I'll stop the world and melt with you You've seen the difference And it's getting better all the time There's nothing you and I won't do”

20. cornelia street // taylor swift

YES, i know this is the FOURTH tswift song on this list. she’s really good at songwriting, okay? also... y’all.. the VULNERABILITY. the LONGING. the idea of having to deal with the very real fear of loss fits VERY well for a ship where everyone involved is in mortal danger three times a week. also, the idea of never being able to separate the memories of a place from the people? that’s peak fsk. i know i keep saying this but they’re all HUGELY INFLUENTIAL on each other and it’s a BIG DEAL!! they’re never going to get over this relationship, this love, and I’m Never Going To Get Over Them.

important lyrics: “And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

21. coroner’s report // molly ofgeography (aka @ofgeography)

first off, everyone should listen to this ENTIRE ALBUM because it’s VERY GOOD. secondly, i know this song is really sad but imagine this as steeling yourself for the series finale. canonverse fsk hurts SO MUCH, y’all, and i love them so much. the metaphor in this song is *chef’s kiss* and the guilt of losing love is.... yeah. i’m sad. please be sad with me.

important lyrics: “How do you bury love, and what gets carved into the stone? If I had waited by the window would love be safe and back at home?”

“We held hands in the procession, black and veiled and strange You said, ‘love was good when love was here,’ it didn't ease the ache“

22. two // sleeping at last

okay i definitely think that part of this is me being an extreme 2 and therefore considering this song the Peak of Romance. which is probably a little unhealthy but leave me alone. i don’t know enough about enneagram types to diagnose any of the ot3, but definitely this song resembles all of them to some extent, especially daisy. (i am in pain.) this song, to me, feels like daisy pining for fs in canonverse. (i am in PAIN.) she would ABSOLUTELY give parts of herself up for them and count on the fact that they wouldn’t notice. god, this hurts so much. i love this song so much. if it helps, i think in a happier universe they all also sacrifice parts of themselves for the others? which hurts too but in a good way.

important lyrics: “Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat”

“I just want to build you up, build you up 'Til you're good as new And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too“

23. fair // the amazing devil

this song is CRIMINALLY unknown. GO LISTEN TO IT RIGHT NOW AND THEN MEET ME BACK HERE. this song just screams fsk at me. the humor, the depths of love, the good-natured resentment, the depths of love... god. it’s so good. i definitely think the strength of their emotions for each other overwhelm them sometimes. i think they find comfort with each other, i think they tease each other, i think they’re disgustingly in love all the time. god.

important lyrics: “She promises to fight them all when it all becomes too much And he, he curses at the world for Leaving him behind and he's falling out of touch And she is stronger than he's ever been he knows And she brushes her hand through His hair, he's got so much fucking hair”

“And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay And when they're sure no-one can hear them She'll turn to him to say, she'll turn to him and say It's not fair, It's not fair how much I love you“

(yes i DID copy more than i’ve been copying for the rest, because the songwriting in this song and album are PHENOMENAL and YES i will harass y’all until you listen to it because LOOK AT HOW GOOD IT IS.)

24. arms unfolding // dodie

i know, i know, this is a really short song. but it’s really pretty and i think it fits daisy, like, extremely well. think about daisy during early s4, specifically. she loves them enough to break down her walls. that’s what this song is about. and that’s what i’m gonna go cry over now. god this post is so long what the heck.

important lyrics: “Hope I'm not tired of rebuilding 'Cause this might take a little more I think I'd like to try Look at you And feel the way I did before”

“You know I could live without or with you But I might like having you about“

25. making love out of nothing at all // air supply

okay, so i admit it, i’m actually a HUGE fan of really cheesy 80s music. but i really love this song for them? especially jemma. i think it fits jemma really well. first off, it’s that good old vulnerability with admitting that she doesn’t know everything! and it’s admitting that she specifically doesn’t know what she’s doing with this relationship! and admitting how much she loves both of them even though she might not have wanted to! and i think she’s just... so amazed, so so amazed at the way that fitz and daisy are able to forgive and be loving even when they’re in the worst situations? which is definitely a big message of this song. (oh jemma, i love you and your violent tenancies. i see al’s valid criticisms and i am Loving You Anyway.)

important lyrics: “I know all the rules and then I know how to break 'em And I always know the name of the game But I don't know how to leave you And I'll never let you fall”

“And I don't know how you do it Making love out of nothing at all”

jesus CHRIST this got long. i actually also had a bunch more songs that i didn’t have a LOT to say about but i thought they fit anyways, so uh, honorable mentions:

can’t help falling in love // elvis presley (”wise men say only fools rush in / but i can’t help falling in love with you”)

the longest time // billy joel (they’ve influenced each other)

after all // peter cetera & cher (they’re never going to be able to forget the influence they have on each other)

leave a tender moment alone // billy joel (daisy pov for skimmons. that is all)

she // dodie (i am Soft and Gay and skimmons is also Soft and Gay)

bremen // pigpen theatre co. (honestly idk what to say here, it’s just The Vibe)

say something // a great big world (similar vibe to ordinary people)

saturn // sleeping at last (Science and also Influence On Each Other)

celeste // ezra vine (thanks to al for this one too, i REALLY want to write a fic about them and this song at some point)

you’re the inspiration // chicago (i just love the sound of this song. also i think all of them - but jemma especially - are inspired by the others to be better)

#agents of shield #fitzskimmons #meta #fandom song rec #ot3: you can't imagine your life without them #sb and l rambles #sb and l watches aos #music #jesus CHRIST this is so LONG i'm so SORRY #on the other hand i am NOT because this is a VERY GOOD ESSAY ABOUT FSK IN MY HUMBLE OPINION #i hope y'all enjoyed it!! thanks for making it to the end if you managed to!

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orangeoctopi7 · 5 years ago

Text

Gloves VS Mittens

@forduary Week one is Creation/Destruction. This fic is definitely on the Creation side of things.

For most people, it’s just a matter of preference. But for Stanford, just having a choice at all was something he rarely had...

***

When Ford was four years old, he first started taking notice of the fact that his hands were not normal. It started with a Hanukkah gift from a distant aunt: a pair of gloves for Stan, and a pair of mittens for himself. The two of them were so used to getting the exact same of everything that it immediately struck them as odd.

"Hey Dad, how come mine are different?" Ford asked.

"Because they don't make six-fingered gloves." Filbrick grunted.

"Why not?"

"Because normal people don't have six fingers. Haven't you noticed?"

Caryn smacked her husband with her magazine. "Dear!"

"What? If he hasn't already figured it out--"

"He's four, Filbrick."

"He's gonna have to know sooner or later! Coddling him ain't doin' him any favors. The world's not kind to what's different, so we may as well prepare him now!"

"I'm not… normal?" Ford asked his parents. He wasn't quite sure what to do with this information.

"Nope." Filbrick replied bluntly.

"Oh who wants to be normal, anyway? Normal's boring. You're special." Caryn took her son into her arms and kissed his forehead. “Now go outside and play with your brother."

While Stanford took his mother's words to heart, he soon found that being special had little to no practical benefits. Sure, it was nice to have something of his own for once, but Ford soon realized that while Stanley could use his mittens if he wanted, Ford couldn't use his brother's gloves. Not that Stan would ever want to use the mittens. They limited his dexterity to the point where it was hard to make a snowball, or even do something as simple as point.

"It's not fair!" He complained to Stan as he struggled to draw a face on the snowman they were working on. "It's like trying to do everything with a sock puppet on each hand!"

"It can't be all bad." Stan reasoned. "Plenty of people wear mittens, right?"

"I guess so…" Ford remembered quite a few Christmas decorations with people wearing mittens, and he'd seen a few wearing them out and about the city.

Stan grabbed one hand and held it up, looking at it more closely. "I bet all your fingers are warmer, bundled together like that!"

"But it's hard to zip up my coat, so I get cold anyway." Ford mumbled.

"I'll help you zip it up!" Stan promised.

***

As the years passed, Stanford found another advantage to wearing mittens: nobody could tell he was a freak if they couldn't see his extra fingers. Sure, it didn't fool the people who already knew him, but it was nice to be able to pretend he was normal when they went up to New York City to go shopping.

As for the dexterity problem, most of the time he'd just have to ask Stanley to do whatever it was for him. If he got tired of that, or if it simply wasn't an option (like during a snowball fight between the two brothers) he'd just take his mittens off. Sure, it was icy cold, and Ma always scolded him if she caught him, but that was a small price to pay for a good snowball.

Ford found he didn't mind wearing mittens all the time, until he started highschool chemistry class.

***

Ford was so excited to start his first real chemistry lab. He'd been doing his own chemical experiments with a chemistry set he got for his birthday when he turned 12, but the school chemistry lab had so much more to offer him! Actual Bunsen burners, more than one beaker and three test tubes, and best of all-- a variety of chemicals much wider than what he could find in his family home!

"Now, before we start, I'm going to go around and make sure everyone has all their safety equipment on properly. Make sure you've got your goggles on over your eyes not your forehead, and your gloves on your hands not in your pocket." Their teacher, an easily distracted middle-aged man, made his way around the room, checking each group. "Oh, right…" he paused when he came to the Pines twins. Stan had on his gloves and goggles (onto which he had drawn googly eyes with a wet-erase marker). Ford had on his goggles, but…

"I don't need gloves." Ford insisted. "I've never used them with my chemistry set at home."

"Yeah!" Stan agreed, "We took apart a car battery one time and didn't get any chemical burns!"

The teacher blanched at this revelation, and he opened up a supply closet at the back of the room. After some digging, he pulled out a pair of sturdy work gloves that looked like they were meant for a giant.

"Here," he tossed them to Ford, "These should be big enough. You'll just have to fit two fingers into one hole."

Ford grumbled as he pulled the gloves on. After some experimentation he found that sticking his second and third fingers together was the least uncomfortable arrangement, but the glove was still too bulky and awkward. He kept on pouring too much acid into the solution and completely missing the titration point.

Relying on Stan to do it didn't yield much better results, as his brother was too impatient, and kept on pouring the acid too fast, once again missing the titration point. Finally, when the teacher was distracted by other students, Ford just took the gloves off. Then he got it first try.

This ended up being the pattern for Ford's chemistry labs throughout the rest of his highschool years. Fumble through the lab until the teacher's back was turned, and then strip the oversized gloves off. He was extra careful, and never got anything on him that could do any real harm. One time he did get a bit of copper nitrate on his skin, but all that it did was make his hands dry and itchy.

***

When Ford started college at Backupsmore University, he quickly realized he wouldn't be able to just pull an awkwardly large glove off when the teacher wasn't looking. The class size was much too small. What's more the TA overseeing their lab, a young man by the name of McGucket, was clearly a sharp and observant individual.

"Hmm, obviously this ain't gonna work." He observed as he passed out supplies to Ford's table. "I think y'should be fine fer now, we're only working with acetic acid today, but that ain't gonna be the case fer the whole semester. You got a free hour after lab?"

"Y-yes."

"Great! Meet me in the Grad-lab, we'll make ya a special custom pair!"

"What--really!?"

"Sure! We don't want you messin' around in the chem lab with no gloves on, but messin' around with gloves that don't fit right is even worse!"

Ford finished his first lab with no trouble. In fact, he finished early, so he cleaned up his things and headed to the Grad-lab, just down the hall from his own classroom, and waited. All the graduate students there ignored him, too caught up in their own studies to even notice a lowly undergrad.

After several minutes, McGucket entered. "Alright, this is gonna take a while, you sure you got time?"

"This is my last class of the day."

"Perfect. Now come over here and we'll get started." The grad student led Ford back to a table with many five-gallon buckets. He pried the lid off of one, revealing its dark blue, slimy contents. "This here's the silicone-rubber I use t'make molds fer my machine parts. If'n ya jus' stick yer hand in here and let it gel, it should make a nice glove, like a second skin!"

"You want me to stick my hand… in that?" Ford asked incredulously.

"Pshaw, it ain't that bad!" McGucket assured him. "It's like… well, y'ever stuck her hand in pig slop?"

"No." Ford said slowly, his eye twitching just a bit at the thought.

"Oh, well nevermind then. I guess you can jus' drop outta chemistry 112"

Ford sighed and plunged his hands down into the bucket. It was pretty gross, but he got used to the slimy sensation after a few minutes. He slowly pulled his hands out, letting the viscous fluid slide off his fingers.

"How long does this take to dry?"

"Gel." McGucket corrected. "First layer'll probably take 'bout half an hour. It goes faster if'n ya use a settin' spray, bit that tends t'irritate the skin."

"First layer? How many layers will it take?"

"Only two. Ya want it thick 'nuff it'll protect yer skin, but thin 'nuff that it's flexible an’ peels off easy."

"So I'm just supposed to stand here for a whole hour? What am I supposed to do for all this time? I-I've got homework!"

"Well, I'll pull ya up a chair." McGucket rolled over a chair for him and opened his backpack. "An' maybe I can help ya with yer homework."

They sat there for an hour, McGucket reading Ford's textbooks and Ford asking questions about the material. The grad student was impressed with the workload this freshman had taken on.

"I wanted to go to West Coast Tech, but that didn't work out." Ford explained bitterly. "So I'm going to have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously by the scientific community."

"Believe me, I know the feelin'." McGucket nodded. "Most folks don't take a roboticist from the Tennessee hills seriously either. But there's some perks to attendin' a smaller University. The dean lets us do whatever we want! I've built lots o' robots I never woulda gotten away with at MIT."

"I suppose that's true." Ford admitted. "I'm interested in anomalies and cryptozoology. At West Coast Tech, I probably wouldn't be able to study those."

The hour passed more quickly than Ford expected. When he pulled the gloves off, they turned inside out, showing all the wrinkles and ridges of his skin in relief. He liked it. It was much more personal than some disposable pair.

“I’m sorry for complaining so much at the start. What you’ve done for me is incredibly generous. Thank you.” Ford said sincerely.

“Think nothin’ of it!” McGucket assured him with a friendly smile. “Can’t ‘spect you to go through the whole class without proper gloves.”

“No, really, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Well, I s’pose not. But I imagine ya don’t get somethin’ as simple as a pair o’ gloves offen.”

“N-no.” Ford instinctively hid his hand behind his back.

“Well now, ain’t nothin’ to hide!” McGucket elbowed him. “You could have two heads, fer all I care, with how well you un’erstand superconductors!” He waved goodbye as they exited the lab. “See ya in class on Wednesday!”

Ford found he gained more than just a new pair of gloves that day.

***

The custom gloves were nice, but they didn’t last more than a couple of months before they needed to be replaced again. He spent a lot of time in the Grad-lab talking to Fiddleford over the next few years. By the time graduation rolled around, Ford had learned to make the silicone-rubber compound himself. It was something he continued to use as he moved out to Gravity Falls. Being able to make his own gloves was so convenient! After all these years of being stuck with ill-fitting gloves, or no gloves at all, he’d never really realized how useful they were. And now he could have them whenever he wanted! As time went by, he improved upon the original silicone-rubber formula, making the gloves more durable and long-lasting.

As he got used to wearing gloves while he worked, the fact that he didn’t have winter gloves became more and more annoying. It was easy to ignore at Backusmore, where it rarely snowed and stayed warm for most of the year. But Oregon was farther north, and Gravity Falls was in the middle of the temperate rainforest. It snowed all winter long. It was so frustrating when he encountered an anomaly out in the snow and couldn’t hold his pen properly to take notes in his journal, either because of his mittens, or because his hands were too cold and numb from not wearing his mittens.

Oh well. As irritating as it was, he was used to it by now.

***

Out in the multiverse, just finding something to keep himself warm at all could be a struggle. Many of the dimensions he visited didn’t have human inhabitants, so finding something to wear on his hands at all was an impossible ask. Ford learned to wrap strips of cloth around his hands and fingers to keep them warm. It worked pretty well, although it took a lot longer to wrap the cloth in such a way that he could still move his fingers individually than it would to simply slip on a glove.

Of course, sometimes he got lucky. When he became ruler of the Finger Dimension, for instance, the people had made him a pair of silk, fur-lined gloves. They were very nice, but obviously more for fashion rather than function. He ended up trading them away for some tools shortly after he was banished by the Finger Dimension’s new ruler.

But Stanford had bigger things to worry about than the comfort of his hands in his interdimensional travels.

***

Stanley found the gloves while he was digging around the portal’s control console, looking for any clues as to how to get the thing working again. It was like a punch to the gut, but really, finding anything of Ford’s was like a punch to the gut. Stan still remembered that first Hanukkah when he’d gotten a pair of gloves, and Ford got a pair of mittens. He still remembered all the awkward times in their chemistry class where he’d had to do all the fine measurements even though he was terrible at it, until the teacher looked away long enough for Ford to take the oversized gloves off. He was glad his brother had finally found a way to get his own pair of work gloves.

His mind wandered, unbidden, to the fact that his brother was now lost… somewhere… without them. Without a lot of things he needed. Stan pulled on the gloves and made a fist, watching the extra pinky sleeve flop uselessly. He grimaced. Right. Back to work.

***

When Ford turned sixty-four, he was used to wearing mittens. He’d long ago accepted that the winter months came with a loss of dexterity, and honestly, over the past nine months of sailing through arctic waters, he’d been fine. He knew Stan had his back when he couldn’t properly wrap a finger around his blaster’s trigger. And when he knew he was going to need his blaster, he just didn’t wear them. He hadn’t gotten frostbite yet. In the middle of June, it wasn’t even worth worrying about. He wouldn’t even be thinking about it right now if it wasn’t for the birthday gift his niece had just given him.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your mittens in a lot of the photos you sent us.” Mabel explained. “And I figured you probably have to use all your fingers for boat stuff, like tying knots, or signaling merpeople! So I made you these!” She handed him a pair of hand-knitted gloves, made up of a mix of red, blue, and green yarn.

“I wanted to send you some while you were still sailing, but I’d never knitted gloves before, so it took me a while to figure it out.”

“She went through a lot of yarn the last few months.” Dipper agreed. “Like, even more than usual.”

Ford slipped them on. They were a perfect fit.

“How…?”

Stan suddenly started whistling for no reason. Ford shot him a knowing look.

“What? Don’t look at me like that! So maybe I kept an old pair of your gloves while I was workin’ on the portal. Not for, like, sentimental reasons or anything. Good work gloves aren’t cheap! And it’s a good thing I did keep ‘em, they were the perfect model for Mabel. I just had to tell Soos where I left ‘em and asked him to send ‘em to her.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Ford’s voice wavered with emotion. "This is-- the fact that you put in all that time and effort, just for me-- and such a thoughtful gift! I-I've never really had a pair of winter gloves before… well, except for that pair from the Finger Dimension, and those were more ceremonial than anything else."

"So you like them?" Mabel asked, eyes bright.

"I absolutely love them. They're perfect!" He hugged her. "Thank you!" He turned to Stan. "Thank both of you!"

"Eh, I didn't do anything." Stan rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"You provided the model. I have you to thank for the fact that they fit so well."

"I have an idea, if you want to test them out now." Dipper suggested. "Remember that snow spell we tested out last week?"

"Oh, right! Great idea, my boy!"

"Yeah, just test it outside this time, so Soos doesn't have to mop up after you again." Stan advised.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Forduary 2020 #Stanford Pines #Mabel Pines #Fiddleford Mcgucket #My Writing

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martinskis-lydias · 4 years ago

Text

i could be your love right now

pairing: Scott/Lydia, Stiles/Derek (mentioned)

word count: 1865

warning: none

notes: sex is discussed (not in detail and not actually had in the story), also, though it isn’t explicitly stated, scott is pansexual because that’s how i see him and also i said so

“It’s not fair! You’re winning because of the werewolf thing,” Stiles whined as Scott beat him at yet another Mario Kart race.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re three beers in. It’s not my fault you’re drinking,” Scott laughed.

“Stupid werewolf metabolism. Three isn’t even that much,” Stiles muttered. He threw himself onto his mattress, sighing dramatically.

“What’s up man? You’ve been… quiet all night,” Scott said. “Well, quiet for you,” he added. Stiles glared at him.

“Shut up. It’s nothing, I just… I came to a realization earlier this week and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing. If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone,” Stiles confessed.

“I promise,” Scott said, turning to give Stiles his full attention. “I just want to help man.”

“Okay. Okay,” Stiles was muttering, hyping himself up. Scott just waited quietly. “I think I’m in love with Derek,” he whispered.

Scott was silent for a minute, a little caught off guard. But he forced himself to say something when he saw how anxious Stiles was getting.

“What about Lydia?” Scott asked. Nice.

Stiles snorted. “Dude, I haven’t been in love with Lydia for, like, a year.”

“Oh,” was all Scott could say to that. He was trying to ignore the warm feeling in his chest that was growing, the feeling he’d been ignoring for a while now. The feeling he refused to name.

He shook his head. “Okay, so, you’re in love with Derek. When did that start? And why are you not sure if that’s a good thing?”

“I don’t know exactly when it started, but we’ve been spending so much time together the last couple months. At first it was because we were working on that dragon thing, but then I started studying over there, which meant we started talking. And then we hung out a few times, and I don’t know…” Stiles trailed off. “And what do you mean ‘why am I not sure?’ This is Derek we’re talking about! Derek Hale, the guy whose league is so far from mine that I can’t even see it! And even if by some small, remote chance he did like me back, he’s a complete martyr and thinks he doesn’t deserve anything good in his life.”

Scott had to admit that Derek was indeed someone who, occasionally, refused to let himself have anything that would make him happy.

“Well, firstly, I don’t think Derek is out of your league. And before you argue,” Scott said, raising his voice when Stiles opened his mouth to do just that, “I’m not saying that because we’re friends. As a dude who is quite fluid on the sexuality scale, you’ve gotten very attractive in the last couple years. College has been good for you, and if you weren’t my brother, I’d probably be interested in you.”

Stiles was blushing furiously now. Scott smirked. He really hadn’t been lying, Stiles had grown into himself since they’d graduated high school.

“Well, that doesn’t change the fact that Derek isn’t interested in me. And if he was, he wouldn’t say anything, or let himself give this a shot,” Stiles argued stubbornly.

“Okay, pal. You tell yourself that,” Scott replied sarcastically.

“What’s with the tone?” Stiles asked suspiciously. Scott shrugged. “No Scotty! You don’t get to use that tone and then pretend it didn’t mean anything! What do you know?”

“Well, I can’t say I know something… But I can make a few educated guesses,” Scott said.

“Scott, if you don’t tell me, I will tell your mom that you’re the one that ruined her rose bush in the seventh grade, not a stray dog,” Stiles threatened.

“Okay, okay! All I know is that, while Derek is a lot more sociable now, you’re the person that he spends the most time with. By a long shot. And he visits you on campus. And he relaxes every time you’re around. And he stares at you a lot when you aren’t looking,” Scott admitted.

He was pretty sure Derek had been in love with Stiles since he’d moved back to Beacon Hills two years ago, but he hadn’t realized Stiles felt the same. And it wasn’t his secret to tell. So he hadn’t said anything. But if he could help them be happy now, he would.

Stiles didn’t say anything for a while. Scott let him process everything and used the silence to think about his own feelings.

Stiles wasn’t in love with Lydia anymore. He hadn’t been for a while now. That didn’t necessarily mean that Lydia felt the same, but Scott couldn’t stop the hope that was building up in his chest. Maybe… Maybe he could try and figure it out. Maybe he had a chance.

“Hey man, would you be able to give me a ride to Derek’s? I think I should talk to him,” Stiles asked after a while.

“Yeah dude, of course.”

After dropping Stiles off, Scott drove to his favourite bakery. He figured a coffee, a muffin, and some time to himself might help him think everything over. While he sat, he went over everything he knew about his and Lydia’s relationship.

Lydia had always stuck by him.

She’s loyal to her friends and Pack, his brain argued.

Lydia always came to him first when she had a problem that she needed help with or just wanted to rant.

You’re her Alpha, that’s your job.

She touched his arm and held his hand a lot.

Pack is tactile, and she’s always been like that with you.

Sometimes she said things to him that could be seen as flirting…

You’re just seeing what you want to see.

He groaned and banged his forehead on the table, probably a little harder than was necessary.

“One of those days, huh?” A voice said from the other side of the table.

He resisted the urge to groan again; he knew that voice. If he was being honest with himself (which he seemingly was), it was his favourite voice in the world.

“Uh, yeah. Just dealing with some new information,” Scott said sheepishly, looking up at Lydia. When he finally saw her face he was a little speechless. He would probably never get used to how unbelievably pretty she was.

After a second of staring he shook himself. “Sorry, do you want to sit?” He asked, realizing he was probably being rude.

She just smiled at him, the smile that made his brain melt and his heart stutter and his palms sweat.

“So, do you want to talk about this new information?” She asked, taking a sip of her coffee and picking a chocolate chip off his muffin that he’d picked apart more than ate.

“Well, I just dropped Stiles off at Derek’s house so Stiles could admit that he’s in love with Derek,” he said. He figured that was a safe conversation.

“Oh finally. Maybe those two idiots will get their heads out of their asses and stop dancing around each other,” Lydia said exasperatedly.

Scott laughed.

“So, is that why you were banging your head on the table?”

Fuck. He’d been hoping that Stiles and Derek’s pining would be a much longer conversation.

“Uh, not exactly.” He couldn’t look at her so he picked at a chip in the table instead.

“Okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to Scott,” Lydia told him.

He looked up at her then and for some reason he suddenly couldn’t take one more moment where she didn’t know how he felt. Maybe it was the soft, concerned look in her eyes or the understanding in her tone or the fact that her scent and heartbeat made him feel safe and calm.

Maybe she didn’t feel the same, maybe she did. Either way, Lydia and he were friends, they were Pack, and she deserved to know and make the decision for herself.

“I love you,” Scott admitted. “I’m in love with you Lydia, and I have been for a while. But I kept finding excuses not to say anything but I don’t think that’s fair to either of us. I understand if you don’t feel the same and if this is weird –”

“Scott, shut up,” Lydia said quietly. He immediately stopped his babbling. “I love you, too.” She didn’t say anything else. What else was there to say really? Did it matter how long they’d felt this way? Why they hadn’t said anything? Were they sure?

But Lydia Martin was not someone who said something she didn’t mean. And in this moment all that mattered was that they both loved each other and now they both knew.

“Do you want to go to dinner?” He asked instead, and the smile on her face grew.

“I would love to go to dinner with you,” she answered.

He stood, grabbed her hand to help her out of her seat, and immediately pulled her into a kiss.

It wasn’t like the earth stopped moving, or the world disappeared. He didn’t feel fireworks or any of the other things that movies tell you a first kiss feels like. It was just a perfect kiss with the person he hoped he would get to kiss for the rest of his life.

It was over quickly (they were still in a public place) and he smiled at her again.

“Well, while I would like to keep doing that…” He held out his hand and she took it, laughing.

“Dinner, then. And maybe after you can take me back to my place and we can see what we’ve been missing out on these past couple years,” Lydia said, quietly enough that he was the only one who caught it.

Scott tripped over his own feet, caught a little off guard. He couldn’t say he’d never thought about sex with Lydia (it was Lydia, of course he’d thought about it) but he really hadn’t asked her to dinner with that in mind.

“I’m not expecting… I really had no ulterior motives when I asked you to dinner,” he assured her. He held open her door while she got in the car.

“I know. That’s why I’m not waiting,” Lydia told him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Most people I date are mainly interested in me because they want to sleep with me. But you aren’t like that. You love who I am and the fact that I’m attractive is just an added bonus.”

Scott could only nod, because that was exactly how he felt about her. And he was so glad that she knew that, that she trusted him to really see her.

“I feel the same way about you,” she told him, running her fingers along his jaw. “And we’re both very attractive people who haven’t had sex in a while, and I have a feeling we’re going to be great at it. So, dinner?”

He growled, too turned on for words. He threw the car in reverse and started towards the restaurant. The sooner they got there, the sooner they could leave.

And he definitely wanted to get Lydia home so he could see if they lived up to her expectations.

#scydia #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #scott mccall #lydia martin #teen wolf #fanfic #writing #sciles #friendship #love confessions #i might write a second part #about the sterek conversation #i made this

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anistarrose · 6 years ago

Text

Man, can you imagine all the possible shenanigans that could result from Gravity Falls and TAZ Amnesty existing in the same universe? It would be great.

Ned’s Bigfoot video doesn’t attract any FBI agents in this timeline — there’s just not enough resources to investigate all the alleged cryptid sightings these days, even the plausible ones. (Their whole department has been constantly scorned, and their funding slashed, ever since the that disaster in Oregon back in 2012.)

However, it does catch the eye of two old men who just happen to be sailing along the Virginia coast when the video is forwarded to them by their nephew, and they almost immediately make a beeline inland to Kepler. It takes the Pine Guard an embarrassingly long time to realize that there’s actually two of them — identical twins, one of which seems to be a scientist of some sort and the other of which is... well, they’re not sure what his deal is, but he definitely doesn’t give off scientist vibes like his brother. Strangely, the scientist twin seems to be a firm believer in Bigfoot and other assorted supernatural occurrences, while the other just laughs off the idea whenever it comes up.

For their part, Stan and Ford aren’t sure what to think of Kepler, either.

On their way there, they’re still both mildly skeptical (they’ve both seen plenty of hoaxes in their day, no matter how promising this specific video looks), but Ford’s instruments quickly pick up on an oddly familiar feature of the town: a perfectly circular “barrier” of sorts that extends around Kepler and has a radius of exactly one mile. If the readings and Ford’s calculations are to be believed, it could potentially trap magical creatures inside that radius, at least for a short time — an uncanny similarity to Gravity Falls and its weirdness magnetism.

When they travel to the exact center of the circle, they find a strange object in a clearing that they can touch, but not see. They deduce it to be in the shape of an archway, but no matter what they try, it remains invisible to them.

Now, it’s settled beyond any doubt that something strange is going on in Kepler, but at this rate, they’re only stumbling across more questions than answers. It’s especially strange that all of Kepler’s weirdness seems to have manifested only in the last thirty years or so — when Ford was choosing where to do his research after college, he cataloged anomaly sightings across the US, but there was nothing even remotely suspicious in this region of West Virginia back in the early 70s.

If they want to figure out the truth of this town, they'll have to have to figure out which citizens of Kepler know the truth. In order to avoid attracting too much suspicion themselves, they decide to pretend that Ford is a fairly normal, slightly gullible scientist who’s never actually encountered proof of the supernatural before, and that Stan is his more responsible brother/chaperone who’s much more skeptical about Bigfoot and other cryptids. Most people they meet seem to buy into the act without a second thought... except some of those people from Amnesty Lodge. The twins haven’t quite gotten a read on that whole group yet.

Despite their respective businesses being on opposite sides of the country, and despite not officially being in the tourist trap game anymore, Stan develops a rivalry with Ned almost the second he walks into the Cryptonomica. Hijinks ensue — Stan somehow talks his way into renting out an abandoned hotel at a criminally low price, and converts it into an impromptu tourist trap of his own. All the contents are fake, of course, but he succeeds at his apparent goal: drawing business away from Ned. After all, there’s plenty of people in Kepler who are no fans of Ned, but this new attraction? Run by a charming and mysterious pair of identical twins, including one that actually seems to know a thing or two about theoretical cryptid biology? Only in town for a limited time? Now that might just be worth checking out.

(Unbeknownst to everyone but Ford, Stan’s true motive is a bit deeper than spite. He’s always suspected Ned of knowing the truth, and is hoping to pressure Ned into showing off something actually supernatural in order to swing public opinion back in favor of the Cryptonomica — but Barclay has given Ned a stern talking-to about this sort of thing, so it hasn’t worked. Yet.)

Something else that no one realizes for an embarrassingly long time is that Stan and Ned actually worked together on a couple different heists in the late ‘70s. Of course, both of them were going by completely different identities at the time, so when they run into each other again in Kepler they don’t think anything besides “hey, that guy looks kinda familiar... I’m gonna antagonize the shit out of him while our rival tourist traps compete for business.”

Other interactions that definitely happen at some point:

Stan, making genuinely innocent conversation: so, Bigfoot, huh?

Duck, growing increasingly panicked with every word: what? Bigfoot? what about ‘em?! I haven’t seen any Bigfoots around here, and look, if you want my, uh — my professional, uh — my park ranger opinion, all the sightings, they’re just... opossums! a bunch of opossums, standing on each other’s shoulders, ‘cause, uh... ‘cause you know, opossums always carry their babies, but — but here in West Virginia, the babies don’t... always... grow... grow out of it, you know? and — and then, uh, their babies have babies, and they just stack higher and higher until it’s — it’s opossums all the way down, and there’s these big ol’ possum columns wandering the forest and people look at ‘em and think “hey! that’s a — a tall, furry thing, kinda looks like a big hairy ape! better alert the presses!” and there you have it, Bigfoot!

Stan: ...

Stan, later: Ford, you’re not gonna believe this but I found someone who’s worse at lying than you.

***

Ford: I heard you were hanging around the H2Whoa waterpark the day before its destruction. did you see any suspicious behavior? and what brought you there in the first place?

Aubrey: well, I shouldn’t really be giving out this information, but you seem pretty trustworthy, so... I work undercover as a federal pool inspector — we’re called the FPI, you see — but I’m proud to report that the investigation that day was fairly routine! no signs of anything corrupt in the management of our good Kepler waterparks, but I unfortunately have no idea what happened that night. sorry I couldn’t help you more!

Ford: ah, of course. thank you anyways.

Ford, later: Stan, I need you to be honest with me. are federal pool inspectors a thing in this dimension now

Stan: okay, one — you’ve been back for like six years, and two — who the fuck told you that

***

Indrid: so, you’re here because you think I can help you stop the disasters occurring all around town?

Ford: yes, pretty much. also, your cousin owes me fifteen dollars.

Stan: how do you know they’re related? don’t be moth racist, Ford.

***

Ford: you three adopted a monster with yellow eyes and named it Billy? really???? has this whole fucking town with all these fucking monsters just been the setup for a massive joke to be played on me specifically?!?!?!

#gravity falls #taz #taz amnesty #stanley pines #stanford pines #ned chicane #aubrey little #duck newton #crossover #gf x taz #gf x amnesty #rosalia writes misc

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kaspbrak-tozier-reddie · 5 years ago

Text

I Swear, Bill

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, slight mentions of Reddie and Benverly

Requests opened

———————————————————————

It was a normal night, Patty was finishing up dinner and Stanley was doing a puzzle in light of stimulating his mind.

As he went to place a piece into place, his phone buzzed on the glass table, scaring him. It was an unknown number from Maine. “Hello, this is Stanley Uris.” Stan answered.

“Stan it’s Michael Hanlon from Derry.” The unknown caller responded.

Stan’s mind tried to recall, Derry? Where had I - oh. Oh shit!

“Mike, Oh My God! It’s been what 30 years? What’s up man?!”

“27 actually. But unfortunately it’s not good news.”

Stan almost immediately dropped the phone once he hung up. He had a good life, he didn’t want to return. He had a wife, a good job, a lovely house, wealthy. Why would he want to go back to that ghastly place?! Sure there was some great memories, the Losers, the quarry, Bill. But the bad outweighed the good.

Pennywise

Pennywise was back and terrorising Derry?! Stan couldn’t give two shits about it but this was a chance to see his friends.

“Patty, I’m just going to have a shower.” Stan called to his wife, while he was half way up the stairs.

He turned the tap, for the bath, on and got out a razor blade. He didn’t want to but everything that was coming back to him pushed on his mind. It was overwhelming but then he thought back to Bill.

“Oh lord! I’m just as stupid as fucking Richard!” Stan whispered to himself. He placed the razor blade back where he found it and simply just had a bath. “I swear, Bill. I’ll come back.”

It was a 2 day trip for Stan. He knew he missed the happy reunion before the bullshit that was to follow.

Stanley pulled up at the only inn in town. It was maybe just as old as he was as it was a newish inn back when he was a kid and now here it was 27 years later. The paint was chipping and asbestos was obviously laced in with the paint. Great, he thought, I’ll probably have cancer from breathing that shit in. Maybe Eddie is also freaking out, he was a hypochondriac afterall.

He checked into a room and walked up the stairs only to hear screams. He ran up and was faced with a bleeding Eddie, a Beverly who looked like she was about to pass out, a Richie who was concerned for his life long crush (literally) and was pissed off at whoever did that to Eddie and Ben who had no clue what happened.

“Stan?!” Ben asked.

“Oh my god Stan! We thought you weren’t coming!” Bev chimed.

“Yeah yeah hi Stanley Urine, it’s great to see you again but can we focus on Eddie who was almost fucking killed!” Richie huffed.

“Ah, still the same old pining Trashmouth.” Stan retorted.

“What?!” Eddie demanded, confused with what Stan had said.

“Been a day and you still haven’t told the fella.” Richie was about to throw hands at Stan’s comment. “Gee Rich thought you got some balls after you kissed him at graduation and asked him out!” Richie removed himself from Eddie and was about to hit Stan but Bev and Ben stepped in between them.

“You’re one to talk. What happened with you and Bill? Never told him your feelings?”

Stan recoiled and walked in shame towards his room.

He loved Patty, she was great. She was everything he ever wanted. Even though she didn’t cook often, she was a fantastic chef. But then there was Bill.

Stan’s heart pounded whenever he saw Bill’s photo in a bookshop advertising his latest book. He always wondered why Bill looked familiar and now he knows.

Stan realised his crush on the ringleader back in senior year of high school. It was only minor at first and thought it was just one of those man crush things that will pass.

But as time went on, Stan was turning down girls left right and centre in hopes that Bill would notice him.

Sure enough graduation came and Stan worked up the courage to finally tell Bill but Bill had gotten himself a girlfriend a few weeks prior.

He had watched Ben and Bev kiss while getting their robes. Bill kiss his new girlfriend during Stan’s valedictorian speech. And finally Richie kiss Eddie deeply during the hat toss.

He could’ve sworn that Richie and Eddie got together and same with Ben and Bev but clearly that never happened. Or maybe it did but the further away they got from Derry the more they forgot.

As Stan forgot about Bill, he found himself saying yes to more dates and finally settled on a nice woman in his final year of college and married her 4 years after. No other man was as attractive as Bill was back when they were in high school. Or maybe it was just a man crush.

A knock on the startled him, making him jump a little. “Stan, we’re going to Neibolt.” Ben said, “Bill’s gone there already.”

“Okay.” Stan called back.

He had to quickly get his shit together before going. He had to be in the right mind to face tge blasted clown.

As they all walked to Neibolt, Stan got massive anxiety. Flashbacks of the 7 of them standing in front of the boarded up abandoned house. “Eddie, do you have the asthma puffer still?” Stan asked.

“No.” Eddie replied, “all I’ve got is an empty one that I’m throwing in as part of the ritual.”

“I have his spare.” Richie replied. Eddie watched as Richie handed Stan the inhaler.

“Did you make a stop at the pharmacy to get that?!”

“No, I’ve held onto it after high school. I couldn’t part with it, I never knew why.” Richie shrugged. The spare puffer had no expiration date but it’s ingredients proved that it would never go off. So Stan took a few puffs.

“Oh my god! Just admit your feelings to each other!” Stan yelled.

Eddie and Richie looked at each other in horror. It wasn’t a secret that they liked each other and Stan’s birdwatching hobby and attention to detail (his OCD in other words) helped him realise the signs. The signs that Richie and Eddie liked each other. It was also the same with Ben towards Bev and in the end Beverly to Ben.

“Bill you don’t have to do this alone!” Bev stated as soon as they reached the gate.

“You guys didn’t have to come. I want to kill this fucking clown!” Bill huffed. Classic Bill, always the hero.

“He didn’t stutter once.” Richie muttered like he had 27 years prior. “Bill. You made us walk through shitty water, you punched me in the fucking face when we were kids. You also made me beat the living shit outta the clown to save your sorry ass!”

“We’re killing this motherfucking clown once and for all, with you!” Eddie finished.

The 7 grown adults entered the building. It was worse than Stan remembered. There was dark green goop everywhere coming from upstairs. Parts of the stairwell were gone as were some of the floor.

Richie had said something to the whole group but Stan was too caught up in his regret to hear it. Just like it was back in the day, he didn’t want to go in. He didn’t want to go down into the sewers. The only time he voluntarily went into the house was when Eddie, Richie and Bikl were attacked which led to a fight between Richie and Bill because of Eddie almost bejng killed.

As the group went down the well, 1 by 1, Stan tried to regain his courage he had when he left his home. He knew that if he didn’t find it soon, he’d be killed in a heartbeat.

He watched as Bill stopped walking for a split second, so that he could walk with Stan. “You didn’t have to Bill.” Stan whispered.

“I wanted to, besides you weren’t there last night.” Bill retorted. “Tell me what you got up to.”

“Well, I became an accounted, I married a wonderful woman and have a beautiful house. You?”

“I became a writer and I married Audra.” Bill said. So that was the girl that Bill started seeing in high school. Great! “But I’m not happy.”

“What?! Bill?”

“I love Audra but there’s always been someone else that I’ve loved. He’s a renown birdwatcher but I don’t know if he still is. He had this lovely dirty blonde hair that could pass off as brown in certain lighting.”

“Bill I -” Stan was cut off by seeing a rise in the water levels. It was bare back when they defeated the clown the first time.

Stan stood back as he watched all the others swim towards the mound of wood in the centre of the sewer. But Bev was pulled under, Stan’s instincts kicked in and he dove after Bev as did everyone but Eddie.

After the ritual failed and everyone came back together aftrr facing their fears. Well Bev, Ben, Richie and Eddie. Richie was put into the deadlights. “Hey asshole!” Eddie screamed, he aimed a fence post, that Bev had broken off, and threw it into the clown’s mouth.

Richie dropped but Stan knew what woukd happen and by the look on Richie’s face, he knew too.

Next thing Stan knew, he was bolting towards Eddie, pushing him off Richie and moving the two men away just as the claw from the clown’s spider like body came down. Richie escaped with a small puncture to his forearm but he too was safe.

“We need to make him small.” Eddie said. “He could resize himself but we need to find a way to make him small and weak.”

“He didn’t like it when I called him a ‘sloppy ass bitch’.” Richie noted.

“You’re just a clown! Nobody fucking likes you! You’re a motherfucking loser!” Stan started screaming. More and more insults left his mouth, none of the losers could say much as they watched Stan’s confidence grow.

Richie ripped off a leg and started wacking Pennywise with it. As Pennywise deflated, Bill grabbed the supernatural being’s heart and popped it. IT shattered and the walls started collapsing.

They all ran far from the Neibolt house and down to the Quarry. “Before we go in, I’d like to show you all something.” Richie announced. They all followed him to the kissing bridge, not too far from where they were.

There in big block letters was a ‘R + E’ the E was faint but there. Stan watched on and looked at Bill, but wasn’t smiling at what was happening, his face was pulled in a frown.

“Bill?” Stan questioned.

“Audra ... she uh. She was taken by IT.” Bill started. “They found her car at the gas station in town, and her uh, her body looked as though someone had eaten her heart.”

“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry Bill!” Stan hugged his best friend.

“Yeah but um, seeing that Richard has gotten his confidence. I feel like I should tell this man.”

“Dude your wife has just died!”

“I know but I was still going to tell this man and divorce Audra.” Stan was slightly uncomfortable, he knew Bill was talking about him but he loved Patty. Although any feeling that Stan had towards Bill, wasn’t completely gone.

“Bill I’m married and so are you, technically.”

Stan quickly caught up to the others who were waiting for Stan and Bill to show up so they could jump as a group.

“You okay?” Mike asked.

“No, Bill admitted his feelings towards me but we’re both married and I don’t want a divorce.” Stan admitted.

“For godsake! You wanted him throughout all of senior year.” Ben said.

“We get it, you love Patty but you love Bill.” Richie said.

“Choose who makes you happy. Don’t listen to these dickwads.” Eddie stated.

His first thought as he pulled out the razor was Bill. The first person he mentally apologised to was Bill. The person he was most excited to see was Bill. As much as he loved Patty, she was way down the list of people he was apologising to.

In fact she wasn’t on the list at all! On his mental apology list was first Bill (his crush), then Richie (his first ever best friend), Eddie (his second best friend) and then Ben, Bev and Mike who later followed in the Summer of ’89.

As Bill finally entered the clearing of the cliff, Stan kissed him. He knew who made him happy and as much as he wanted it to be Patty, Bill was there for him in his moments of need. Much like Richie for Eddie.

“You’re my Richie to my Eddie.” Stan said to Bill, loud enough for the Losers to hear. Bill cracked a smile and kissed him again.

“Oh good lord! I’m offended!” The Trashmouth said fakely and placed a hand over his heart.

“Beep, beep, Richie.” Eddie said. “We jumping or what?!”

#stenbrough #stan x bill #stanley uris #stanley uris imagine #bill denbrough #bill denbrough imagine #reddie #benverly #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2

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btsqualityy · 6 years ago

Text

Don’t Let Go

Hoseok x Reader Imagine

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: fingering, protected sex

Author’s Note: So, I was supposed to have this imagine out for Hobi birthday over a month ago, but life was being horrible around that time. But here it is now! I think this is the longest imagine I’ve written but I hope you guys enjoy it!

It was all very stereotypical. Your relationship with Hoseok, that is. You two grew up together (you lived next door to each other), you both went to the same schools together, and coincidentally ended up going to the same college (something that you still, to this day, insist that Hoseok did on purpose but he refuses to admit it).

Nevertheless, he was your person. He was there when you broke your leg climbing a tree, which he dared you to do; he was there when you had your first kiss, which was also the result of a dare from him; he was there when kids in high school teased you about your braces and your intelligence; he was there when your dick of a first boyfriend cheated on you and then broke up with you; he was always there, which you returned tenfold.

Now that the two of you had graduated college, gotten jobs, and settled into ‘adulting’, he was still your person. However, instead of you complaining about the typical trials of growing up, it had now turned into you worrying about finding the love of your life, settling down, and having kids.

“I’m gonna die an old maid,” you wailed dramatically as you threw your body onto the couch next to Hobi.

“Would you shut up?” He groaned as he reached over and grabbed the bottle of soju that you were holding out of your hand. He promptly unscrewed the cap and brought it up to his lips, taking a long swig.

“But I’m serious!” You pouted, reaching up and taking the bottle away from his lips before bringing it up to your own and taking a drink, all while he still held onto the bottle.

“First off, you’re only 24 dumb ass. Secondly, if you’re so concerned about ending up lonely, why the fuck do you keep breaking up with these decent guys?”

“That’s just it Hobi. They’re decent. I don’t want to, nor should I have to, settle for decent.”

“Ok, that pep talk that I gave you after your first boyfriend broke up with you obviously worked too well,” he groaned, referring to the long talk you had with him that night so many years ago. You raised your foot and tried to kick him but he anticipated it (damn him for knowing you so well) and grabbed your foot, setting it into his lap.

“Alright, how about this?” He handed you the soju bottle before turning his head to look at you. “If you end up old and alone, I’ll marry you.”

“I’ll be too old to pop out babies though, so what would be the point of getting married? And who said I’d want to marry you anyways?”

“For someone who’s going to end up lonely, you sure are choosy,” he pointed out, making you giggle and smack his arm. “No but seriously, I will.”

“How could you want to marry me? I mean, I’m just me.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he shrugged as a small smile appeared on his face. Instead of replying, you just took another sip of soju before handing the bottle back to him.

.................

After that night, Hobi started to act differently towards you. They were really small things, things that you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been his best friend for as long as you did. Things like him giving you hugs more frequently, offering to pick you up from work so that you didn’t have to take the train, and just generally spending more time with you than he normally would. You knew it was weird, but you didn’t mention it. For one, how the fuck would you even bring it up to him? And for two, you were...actually kind of enjoying the attention. It had been a while since you’d had a boyfriend and it felt nice to be doted on for a change. Besides, it was only Hobi. There was no harm in it....at least, that’s what you thought.

“Y/N-ah,” Hobi whined, making you roll your eyes as you walked further into his bedroom. “Hurry up and come cuddle me.”

“God, you are so needy lately,” you tsked as you climbed onto his bed. He didn’t even give you a chance to make yourself comfortable and instead, grabbed your arm to pull you down onto his chest. A squeak escaped your mouth in surprise, but you quickly made yourself comfortable by laying your head on his chest while he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to keep you close to him.

“So, someone has a birthday coming up,” you sung, making Hobi whine. “What do you wanna do?”

“I’m having a party of course,” he smirked. “I’m gonna have it here at the house and it’s gonna be me, you, the guys, and a few other people.”

“Only a few?” You looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. “You said the same thing last year and the fire marshal had to come and shut the party down.”

“Oh my god, that wasn’t my fault!”

“You know what? As long as you don’t get as drunk as you did last year, this year will be a success in comparison.”

“Don’t you dare bring up the ‘incident’,” he warned.

“You already know that I am,” you smiled. “‘Oh Y/N-ah, please have sex with me. I’ve always dreamed about having sex with you,” you recited, remembering his words from the year before. “’I bet you’d feel so fucking good around me-’“ your words are cut off by Hobi’s hand clamping over your mouth.

“I thought we agreed to not bring that up to anyone,” he sighed before removing his hand.

“We agreed not to bring it up to other people, not each other,” you clarified as you shifted so that you were sitting up against the headboard and Hobi’s arm fell so it was now wrapped loosely around your waist.

“It’s not like I was lying,” he murmured, and your eyes widened. He looked up at you after a few seconds of silence had gone by and he chuckled at your surprised expression. “What?”

“Y-you’re not serious?” You shook your head.

“Come on Y/N, don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed the way that I look at you,” he said. “I would love to be with you in that way, and any other way that you’d let me.” His sudden confession has you reeling and you regress into the depths of your mind to try and figure out an appropriate reaction. Your best friend has just casually confessed to wanting to be with you, as if it was no big fucking deal. What the fuck do you say to that? Was he even serious, or was he just fucking with you?

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel a warm hand make contact with the skin of your cheek. You look down at Hobi, who’s caressing the side of your face with his palm.

“I’m serious Y/N-ah,” he murmured and you gasped at how he seemingly read your mind. “What do you think?” This was...too much. It was too much, too soon and it was fucking Hobi. You started to scoot away from Hobi, making his arm fall onto the bed as you slide off of the bed.

“I think, I,” you hesitated as you picked up your jacket and purse. “I think I need to go.” You hurriedly paced out of his bedroom, ignoring his calls of your name as you rushed out of the front door.

...........

You knocked on the door of Hobi’s apartment, already being able to hear the music blasting from inside. Today was Hobi’s birthday and you decided to show up for that party he had mentioned a few days ago. The two of you hadn’t spoken since that day, after he confessed his feelings for you. However, you weren’t going to let that stop you from spending this day with him like you did every year. Despite that, you still found yourself praying that he wouldn’t be the one to open the door for you.

Your prayers were answered when the door swung open, revealing a grinning Jimin. “Y/N!” He cheered, grabbing your arm and pulling you over the threshold before you could even reply to him.

“Hi Jiminie,” you smiled, taking a second to hug him. “How’s the studio?”

“Oh, it’s amazing,” he responded with a bright smile, the same one he got whenever he discussed his dance studio that was booming with business. “I will say that I don’t pay myself enough to deal with uncoordinated three year olds, but it pays the bills,” he added, making you laugh. “I’m surprised that you actually showed up though.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I always spend Hobi’s birthday with him,” you shrugged.

“Oh, cut the shit Y/N. You know Hobi told me everything that happened,” Jimin revealed.

“That man couldn’t keep shit to himself if he tried,” you grumbled. “So, I’m assuming Taehyung knows then too?”

“I don’t keep secrets from my platonic soulmate,” Jimin confirmed. Before you could respond, you spotted Hobi beginning to make his way over to the door where you and Jimin were standing.

“Hi Y/N-ah,” he nodded, giving you a small smile.

“Hey Hobi,” you replied. The two of you looked at each other as a somewhat awkward silence washed over you.

“Oh for the love of all that is mutual pining, get your asses upstairs and go talk this out,” Jimin demanded before turning and walking away.

“I can’t stand him sometimes,” Hobi chuckled as you did the same. “Do you want to go talk though? We can go to my room.”

“Yeah sure,” you agreed, and Hobi nodded before heading for the stairs with you following behind him.

............

“You can sit next to me Y/N-ah,” Hobi said as he looked up at you from his spot on his bed.

“I think it’s best if I stand up,” you shrugged and he nodded.

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to show up,” he confessed.

“I’ve been with you on your birthday every since I can remember. I’m not gonna miss it now because shit’s weird between us,” you shrugged. “You’re still my best friend.”

“That’s it?” He scoffed. “I’m only your best friend?”

“Why do you say it like that? You’ve been fine with being only my best friend until a few days ago.” He sighed heavily before looking up at you.

“You remember that night a few weeks ago, when I was at your house and we were drinking and you were bitching about ending up alone?” You nodded. “Well, when you said that you didn’t want to or have to settle for decent, that stuck with me. Y/N, being your best friend is only decent for me,” he admitted and you just stared at him.

“And I tried to subtly tell you but you’re so damn clueless sometimes,” he chuckled and you couldn’t help but to do the same.

��Hobi, I hear you, alright? I just, I don’t think that we should put our 20 year friendship at risk just for sex,” you said.

“Y-you think I only want to have sex with you?” Hobi questioned and you shrugged in response. “Wow Y/N-ah.”

“What?”

“You really are so afraid of me and the idea that I might actually love you, that you’ve managed to convince yourself that I only confessed to you because I want to fuck you,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes. Your eyes widened at his words. Love you? Hobi...loved you?

“I understand being afraid but why do you have to be in control of everything all the time?”

“Hobi, if I don’t, then who will? You obviously won’t,” you spit back.

“Y/N, it’s ok to loose control sometimes,” he said and you pursed your lips as you leaned back against the wall. Hobi stood up and walked over to you, setting his hand on the wall next to your ear. His other hand comes up and his fingertips lightly graze your face, making your breath hitch at the contact.

“Hobi,” you start to say but he shushes you.

“Don’t overthink this,” he pleads. “I’ve loved you for years and while I know you might not exactly love me, I know you feel something for me Y/N-ah.”

“We can’t,” you shake you head.

“Baby,” he murmurs and you feel your heart quicken at the name. “Please. Kiss me.” You knew that somebody had to be the strong one and refuse to ruin you guys’ friendship, but there’s only so much that you can take. You launch yourself forward, crashing your lips against his. He immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you steady. He shuffles forward so that your back is up against the wall and you groan against his lips. He then moves, railing kisses across your cheek, down to your jawline, and then finally your neck.

“Hobi,” you moan as his lips suckle on the skin, your arms tightening around his neck.

“God, I always knew that you’d sound fucking beautiful moaning my name,” he groaned, and you whimpered at the statement. “Y/N, can I touch you?”

“You are touching me, you idiot,” you chuckle lightly and Hobi pulls away from your neck to smirk at you.

“Still the sarcastic asshole huh?” He wondered and you nodded. “I’m serious though. Is this ok?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if it wasn’t.”

“Doesn’t mean that you want more though.” Your heart softened at that. Knowing that your happiness was still the most important thing made you want him even more. You used your arms that were around his neck to pull him closer to you and he placed his palms on your ass.

“I want anything that you want to give me,” you purred and you could see him swallow roughly.

“Alright but you asked for it,” he growled before kissing your roughly. You kissed back, twisting his jacket in between your fingers. You vaguely felt his hands leave your ass and you wondered what he was doing until you felt the button of your jeans being undone. One hand crept inside, tracing the pattern of your clit over the fabric of your panties.

“Don’t tease me,” you grumbled and he chuckled lightly.

“Impatient girl,” he tsked.

“You know that better than anyone.”

“That I do,” he nodded as he pushed his hand inside of your panties and lightly made circles on your bare clit. You widened your stance against the wall, opening your thighs to allow him more access to you. He then pushed his middle finger inside of you, making you gasp.

“That good?” Hobi wondered and you nodded quickly.

“More.”

“You better be lucky that I’ve waited so long to have you and that I can’t be bothered with drawing this out,” he gibed, adding his pointer finger as he started pumping them inside of you quicker. You threw your head back against the wall as your felt yourself tighten around his fingers as they brushed up against your g-spot.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered. “I’m close,” you whimpered, feeling your orgasm building rapidly inside of you.

“Already? Exactly how long has your dry spell been Y/N-ah?” Hobi murmured.

“Almost a year,” you whispered and Hobi paused to look up at you.

“It’s been a year since anyone’s touched you?” He asked and you nodded wordlessly. “How could anyone pass you up?” He wonders as he presses his lips to your jawline. It’s when his tongue slips out to lick your skin that you feel yourself let go, coming on his fingers as he continues to move them inside of you.

“God, you look so fucking pretty when you come,” Hobi groaned as he pulled his fingers out of you. “I want you to come on my cock.”

“Fuck me then,” you quickly replied, making him raise an eyebrow at you.

“You’re sure?” He checks again, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nod and you squeal in surprise as he picks you up, making you quickly wrap your legs around his waist to make sure that he doesn’t drop you.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Hobi mutters as he carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down on top of his comforter.

“How long exactly?” You question out of pure curiosity. Hobi smirks at you as he reaches up and shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, working on the buttons of his dress shirt immediately after.

“I mean, I’ve always thought that you were the most amazing girl ever,” he began and you reached up to help him finish the buttons on his shirt. “But if you’re asking how long I’ve been serious about my feelings for you, then junior year.”

“Of college?” You gasped as your eyes widened and Hobi nodded in response. He then took his shirt off, throwing it behind him to land on the floor. You found yourself staring at his chest, his muscles defined from years of dancing.

“See something you like baby?” He smirked and you looked up at him, rolling your eyes lightly.

“Maybe. What are you gonna do about it?” You taunted.

“Get naked for me and I’ll show you,” he countered, making your heart race a little bit faster. You grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head before throwing it off to the side. You immediately went to your jeans next, peeling them off along with your underwear. Hobi helped you, grabbing the end of your pant leg and pulling on it, helping you to get them off faster. Once Hobi had tossed your jeans to the end of the bed, you closed your thighs as you felt slightly self conscious underneath his unwavering gaze.

“Y/N-ah, I was literally just fingers deep inside of you,” he chuckled and you blushed lightly.

“I know but it’s weird,” you groaned and he raised an eyebrow at you. “I mean, we’ve been friends for forever and now you’re about to fuck me.”

“You’re not wrong but that’s exactly why you shouldn’t be hiding from me,” he murmured as he set his hands on your knees. “I’m Hobi, your Hobi,” he cooed, and you smiled at hearing him call himself ‘yours’. “Trust me.”

“I do, with everything,” you nodded as you let him push your knees apart, exposing your glistening pussy.

“And I’m so happy that you do baby,” he purred and your heart clenched at that damned pet name. After ridding himself of both his jeans and his boxers, he motions for you to scoot further up the bed and you quickly did so.

“Condom or no condom?” He asked and your lips pursed as you thought for a second.

“Condom. I’m not caught up on my birth control,” you answered and Hobi nodded as he reached over to his bedside table. After grabbing a condom, you watched intently as he opened it and slid it onto his length. He then shuffled in between your legs, setting his hands on the bed next to your head.

“One more time, are you sure about this?” Hobi wondered.

“Oh my gosh,” you chided in annoyance, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer to you. His cock brushed against your clit from the sudden movement, causing you to let out a deep groan at the sensation. “Fuck me Hobi.”

“God, that sounds even better than I imagined it to,” Hobi sighed before taking the base of his cock in one of his hands. He then slowly guided himself inside of you, the both of you moaning loudly as he sunk inside of you.

“Holy shit Y/N-ah,” he grumbled, drawing his hips back slowly only to immediately push into you again.

“Hobi, fuck,” you sighed, glancing down to where he was sliding into you. Hobi followed your line of sight, smirking when he saw what you were staring at.

“Oh, so you like that huh?” Hobi wondered and you looked up at him quizzically. “You like watching yourself get fucked Y/N-ah?”

“Hobi,” you whined, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you blushed from embarrassment. Hobi chuckled as he took one of his hands and grabbed ahold of your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face.

“It’s ok baby,” he reassured you with a small smile on his face. “It does make me wonder though.”

“Wonder what?”

“What other kinks you have that you haven’t told me about,” he grinned and you groaned as he began to delve deeper into you.

“Don’t do this to me right now,” you pleaded as you wrapped your arms around his abdomen, your nails raking down his back.

“It’s a good a time as any,” he pointed out.

“Is this what it’s gonna be like if we keep having sex?” You questioned as you looked up at him through hooded lids. “You goading me the entire time?”

“I wouldn’t be me and we wouldn’t be us if I didn’t,” he replied, halting his thrusts as he sat back on the heels of his feet. He set his hands on your hips, griping them tightly as he began to slowly plunge into you, taking his time to let you feel every inch of his cock.

“That’s what I want you to understand,” he started. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean that everything about us has to change. You were my best friend first before I fell in love with you and I’d never want to lose or change that.”

“But Hobi, people change when they’re in relationships. It’s an inevitability.”

“It doesn’t have to be. That’s just the only thing that those dickheads that you’ve been dating throughout the years have shown you,” Hobi countered as he reached down and set his thumb on your clit. Your body reflexively jumped when he applied some pressure behind his thumb, and seeing your reaction made him smile.

“Looks like you don’t even have to tell me about your kinks because you’re an awful tell,” he jested, making you groan.

“Shut up and make me come,” you sassed and he raised a brow at your demand.

“You know, I’m starting to think that your bossiness is the real reason why you haven’t been fucked in almost a year,” Hobi taunted.

“If you don’t think you can make me come, you can just say that,” you smirked, taking one of your hands and sliding it down your body towards your clit. Before your fingers could even make contact, Hobi grabbed your wrist in his hand and pinned it on the bed next to your head.

“You really wanna test me Y/N-ah?” He muttered deeply and the deep timbre of his voice sent shivers throughout your body, and you shook your head quickly at him. He grabbed your other wrist with his free hand and pinned it down on the other side of your head.

“That’s what I thought,” he said as he leaned over you again, putting renewed rigor behind his thrusts. You writhed beneath him as he plunged into you over and over.

“Hobi,” you whimpered, feeling your abdomen tighten as your orgasm approached. “Fuck, gonna come.”

“Yeah? Go ahead baby,” he murmured and that fucking name triggered the start of your orgasm, your body twitching as Hobi continued to fuck you through it. Once the main part of it wore off, you looked up at Hobi only to see him grinning like an idiot.

“What?” You wondered.

“What was that about me not being able to make you come?” He questioned and you rolled your eyes.

“Hobi, it’s been almost a year since I’ve had sex. I’d come if you breathed on me too hard,” you defended.

“You’re really asking for me to go hard on you, you know that?”

“Can’t say I’d hate that,” you shrugged. “Pull out, let me get on top.” Hobi nodded and pulled out of you and you almost, almost, whined from the empty feeling that his cock left behind. The two of you switched positions, Hobi laying back against the pillows and you climbing into his lap.

“Put me inside of you Y/N-ah,” Hobi muttered and you nodded, taking the base of his cock in one of your hands to hold it steady as you sunk down onto him.

“Shut,” you hissed, slowly lowering yourself until he bottomed out inside of you.

“God,” Hobi groaned as he wrapped his arms around your waist, setting the palms of his hands on your ass. “Fucking ride me baby.” Tucking your feet underneath his thighs, you began to raise and lower yourself on his length, loving the feeling of his cock dragging against your still sensitive walls.

“Y/N, baby look at me,” Hobi stuttered and you did as he asked, placing your hands on his shoulders. “God, you look so beautiful right now.”

“Sure you’re not just saying that because I’m naked on your cock with my tits in your face?” You teased and Hobi rolled his eyes at you.

“Of course not. I’ve always thought that you were the most beautiful woman in the world,” he replied.

“You mean that?”

“Have I ever lied to you?” He countered and you immediately shook your head. “I mean it then baby.” You moved your hands from his shoulders upwards to cup his face and you pressed your lips to his for the first time since he started fucking you.

“You really love me?” You whispered against his lips as you continued to move your hips on him.

“Always have, I think,” he replied, squeezing your ass in his hands.

“How could you love me?”

“How could I not?” He noted and you smiled against his lips as you felt your heart beat furiously inside of your chest. This was the man that you trusted more than anyone else in the entire world and you know he’d tear the stars right out of the sky for you if it would make you happy. He was also still your asshole of a best friend and it was clear that he was still alive and well, despite his profession of love for you.

“Hobi, I-,” you stammered, another orgasm beginning to creep up on you and quick. “I love you too.”

“Y/N-ah,” he gasped, planting his feet firmly on the bed in order to thrust up into you. “Don’t say it just because you feel like you have to say it back.”

“I’m not,” you shook your head. “I love you.”

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come,” he grunted, the grip he had on your ass becoming almost painful.

“Come inside of me,” you purred, and Hobi grunted in response as you felt the condom inside of you become warm as he came.

“Holy shit,” Hobi chuckled as you slowly rose up, letting his cock fall out of you. You flopped down on the bed next to him and watched as he removed the used condom and tied it up before throwing it in the wastebasket next to his bed.

The two of you laid there in silence as you tried to regain your regular breathing patterns and also as the realization of what just occurred started to really set in. You did love Hobi, you meant it when you said it but things were going to change on. What if being together intimately was going to be too weird and it messed up your friendship? What if he ended up regretting confessing to you after all?

“Hey,” he whispered as he turned his head to look at you. You looked over at him and he was pouting slightly.

“Please don’t tell me that you really didn’t mean what you said,” he pleaded and you huffed lightly.

“No, I meant it,” you reassured him. “I just, I don’t wanna lose you.”

“What?” He said as he sat up, turning onto his side so that he was fully facing you. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s rare that people find friendships like the one we have with each other. I don’t want to lose that,” you confessed. “I mean, I came to terms with the fact that we’d never be together a long time ago so this is all tripping me out a little.”

“You had feelings for me?” Hobi gasped and you rolled your eyes.

“Hobi, I was lowkey obsessed with you in high school. I just never said anything because I valued our friendship more,” you shrugged.

“Y/N-ah,” he groaned. “Don’t overthink this, or us. You’ve never had to do that before right?”

“Right.”

“So, trust me when I say that I love you and it’s going to take hell and high water to ever stop that,” he promised, making you smile widely.

“I love you too Hobi,” you replied, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. After pulling away, he looked at you with a smirk on his face.

“So, need some help with that second orgasm that you didn’t get?” He wondered.

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bts imagines #jhope x reader #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts jhope #bts hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #hoseok smut

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fordanoia · 6 years ago

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This Is What Dreams Are Made Of

Words: 1,900~ || CW: — || The parallel fic to ‘Hey Now, Hey Now.’ This time, Mabel’s Dream Bubble - But if Stan had been there for it. Following shortly after Wendy and Soos leave with their dream bubble father and friends.

“Hey, listen kid - go find Wendy, I’ll round up Soos. Let him play catch for five minutes then get him back, easy.”

Dipper nodded and set off.

Stan sighed, walked along for a while until he heard a familiar voice happily calling out for him.

“Stanley!”

“Ford?” He turned, seeing his brother hopping off a boat in the middle of the bouncy ground floor.

“Oh, so much for being captured, let me guess you already made it out, huh. This was exactly why I tried telling everyone to not even bother.” Stan gestured at him. “Congratulations on rescuing yourself.”

Ford’s face turned a bit sad, but there was no bitter or angry expression. “Stanley, listen I-”

“Wait a damn second, you’re from this bubble, aren’t you?” Stan interrupted.

Ford paused, shrugging. “Well- yes, but I-”

“Oh, isn’t that just great.” He crossed his arms over each other. “Gotta deal with an apocalypse and another version of you.”

Ford frowned, walking over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Please, give me a chance.”

“For what?” Whatever it was, he wasn’t looking forward to it.

“To tell you I was wrong.” Ford said.

“...what?” Stan blinked at him.

“Yes.” Ford took a breath. “You were right, Stanley, and I should have realized that beforehand. I never even thanked you for saving me.”

“Ya still haven’t actually.” Stan couldn’t help pointing out, and as soon as it slipped out he was ready for the jaded reply.

Instead, Ford half laughed, smiling. “An accurate assessment... Thank you, Stanley. I wouldn’t have ever gotten back home if it wasn’t for you.”

Stan’s chest felt a bit lighter, but not by much. “That’s great and all, but it’s a load of bull.” He said crossing his arms. “That punch in the face is a good enough reminder here that the great Stanford Pines isn’t grateful for me rescuing his butt.”

“That was wrong of me. There was a lot going on why I acted that way, but that’s no excuse... Not after you spent the past thirty years working every night to get me back.”

“Talking like you’re supposed to be him, huh.”

“Well, technically speaking, I am. Just a different version, like you said.”

Stan’s face pulled into a deep frown, and he didn’t say anything to that.

The silence held for a few seconds, then Ford continued, changing the subject. “Are you looking for Wendy and Soos?”

He shrugged. “Finding Soos is easy enough, just gonna go and grab Wendy. Convincing them to come along won’t be hard. Just gotta tell them to get off their butts and stop playing around.”

“That makes sense, they’ll listen to you, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Stan’s voice started to rise, sarcasm quickly filtering in until it was dripping from every word, “that’s the easy part. The hard part is trying and talking to Mabel, you know. Thanks to that oh so great and generous apprenticeship you offered Dipper!” He finally shot a scathing look at Ford.

When he didn’t say anything, just looking back at him with a slight look of guilt on his face - Stan continued.

“Thanks for that, by the way. I asked you to do ONE thing.” He held up a finger. “Just one- stay away from the kids, and look what you’ve done! I’ve never seen a pair of siblings get along like that before, but lo and behold you’re around one of ‘em for what? A couple weeks - and just look!” Stan let his frustration build, gesturing around roughly before jabbing a finger at Ford’s chest. It wasn’t really Ford so he didn’t have to hold back a single bit.

Everything poured out of him like the toxic waste stewing away in containers of the basement. “Of course, you’d split them up, Ford. You probably don’t even see what’s wrong with it. I should never have let Dipper hang around you.”

“I figured, hey - what’s the worst that could happen? You’d keep him safe at least, right? Kid’s been around enough spookums, he at least knows when something’s too dangerous. You cared enough about the kids, didn’t you? Enough that they’d be fine for a couple weeks, but no.”

“This is why I didn’t want you anywhere near the kids. I knew if it wasn’t one thing, it’d be another.”

“It wasn’t my intention, I’m sorry.” Ford told him genuinely.

Stan scoffed, contempt freely bubbling up his throat. “Because of you Mabel would rather live here than go out in the real world without a brother. She didn’t deserve this, you hear me.” His voice had been simmering, but like a switch had been flipped he started yelling in Ford’s face again - anger boiling over.

“She’s TWELVE years old, and she’s already losing her brother- because of you, Stanford!” He jabbed a finger at him again, walking towards him and making Ford take a couple steps back as he shouted. “This is all your fault! You’re ruining their lives! I should never have brought you back, damn it!” At that he roughly shoved him so hard, that it was a miracle he didn’t actually fall over.

Ford stumbled backwards, managing to catch his footing before outright falling. He took in a breath, his chest rising, and falling back down - simply just taking the words without so much as a flicker of anger across his face.

Stan breathed heavily for a few moments, all the boiling anger so high it felt like it was he was wading in a thick liquid that was all the way up against his throat. It felt like the liquid was draining away, falling lower, and then Stan realized through the haze what he’d just said.

Even worse though, he still felt it, and honestly? Maybe it wouldn’t have been better... at least Mabel and Dipper would have been fine...

Ford wouldn’t have though... so he probably would have done it again anyways... even if it was stupid. That’s just what he was though, wasn’t he...

“You were right to try and keep the kids away from me... I should have been more aware of what I was doing.” Ford said, calmly apologetic. “I’ll rescind the apprenticeship offer. A kid such as Dipper should be playing and in school, not doing some research away from everyone.”

“He’s still gonna want to go off with you.” Stan said, jaded.

“I’ll make it sound reasonable. A high school degree is necessary for any good college. I’ll just tell him it’ll have to wait until after high school. He’ll forget about it by the time he graduates. Him and Mabel will go back to how they were before I stepped in.” Ford assured him. “They’ll stick together.”

Stan didn’t say anything to that. It would have been a lot better if it’d been coming from the real Ford. “Whatever. I’m going to look for Wendy,” he eventually said, “group of teenagers shouldn’t be that hard to find.”

“Can I help?”

“I don’t care what you do.” Stan replied. As he started walking, Ford went along with him without hesitating.

-----

Ford brought it up again later, as though trying to make him feel better.

Stan leaned his head against his hands. “It’s just not gonna work, Sixer...”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “You came from here - Dipper won’t listen to you.” As much as he wish it could work...

“He doesn’t have to know that.”

Stan was taken back, and lifted his head to look over at Ford. “What?”

“Well, I’m the only version that can talk to him.” He glanced away briefly. “That other one - is just some frozen statue. He’s not doing anything.” He explained easily. “All you have to do is tell him you found me, and saved me. I’ll tell him the apprenticeship is over, and Dipper and Mabel can reconnect inside this bubble. It’s the perfect place for them.”

“What about when the kids want to go out and stop Bill?” Stan asked, something uneasy sliding into his stomach at the way Ford was talking.

“We just tell them it’s too dangerous. Time is at a standstill after all, so there’s no rush, is there? We can even tell them we’re going off to look for a solution.” Ford continued.

“Not sure about all that.” Stan said slowly. It was a good plan though. It could definitely work. Between a life-like image of his brother and himself both telling the kids to stay put, it’d work. Dipper would trust Ford that they were working on something to stop Bill, and Mabel didn’t even want to leave, of course. It was full-proof.

Ford frowned slightly. “We would finally get to go sailing, Stan...”

Stan had to retrace his thoughts, his heart leaping up at that before he drudged it back down again. “We would?” He asked hesitantly.

He started to smile, face lighting up as he talked. “Yes. Yes, we would! There’s a sea out there, Mabeland can make it as big as we want - with whatever islands we could ever want to explore. Come on, just think about it, Stan!” He encouraged him, a hand on his shoulder. “This is finally our chance to go sailing and treasure hunting. Let’s take it.”

It was smooth and warm and as tempting to swallow down as a cup of hot cocoa, just sitting right there for him. Stan blinked back tears at his brother’s face so earnestly excited and actually wanting to go sailing with him, like they were both a couple of kids again - but this time they could actually do it. There was already a boat and everything.

“We won’t have this chance outside the bubble, Stanley. This is the only way we can do it.” Limited time offer. Buy now.

He had to take a moment, bite back on what he wanted to say, then pull himself through to actually talk. “Nice pitch.” Stan finally said. “I’m not buying it though.”

As Stan went to brush its hand off of him, its other intervened and grabbed onto his shoulder to be directly facing him. “Tell me why not.” It asked in earnest.

“Because you’re not him.” The words came out all on their own.

“After everything, you deserve to go treasure hunting with a brother who wants to go with you.” It said. “Even if you fix everything, he won’t want to go sailing with you.”

One Time Only Deal! Get it before it’s g o n e

Stan wound his fist back and punched it right in the face, the thing spilling backwards. “Yeah, well you know what - maybe I never had a brother that actually wanted to go treasure hunting with me. Guess what though - I also don’t want a fake one who does.”

It sat up from the ground, glasses oddly reflecting to hide the eyes. “...What about Mabel and Dipper?”

“They’re better than we were. Plus, they’re smart kids. They’d figure out you’re not real pretty quick, pal.”

Just like that its skin turned to dark crawling bugs and the atmosphere changed around him, turning dark.

Stan shouted at the sudden change, whipping his head from the figure crumpling into a pile of twenty different kinds of bugs in front of him to literal blood red sand.

A cheerful noise caught his attention and he checked behind himself to see a distant small horse with wings singing and when he glanced back again, just like that - everything was back to what he guessed counted as normal here.

“Okay, I’ve had my fill of creepy stuff here, thanks.” He stepped his way around the spot the other had been at and ran off to find the kids again.

#me coming up with the title for these fics: [the zelda meme holding up a google doc image]#'its my parallel fic series and i get to choose the corny titles for it'#gravity falls #stan pines #stangst #gravity falls fics #my fics #gf au #c:stan #c:'ford'#me holding onto my oddly specific intepretations of dream bubble representations #Fic:This Is What Dreams Are Made Of

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emospritelet · 6 years ago

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Yes, I know it's been two years, I suck.

If anyone still remembers this fic, here's an update. I've written beyond this chapter, so I'm hoping it won't take too long to finish. Last time, Belle and Gold parted so she could go off to college and he could continue selling his body. We fast forward two years (I'd like to say that's the reason for the two year hiatus but that would be a lie. The truth is writer's block is a bitch and I'm easily distracted). Cover art by @evilsnowswan

[AO3 link]

Lying on her front on top of her bed, feet kicked up behind her, Belle turned the page of her book. She had been trying to lose herself in its words for the past hour, without much success: guilt gnawing at her over reading something frivolous that wasn’t on her list for class. It was early May, and finals were due to start the following week. She wasn’t too worried about them; she had put the study in, but she was tired after another semester of hard study and grabbing hours as a waitress whenever she could. She had managed to find a couple of part-time jobs in local diners, and had worked more hours than she had bargained for when she first arrived in Boston. College life had many wonderful positives, but the reality of her mounting student debt left her with an ever-present anxiety that was hard to shake. Hence the waitressing.

The sound of the apartment door opening made her look up, and she smiled as Ruby put her head around the bedroom door, dark ponytail swinging.

“Pizza tonight?” she asked, and Belle wrinkled her nose.

“Do you mind?” she asked. “I know we said we’d start eating more healthy stuff, but I’m exhausted.”

“Cheese, bread and prosciutto have to be three of the food groups,” said Ruby. “We can add in wine. That was fruit once, right?”

Belle giggled.

“Okay, I’m convinced. Call it in whenever you like.”

“I’ll do it now. Want to watch a movie later?”

“As long as it’s not something terrible, sure.”

“Come on, the terrible ones are fun!”

Ruby disappeared, and after a moment Belle heard her speaking on the phone, ordering the pizza. She soon returned, minus her jacket, hair free of its ponytail.

“So.” Ruby flopped onto the bed beside her and winked. “Tomorrow you’re officially in your twenties. Does Will have anything special planned?”

“I doubt it,” said Belle, turning the page of her book. “We broke up.”

Ruby blinked.

“What? Since when?”

“Since I decided to stop kidding myself. Namely last night.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Belle closed the book, tossing it aside and rolling onto her back.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “He’s a nice guy, and I know you like him.”

“Screw that,” said Ruby fiercely. “You’re my best friend! Of course I’ll support you over him! What did he do?”

“Nothing,” said Belle wearily. “It’s not him, it’s me.”

“Is that what you told him?” Ruby winced. “Ouch.”

“I know, I know…” Belle ran her hands over her face. “It’s a terrible cliché, but it was never gonna work out, I was kidding myself. To be honest, he hasn’t gotten over his ex. I told him to follow her to Europe. I think he might.”

“Wow.” Ruby shook her head. “So why did you say it was you, not him?”

“Because…” Belle screwed up her nose. “I never really tried, you know?”

“Not much point if he’s still pining after Anastasia.”

“Yeah,” said Belle gloomily. “Still, I think maybe we made each other feel better for awhile. He made me laugh, at least.”

“Well, that’s important,” said Ruby sagely.

“And I could talk to him,” added Belle. “Not about anything that mattered, not like I can with you, but at least he listened. More than most guys do.”

Ruby sniffed. “Tell me about it.”

“But,” Belle went on, “I should still never have dated him. I knew it was hopeless. All we did was go and see stupid movies and talk about crap. Like that was ever gonna help him get over her!”

“Probably better than my way of dealing with a bad break-up,” offered Ruby, and Belle grinned.

“Come on, drunken one-nighters are a rite of passage for all college students.”

“You must have missed that memo.”

“Yeah.” Belle pulled a face. “Not really my scene.”

Ruby sighed, settling back against the blankets and eyeing Belle thoughtfully.

“You’ve never really gotten over that first guy, have you?” she said frankly, and Belle shifted uncomfortably.

“I didn’t say that.”

Ruby threw up a hand in exasperation.

“Belle, you can’t keep thinking about him!” she protested. “The guy was a prostitute, it’s not like you know him! However great he was, however attentive he was, you paid him to be that way! It was all an act! You do know that, right?”

“Of course,” lied Belle. “I wasn’t even thinking about him, anyway.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.”

“I wasn’t!” she insisted. “At least - at least not much.”

“Great sex does not make a great relationship,” Ruby reminded her sternly. “Look at me! A whirlwind romance with what I thought was the person of my dreams, and three months later I’m single and miserable and wondering what the hell I did wrong!”

Belle reached out to grasp her hand and squeeze.

“You’ll meet someone new,” she said. “We - we both will. Eventually.”

“I know,” sighed Ruby. “Doesn’t stop it sucking while we wait, huh?”

“Means we concentrate in class more, though.”

“Well, that’s true. Every cloud, and all that.”

“You ready for finals?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Ruby pulled a face. “I think it’ll be okay. I haven’t screwed up in the lab in weeks. I have to ace these finals, there’s no way I want to have to take summer classes.”

“Yeah, I really need to work as much as I can, get some of this debt paid down.”

“Your dad never did come up with a surprise wad of cash, huh?” said Ruby, looking aggrieved on her behalf.

“I never expected him to, not really,” sighed Belle. “It’s cool. I’ll have paid it off by the time I’m like forty-five or something.”

They shared a grin, and Ruby pushed up on her elbows, fixing Belle with a firm stare.

“Okay,” she said resolutely. “Since we’re young, free and single, I say we celebrate your birthday together. That means a prosecco brunch with all the sugar you can eat, followed by mani-pedis and a trip to Wonderland to get the one thing every girl needs.”

“What’s that?” asked Belle suspiciously, and Ruby grinned.

“A decent vibrator.”

Gold ran a hand through his newly-cropped hair and rolled his shoulders, the interior of Wonderland a little warm for the three-piece suit he was wearing. He wasn’t sure why he had decided to don the thing for his final visit to Blue Star, but it had seemed appropriate. He had said his goodbyes to his colleagues, shaken hands and kissed cheeks, all wrapped in the armour of blue silk and fine black wool. Having agreed to accompany Jefferson to Wonderland for the purchase of some tools of the trade, he was looking forward to leaving the place empty-handed for a change. Then he could go back to his hotel room, take off the suit for the last time, and turn the final page on that chapter of his life. He couldn’t say he would be sorry to do it, however reluctant Miss Blue was to lose him as an escort.

“What do you think of these? Pretty, huh?”

Jefferson handed him a set of butt plugs in iridescent colours, and Gold raised an eyebrow.

“Does it really matter what colour they are, considering where they’re going?”

“Wow,” remarked Jefferson. “You really are off the clock, huh? Come on, give me your expert opinion while you can.”

“I’d be worried about the coating coming off,” said Gold. “Stick with the silicone ones.”

“You’re probably right.”

“What about leather cuffs?” said Gold, pointing. “You said you needed some new ones.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder.”

Jefferson went off to browse, and Gold fidgeted, fingertips toying with his hair again. It was taking a little time to get used to. The short length made the silver in it more visible, and it was strange not to have it hanging around his face, but the haircut felt right, too. Another break with the past.

“Since you’re staying in Boston, why don’t you come to dinner tonight?” said Jefferson, as he looked through the selection of cuffs and straps. “Graham’s making tacos. They’re pretty good, if you add extra hot sauce. I can promise some decent tequila, too.”

“Sounds good.”

“Come over at seven, then. You can meet our new cat, she’s adorable.”

Gold smiled. He had thought about getting a cat himself, now that he would spending more time in Storybrooke. It would be nice to have some company in the evenings. Of a different sort than he was used to.

“I’ll be there.”

Jefferson soon found what he was looking for, and paid for his choices, dropping everything into one of the recognisable turquoise bags and winking at Alice, the assistant.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, as he and Gold headed for the exit.

“Why would I?”

“Well, you never know,” said Jefferson. “Long winter nights, up in Maine, all by yourself in that big old house... A guy could get lonely.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Gold, and raised an eyebrow. “What are you expecting me to get, a bloody sex doll?”

Jefferson snickered.

“No! I just meant you should be prepared, just in case someone special wanders into your life. You have great skills, or so it’s rumoured. Be a shame to let ‘em go stale.”

“I’ll have more than enough to keep me busy, I assure you.”

“You should start getting out a bit more,” said Jefferson. “You know what they say, all work and no play—”

“—means I can pay the bills and get to class on time,” finished Gold, and Jefferson rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh.

“Well, if nothing else, when you eventually decide to let someone in enough to have an actual relationship, the sex will be awesome!”

“Thank you for that ringing endorsement,” said Gold dryly. “I have a feeling it takes more than a bag of tricks to make a relationship work. You’re lucky you and Graham know all one another’s secrets.”

“You need someone you can be honest with from the start,” said Jefferson. “Given how we met, that was never an issue.”

“Well, that’s unlikely to happen in my case, hmm?”

He grasped the door handle, pulling it open, and two young women almost fell in from the street in a mass of dark hair and jumbled colours. He took a step back, opening his mouth to apologise, and whatever he had planned to say died on his lips as the first woman swept back her hair and looked up.

“Belle!” he breathed.

She stared at him, her eyes widening, a blush rising in her cheeks. Dear God, she was beautiful! Perfection. Small and slender and clad in a pale blue jacket and what looked like a yellow dress over wedge-heeled sandals, a blue beret pulled down over her chestnut curls. Her lips were full and red, parted in shock, and he remembered with painful clarity exactly how she tasted. In every way.

“Alistair,” she whispered.

He swallowed hard, taking a step back as he noticed Ruby Lucas behind her.

“I - Miss French!” he managed. “Miss Lucas. How - how lovely to see you. How are you both?”

“Fine,” said Ruby cheerfully. “We’re just having a girly shopping day for Belle’s birthday, hence the trip to this place.”

Two years today. It’s two years today since we—

“Right,” he said. “Uh - happy birthday, Miss French.”

Belle didn’t answer, and was blushing, teeth worrying her lower lip. She had dropped her gaze, fingers dancing along the brown leather strap of the purse over her shoulder. He pulled his eyes away.

“Fancy seeing you here, Mr Gold,” added Ruby. “With your - friend.”

“Yes, well, we were just - I was just—” he floundered.

“Regular shopping trip,” said Jefferson, holding up the bag. “We spend a fortune in this place, but it’s worth every cent.”

Ruby smirked, and turned back to Gold, gesturing up and down.

“That’s a new look for you,” she observed. “Like the suit. Love the hair.”

“Thank you,” said Gold numbly.

“You girls should check out the White Rabbit range,” said Jefferson helpfully. “Hits the spot others can’t quite reach, if you take my meaning. Alice will steer you right, just tell her I sent you.”

Belle closed her eyes with an expression suggesting she was enduring physical pain, and Gold desperately tried to steer the conversation onto a more appropriate topic.

“I - ah - I had forgotten you were both headed to Boston,” he said. “Are you enjoying college?”

“I - yes,” said Belle, still blushing. “Yes, thank you.”

“We have a place together, a couple of blocks away,” put in Ruby. “Studying hard, you’ll be pleased to know.”

“Good.” His power of speech appeared to have deserted him. “That’s - I’m very glad to hear it. Take care, both of you.”

He stepped to the right, and Belle stepped in front of him. There was an awkward moment that seemed to last an eternity, in which they sidestepped to try to get past one another, murmuring apologies as they each stepped in the same direction. Eventually he managed to escape with the help of Jefferson’s firm hand steering him by the shoulder. He left the store without seeing anything, and without looking back, dimly aware that Jefferson was following him. His heart was racing, and he took a couple of deep breaths before he was able to focus on anything. The sun was very bright, and he fumbled for his sunglasses, almost sighing with relief as he slipped them on and cut the glare.

“Friends of yours?” asked Jefferson, and Gold sighed.

“Two ex-students from my high school,” he said tersely. “I think we could have done without the vibrator recommendations, to be honest.”

“Oops,” said Jefferson, not sounding remotely contrite.

“Indeed.” Gold ran a hand over his face. “Of all the places to bump into those two…”

“Don’t worry, they didn’t hear us talking about anything they shouldn’t.”

“Right,” said Gold vaguely.

“You okay?” asked Jefferson. “Sometimes it’s weird when your two lives collide, you know?”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” said Gold quietly. “I’m fine, really.”

“Good.”

Jefferson leaned in, kissed his cheek and stepped back, the turquoise bag crackling against his leg.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he announced, waving a finger. “Seven o’clock! Don’t forget!”

“I’ll be there,” promised Gold, and Jefferson grinned and turned on his toes, sauntering off down the street with the bag swinging from his hand.

Gold watched him go with half an eye, his mind full of Belle. She lived nearby, with Ruby. How had he not seen her before? Admittedly he wasn’t in Boston much these days, and would be there even less now that he had given up escorting. He sent up heartfelt thanks that he had never seen her while working his second job. God, she was as beautiful as ever. Beautiful and just as hopelessly out of reach. He blinked hard, shaking his head.

“Penny for ‘em.”

Another familiar voice made him jump, and he turned with a smile.

“Neal,” he said warmly, reaching out to pull his son into a hug. Neal hugged him back, grinning, a small backpack looped over one shoulder.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” he asked. “Are you staying in Boston?”

“Only a couple of nights,” said Gold. “I was doing some shopping and finishing up a few business matters, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Who was that?”

“What?” Gold panicked for a moment before realising who Neal meant. “Oh that - that was Jefferson. He’s - a friend.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.” Neal looked him over. “You look great! What’s with the suit?”

“Oh.” Gold looked down at himself. “Yes. Well. I - uh - thought I’d try a different look. I’m not sure it’s really me.”

“That’s a hell of a different look,” observed Neal. “And you cut your hair!”

“I - yes.” Gold ran his fingers through the short strands. “Don’t you like it?”

“It looks great,” said Neal. “Although I kinda miss the - floof.”

“Floof?” said Gold flatly. “Whatever that is, I’m almost certain I never had any.”

“Have it your way,” said Neal, with a grin. He put a hand on Gold’s shoulder. “You look good, but I gotta say you look tired. Emma always says you work too hard.”

“Well…” Gold shrugged awkwardly. “Not been getting much sleep.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still working yourself into the ground for us,” warned Neal. “You don’t need to, I’m serious! I’m making good money now. No killing yourself with school and tutoring, okay?”

Gold smiled.

“You can tell Emma that I’m no longer working two jobs,” he said. “Which means I’ll have a little more time on my hands to spend with you.”

“Good. In that case, why don’t you come over tonight?” he asked. “Emma was gonna do steak, but I’m sure we could use ‘em to rustle up something for the three of us.”

“Oh, I - I can’t, I already have an appointment,” said Gold hastily.

Neal glanced down the street.

“Okay,” he said lightly. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow would be great,” said Gold, with a smile. “I’ll bring a bottle of something. What time?”

“Come over whenever you like, Emma’s in all day. I should get back around six.” Neal glanced at his watch. “Look, I’d better go, I only came out to grab some lunch. Couldn’t face the cafeteria mac and cheese. See you tomorrow?”

“See you then.”

Gold hugged him again before Neal hurried off down the street, and he glanced after him with a tiny smile on his face. It was going to be good to be able to spend more time with his family. It would all have been worth it to give them that good start in life, the start he had never had. Time to make the most of it, and put the past behind him.

As the time approached seven, he knocked firmly on the door of the apartment Jefferson and Graham shared. They had moved in together six months earlier, and he had been over a few times for dinner when he had been in town, but not since they had adopted a cat. Jefferson answered the door with his usual enthusiasm, taking the bottle of wine Gold held out and exclaiming over it before ushering him inside. The walls had been painted a warm coffee colour, the couch dark brown leather with a paisley throw and cushions in cream, brown and olive green. There was a savoury smell of garlic and spices coming from the kitchen, and Gold sniffed appreciatively.

“Graham’s in the kitchen,” said Jefferson. “He thinks ten minutes until dinner, so what do you say I open the wine?”

“Sounds good.” Gold looked around. “The place looks great.”

“Thanks. We nearly got into a pillow fight over the colour scheme.”

"Spare me the details," said Gold, with a grin. “So, where’s your cat?”

“Oh! Let me get her!”

Jefferson put down the bottle and hurried off, returning with a long-haired white cat with black and ginger patches on her head and back. He held her up high, as though presenting her for inspection by the cat gods.

“I invite you to humbly prostrate yourself at the feet of Her Royal Highness, Princess Petunia Puffball!” he announced. “Puff for short.”

Puff looked decidedly unimpressed at being picked up, and glowered at Gold as though it was his fault, so he elected not to pet her just yet. Jefferson kissed her head, which she endured with a look of disdain, and then put her down on the couch. Gold held out a hand, and she sniffed at his fingers cautiously before butting her head against them and beginning to purr. He scratched her ears, making her fluffy tail rise up and curl over.

“I knew she’d like you!” declared Jefferson, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on through to the kitchen. You want some of this wine?”

“Please.”

“Just give me a second.”

Gold gave Puff a final pet, and followed Jefferson through to the kitchen, where Graham was chopping tomatoes with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He smiled, setting down his knife to give Gold a quick hug.

“Have a seat,” he said. “Dinner won’t be long, I’m just making the salad.”

Gold took a chair, glancing around the kitchen. The walls were painted a warm terracotta colour, turquoise shelves housing recipe books, brightly-coloured pottery and assorted houseplants.

“You’ve redecorated in here too,” he observed. “It’s nice.”

“We thought we’d try for something warm and cosy,” said Jefferson. “It’ll be nice when this place is two feet deep in snow.”

“Yes, it reminds me that I really need to repaint the porch at home.”

Jefferson set a glass of wine in front of him, and Gold nodded his thanks, taking a sip.

“So,” said Graham, returning to his chopping. “No more Blue Star. How does it feel?”

“Not sure it’s sunk in yet,” he admitted. “I’ll have to find something to keep myself busy with in the evenings.”

“Any thoughts?”

“Nothing specific.” Gold took another drink. “The house could use some work; I’ve been neglecting it for the past few years. So there’s that.”

“Maybe you’ll meet someone,” suggested Graham, and Gold pulled a face.

“Unless Storybrooke has new residents I’m unaware of, doubtful.”

“There’s always online dating.”

“No thanks,” said Gold, pulling a face. “I imagine that ‘I just stopped working as a prostitute’ is something of a conversation killer with the average woman.”

“How you chose to earn a living is no one’s business,” Jefferson reminded him.

“I know,” sighed Gold. “But it’s something fairly momentous and I wouldn’t feel right keeping it to myself.”

“No one’s saying you have to give your life story on a first date.”

“I know,” he said again. “But I could probably do with some time to myself, anyway.”

“Well, you know you’re always welcome here,” said Graham. “If you ever need to get away from small town life, just call.”

“Thanks,” said Gold. “But I think I’m actually looking forward to getting back into small town life, if only because the neighbours will stop speculating about where it is I go in the evenings. Plus it’ll be good to get a full eight hours of sleep every night, for a change.”

“Well, we support you,” announced Jefferson, raising his glass. “And someday we’ll drive up to that small town of yours and you can take us out and show us the sights!”

“That should take all of ten minutes,” said Gold wryly. “Nothing ever changes in Storybrooke.”

“To boredom, nosy neighbours and a regular sleep schedule!”

They clinked glasses, Gold grinning as he did it.

Belle locked the apartment door, grasping her case in one hand as she shoved the keys into her purse. Finals were over, and she could feel the stress of late-night studying starting to leave her body, her muscles aching a little, heavy and tired. She was pleased to be done with study, and to be heading home for the summer, but there was an underlying nervousness there, a low-level twinge in her gut that she was trying to ignore. It had nothing to do with the stress of exams, of that she was well aware.

She followed Ruby downstairs to where the car was parked in the May sunshine, throwing her case into the trunk and sliding into the passenger seat. Ruby grinned widely, large sunglasses hiding most of her face.

“Next stop, Storybrooke!” she sang, and pulled away into the steady stream of cars heading north.

They were quiet as they drove out of the city, Ruby concentrating on the road ahead, and singing snatches of a song on the radio. Before too long, they reached I-95, and Ruby settled back in her seat, fingers tapping on the wheel as she picked up the pace. She glanced across at Belle.

“Want to hit The Rabbit Hole tonight?” she asked. “Could be fun to see who’s still around. I bet it’s just as crappy as when we left, but there might be some new blood in there.”

“I should probably spend some time with Dad,” said Belle. “I’m guessing Granny will be expecting you to spend at least the first couple of nights at home.”

Ruby grumbled, but nodded reluctantly.

“Your dad gonna give you some work?” she asked, and Belle wrinkled her nose.

“What he can,” she said. “He said the shop wasn’t too busy right now, though. You think I could get some diner shifts?”

“Already cleared it with Granny,” said Ruby, glancing in her mirror before overtaking the car ahead. “We probably won’t be working the same shifts, but at least it’s something.”

“Every little helps,” agreed Belle. “Assuming we didn’t flunk the finals, of course.”

Ruby sputtered in derision.

“Come on girl, we worked our pert little asses off for those exams,” she declared. “Think positive! No class until September! We have three months to have some fun and earn some cash before we head back there. And I intend to make the most of it!”

“Okay.” Belle grinned as she sat back. “I’m in. Positive outlook, here I come.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Storybrooke seemed smaller.

It was the first time that she had really noticed since leaving, and Belle wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not. It showed that she had grown as a person; it would be ludicrous to expect two years of college not to have had some effect on her, after all. She didn’t want to lose sight of her home, though. She didn’t want to think she could never come back.

Ruby had dropped her at her dad’s place, along with her bags, and she had spent half an hour or so putting away her things in the battered old wardrobe in her room. The house was silent; her father would not be home until around six, which was around an hour away. She decided to make a start on dinner, and hunted through the fridge to find something to throw together. Moe French was never the best at eating vegetables, but she found mushrooms, onions and garlic, and so she decided on pasta.

She was reading a book, leaning against the kitchen counter and keeping one eye on the bubbling sauce, when the sound of the front door made her glance up. Moe beamed when she saw her through the open kitchen door, and she set down the book and ran to hug him.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow!” he complained, almost squeezing the breath from her.

“I told you it was today,” she chided. “More than once!”

“My brain’s turned to shit,” he grumbled. “How’d the exams go?”

“Ruby tells me we smashed it, so I’m following her lead,” said Belle, in a dry tone. “They were fine, I think. How are you?”

“Oh, okay love, okay. Shop’s - well, we’re getting by. The Nolans had another kid, so that meant a lot of orders. And Ashley Boyd got married, so that was a good week. Getting by, getting by.”

“Doesn’t sound as though you have much need of an extra pair of hands,” she observed, and he shook his head.

“A couple of hours a day, to make deliveries and help out with the flower orders, that’s it,” he said. “Sorry, love.”

“It’s cool, Granny gave me some hours at the diner.” Belle turned to the sauce, snatching up a spoon and stirring it. “You hungry?”

“I could eat a dead bear, I’m bloody starving.”

“Go wash up then, I’ll cook the pasta.”

They ate in comfortable silence, Moe praising the creamy mushroom sauce, and Belle watched in some amusement as he cleared his plate and looked hopefully around for more.

“That’s it,” she said, taking his plate and stacking it atop her own. “You want anything else?”

“Better not.” He patted his belly. “That was great, love.”

“What do you want to do tonight?” she asked, and he looked uneasy.

“Uh - you know I said I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow?”

“Don’t tell me,” said Belle. “Poker night.”

“I can cancel,” said Moe hastily, but she shook her head.

“Don’t bother. You go and have a good time. I can keep myself amused for one night.”

“You sure?”

Belle smiled.

“Absolutely.”

Gold finished cleaning up the kitchen, a glass of wine on the table behind him as he wiped down the counters. He rinsed the dishcloth, humming along to the music coming from the lounge. A soft, Baroque piece, soothing strings and harpsichord. Wiping his hands on the dish towel, he turned back for his wine, taking a sip as he wandered through to the lounge. It was strange not to have to plan for two or three nights out, and he was already enjoying the extra sleep. Though losing the extra money was less welcome. Worth it, he decided. Worth it to start getting your bloody self-respect back.

The first few days back in Storybrooke had left him feeling a little out of sorts, restless and jittery due to the extra time on his hands, pacing the kitchen over and over with a glass of wine in one hand as he tried to burn off excess energy. After the first weekend where he had felt as though he was going quietly mad, he had embarked on a thorough clean of the house, taking the opportunity to go through old paperwork and burn it, cleaning out the attic, and scrubbing the kitchen until it shone. He had planned to work on the garden next, although that needed little attention, as Anton came to tend it once a week. Perhaps a couple of days out at the cabin instead, reading and relaxing. At least he still had class to prepare for, so he wasn’t entirely without purpose, but he would need a serious distraction to get through the long summer break.

A hurried knock at the door made him frown, and for a moment he stood still, eerie fingertips caressing the nape of his neck and sending shivers down his spine. Goosebumps rippled over his skin, spreading down from his shoulders, and he told himself to get a bloody grip, surprised at his own nervousness. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and he wasn’t sure why an unexpected knock would make him anxious. Perhaps one of the neighbours needed help with something. Setting down his glass, he went to the door, the vague side outline of a diminutive figure visible through the rippled glass panels. Gold licked his lips, his breath held tight, a ball of iron in his chest. His heart was thudding, his pulse throbbing in his ears, and he reached out with a shaking hand, skin tingling as his fingers closed around the cool brass handle.

The evening sun was setting, the sky a pale lilac fading into peach tones at the horizon, thin knotted ropes of grey cloud outlined in coral. Belle stood on his porch, bouncing on her toes, chest heaving a little as though she had been running, dark curls glinting with reddish highlights from the sunset. Her pale skin was tinged apricot, warm and inviting, and she inhaled sharply, raising her chin.

“Hey,” she said abruptly.

He could feel emotion stir deep within him, a rising tide threatening to engulf him and sweep him away. Her eyes were shining, fixed on his, soft lips open and moist, and it was as though they had parted only yesterday. He smiled.

“Hey.”

#fic: neverland #escort!gold verse #rumbelle fic #my fic

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