#hi ! i hope this is alright?? i intended to make it for henry! (but it ended up vague enough to be anyone else if you want that too SDGHSD)

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 8

Masterlist Link

Part 8

Loki's heart felt lead-heavy as he finally forced himself to release you from his embrace. Finally, he sadly accepted that he'd missed his opportunity to kiss you. In return, you gave him a bittersweet smile, baffled that he didn't make his move when it seemed inevitable that he would.

Maybe he intends to just abandon me at some point, like everyone else does. Eventually, I'm always going to be alone. But, for now, there's something beautiful to experience, so I won't take it for granted. I'll hold onto the good parts when the worst happens, I'll treasure them. That's all I can do.

You felt like crying as the two of you continued strolling down the main promenade of the carnival; two heads bowed, two sets of hands buried in pockets, two sets of eyes glittering faintly with unshed tears and unspoken words in the carnival lights. The sun had set in a beautiful amber and rose vista while you had rested against his chest. You watched, considering the poignant fleeting nature of all beautiful things as the sun sank below the hills. A velvety indigo night had descended by the time he finally unraveled from the hug. You had never felt colder than you did in that blanket of darkness and the absence of his touch.

After a few steps, you took a chance that you knew might result in a broken heart and a shattering rejection from this man. You decided to be brave anyway. Reaching, you touched his arm lightly, hesitantly. Henry's bright irises met yours, understanding what you sought. He smiled a tight-lipped affectionate smile that creased the corners of his eyes, and you could swear his face shone brighter than every bulb around you. Loki's heart leaped back up from where it had tumbled to the floor as he rushed to entwine his fingers with yours while strolling; quietly, pensively, each of you floundering in your own ruminations until finally, you asked, “Henry?”

“Yes, darling?” he rushed out, anxious to finally exchange words again.

You faced him, and placed a hand on his sharp cheek, “Would...would you like to come over? We could talk a little while.”

“Yes! Yes, of course. I'd love to. If you don't mind....yes,” he blabbered, and you couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

Loki fizzled with joy because you wanted more time with him, because perhaps he hadn't ruined things, because perhaps he would have a chance to be closer still, because...

Damn. Loki suddenly thought, realizing that if he was there, her beloved little black cat wouldn't be, and he would have to find some way around that. What were you thinking?, he scolded himself. He knew the answer was that, of course, for once, he wasn't thinking. He wasn't scheming. He wasn't anticipating his next lie or ploy. He was in love and it was making him reckless. Loki was desperate to be near you in this form just a little longer. He would wring every minute, steal every second, if he could just have more of his borrowed time with you.

-----

As you unlocked the door and ushered him inside, you said, “Welcome to my palace. I'm sorry it's not much. I know it's probably not the kind of thing your used to.”

“Hmm. You'd be surprised,” he said, cryptically, then added under his breath, “I like the new curtains.”

You gave him a puzzled look. You'd just changed those curtains yesterday. He continued, realizing his mistake and rushing to deflect, “Well, I've been all over the world...lots of places. And I think it's very sweet and cozy here. I love it.”

You smiled, thawing under his glow. “Oh! I forgot to ask. Are you alright with cats? I hope you're not allergic.”

“Oh...no, no problem at all. Not at all...but just...” he began to mutter in a panic.

“I just have to feed him and then we can have some coffee, yeah? Loki!” you called as you hung up your coat. “Loki?” you repeated with a bit more worry in your voice. He had always greeted you immediately before. You considered that maybe he had just scurried away into hiding because of the presence of an unfamiliar person.

“Sorry, Henry. Just a moment. Please, make yourself at home,” you said as you continued your search around the tiny apartment.

Henry called after you a moment too late as you were already peeking behind every piece of furniture in the tiny flat. He sighed, exasperated and afraid. It would only take you a few moments to look everywhere and realize inevitably that...

“He's not here,” you said quietly, eyebrows peaked in confusion and concern as you returned to Henry.

Loki tried to think quickly. “Hey...hey! Darling. Look at me. It's alright. I'll...I'll help you look.”

“I...I looked everywhere. I...” you trailed off as you noticed the ratty green collar, abandoned on the counter and a nameless foreboding crept up your spine. “No. No, something is wrong. I need to...”

Henry held you firmly by the shoulders and looked into your eyes, saying your name slowly, then, “I know this sounds insane, but that sweet little black cat is fine. I know that he's fine. I promise.”

Your look of dismay turned to one of sinking suspicion. Suddenly you saw the odd, charming man before you in a new light of doubt. How did he know Loki was a black cat?

You went through all of it in your mind, from the beginning. He swept you off your feet at work after apparently “noticing” you (unbeknownst to you) for some time, only communicated through messages and gifts but never called. He knew what to order for your lunch without asking. You were reminded, with a sinking feeling in your stomach, of his sly expression as he knowingly quipped about his “intuition”. He found out where you lived, knew your curtains were new, knew what your cat looked like. Now...now you had invited him into your apartment.

Idiot, you scolded yourself. He's some kind of stalker lunatic. You were too smitten to see it.

You spoke more loudly, “And how the hell do you know that, Henry? ...if that's even your real name,” you said, walking backwards toward the kitchen and drawing a large knife out of the holder.

Loki said your name gently, eyes going wide, and put his hands up in surrender, “What on earth is this? What's going...”

You stared him down, glaring over the glinting line of the knife. “I...I was so bind...an unbelievably dashing and mysterious foreign man noticing me at work, giving me fancy letters and gifts...never even telling me your last name...sweet-talking Janet into giving you my address. Did you take Loki because you're some kind of obsessive weirdo? Have you been in my apartment? What...what are you...some kind of con artist or...or just a pervert? Well, I obviously don't have much to steal, so why are you doing this? Should I check my underwear drawer for a few missing panties, or what? Just....what the fuck is this?”

The volume of your voice climbed as your words grew more frantic and shrill.

Loki sighed and gathered his thoughts, speaking deliberately as he moved closer, “Please, just listen. You can't hurt me with that. You're more likely to hurt yourself, so please, put it down.”

In a panic, you lunged forward with the knife. In a glow of green light you passed right through Henry and tumbled to the floor, as the blade clattered over the tiles. You winced, feeling a bruise begin to form, then your mouth dropped in shock as you watched Henry evaporate in a glowing green slither of light.

You began to scream, but a cold pale hand covered you mouth to silence you. The man beside you was the man in your dream; coal black hair, alabaster skin, and Henry's face in a different color palette. Your mind went utterly blank aside from a single frenetic thought on loop. I'm dreaming. This isn't real.

Loki felt horrible about causing you pain. He could feel your hot stilted breath pummeling his palm. You trembled like a small terrified animal under his hand. He thought of how you must have bruises blossoming somewhere on your precious skin from your fall.

“As much as I hate to see you in distress, I'm afraid I have to do this,” he said, eyes wide and apologetic, brow creased in concern. He raised his hands summoning a green glow that wrapped around your arms and mouth, stilling and silencing you, then compelled you to sit on the couch. Once you were sitting, he knelt before you in his armor, green cape flaring like a curtain over the floor. In another situation you might have laughed at how much it looked like some Arthurian prince about to rescue a maiden in your shabby apartment.

“Please. Please, listen,” he said very softly. “What I'm going to tell you is going to be hard to believe. You saw me, in your dream, but I'm real. I am Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, and I am Henry, and I am...well...I'm also Loki, your cat. Now...if I remove the binding from your mouth, do you promise not to scream?”

You forced your mind to at least try to wrap around this. You had just seen the impossible and you had to admit that you'd be no match for this...person?...Magician?...God?. And as usual, you had to find out what all this meant. Your curiosity trumped your fear. Finally, you nodded.

He smiled and released the binding over your mouth. You took in a heaving breath and blinked a few times, still not entirely sure of what you were witnessing. He averted his gaze and said, “I'm so sorry to hurt you, or confuse you...”

“Or lie to me? Or terrify me?”

He sighed. “Yes, especially that.” He was silent for a moment, tongue poking between his lips in thought. You were surprised by that. It was a cute gesture, reminding you of...of your cat.

“Jesus...this...this is all so weird. I can't...”

“I know,” he said, soothing, “But I also know you're very good and you're very clever and you're very brave. I've seen it within your mind. I've seen it in your actions.”

“You can read my mind? Fuck...that's unsettling.”

“It's...not quite like that. Just...we have a special connection. I don't even entirely understand it. I wasn't anticipating it. We can see into each other a bit more than other people can. Listen, if I touch you. I can show you everything. Can I do that? Please.”

You considered carefully. He was asking, genuinely asking. A psycho killer probably wouldn't ask, right? Fuck...whatever, at this point. I can't go this far without knowing.

“Okay,” you said.

With your permission, Loki slid his hands very gently over your hair until he was cradling your head in his elegant hands. Slowly, he placed his forehead against yours and a green glow spun into a nebula around you.

Time became strange. Your consciousness tumbled through his experiences as he poured his knowledge into your mind. You saw his life in Asgard, his family and friends (if you could really call them that). You saw why he related so much to you in some of the saddest ways. Tumbling further, you saw in more detail; the bet with Thor, the hijinks as D.B. Cooper and every moment and thought and image from his perspective since he landed in that dumpster.

It was an odd thing, a completely foreign experience, to see yourself through Loki's eyes as his perceptions changed. At the start, as a liar, a narcissistic schemer and fugitive, he saw you as nothing but a tool, a servant, and a diversion. It was even stranger once you began to see yourself through the lens of his reluctant but unstoppable feelings of affection, then friendship, then through the floral illuminated frame of utter selfless love. He loved you. This ancient god, a strange and powerful and feared being, loved you. The god of mischief saw you as a goddess; one whom he hoped would choose to be by his side for all time. You saw yourself, in many iterations, through the frame of his eyes, and what he saw was absolute worthiness (a feeling you had never really felt for yourself).

Then the green fog cleared and you heard the echo of his beautiful deep voice calling you back to the present. As you slowly opened your eyes, he leaned back and unraveled the bindings from the rest of your body. You both sat quietly for a moment; you on the couch, and Loki still kneeling beside you. After a moment you chuckled and said with a wry smile, “That was brave of you to do. How do you know I won't still come after you with a kitchen knife?”

He chuckled in relief. “I'll take my chances. And I'm not nearly as brave as you've been, darling.”

“So...now I know everything,” you said softly reaching for his hand. He looked surprised by that, uncertain if he deserved to hold your hand, and it made your heart ache.

“You do, and yet...my kind, brave girl...you still reach for my hand?” he said gazing up, those bright aquamarine eyes wide and solicitous.

You squeezed where your palms pressed together. You nodded and smiled as tears made their way down your face, making it hard to talk with the tightness in your throat. You said, shakily, “But you've only seen into some of my mind...my history. What if you don't like the rest? All the pain, and insecurity, and bad days, and mistakes, and disappointments, and failures and...unworthiness...”

Loki inturruped your downward spiral with a finger against your lips. “Shh shh shh. You are worthy, that doesn't mean perfect. No one is.”

“But you can't know how much worse I might really be. I think I'm a pretty good person...I try to be, but what if I'm not...what if I'm not who you need me to be?”

Loki came up to join you on the couch now, sitting closely and wiping the tears from your eyes. He said your name, reverently, like a prayer. “Who you are is someone who has worked very very hard...someone who's survived so many bad times and bad days and abandonment and a childhood of being dragged to church and shamed. You're someone who set out alone across the country to build a life...someone who loves horror movies because you always try to push yourself towards the things that scare you. You're someone who summons the strength, every day, to face the world as it is and to find beauty in it, because you're so brave and so kind. You're someone who loves to drink coffee in the afternoon, but falls asleep on the couch after awhile anyway. Someone who has read hundreds of books.

Your favorite color is purple, and your favorite band is The Velvet Underground. You're always cold, and you've worn that damned gray sweater for 10 years to try to stay warm but it's never enough. You like tomato soup and grilled cheese on rainy days. You hate those high heels and kick them off in the same spot every single day. You're someone unbelievably generous...generous enough to take in a moody selfish little homicidal creature mewling from a rubbish heap. Who else would do that?”

You chuckled through a sob, answering, “A lot of people, Loki. That's just called owning a cat.”

He laughed with you at that, then stroked a hand through your hair, tilting your chin so you could meet his eyes. “And you're very funny” he added to his long list. “Please, believe me when I tell you this. No one like you has ever been, or ever will be again. You are entirely unique. And in all of the cosmos and the myriad realms, I had the good fortune to find you and now....” he said, moving closer still until his sharp cheek grazed your own soft one, “I don't ever want to let you go.”

Loki kissed you, breathy and hesitant at first as his lips skated across your own. Then your sighs mingled and your mouths opened to invite each other in...to invite each other home...finally home. You lost all sense of time as his arm encircled your waist and your hands wove into his soft inky hair. You never wanted to stop. The two of your were lost in the world of your own senses; a universe of breath, and warmth, and the soft feeling and smell of each others skin (a mingling of mint and lavender), the sound of pattering night rain outside the balcony doors.

You both jumped as the rain turned suddenly into a thunderstorm, interrupting your rapturous moment. The brightest lightning and the loudest thunder you had ever experienced, rioted outside as your balcony doors swung open. You yelped as the largest man you had ever seen in your life materialized in your living room. Loki jumped up and gathered you tightly, protectively, against his own body. The enormous viking man bellowed out, “Brother! I knew you would show yourself once again and we would find you. You can't run forever, you conniving little snake!”

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[weirdowithaquill]

What are Sir Topham Hatt’s (and the engines) opinion on how privatization was handled? When I read about it, I always think how absurd it was to keep the track nationalized, but let other companies run the goods trains, then different run the passenger trains. It is a spaghetti mess. Sodor had the right idea to yoink the old Furness mainline.

Thank you for your ask! (and I'm really sorry for the long wait). This is actually going to be really fun to potentially answer, so let's see...

Officially, the NWR regards privatisation as: "an important milestone in Britain's railway history and the beginning of cooperation between the NWR and our partner railways throughout Great Britain." It's a very prim and proper way of saying "the only thing that changed was the name of the idiot company that keeps delaying our trains." In private however, reactions were very, very different.

For a few engines, it meant very little: Thomas in particular barely cared at all. "What'll change? Not my branchline, that's for sure!" he once snapped at Duck when the Western engine tried to goad him into ranting with him about privatisation. Duncan said something very similar to a visiting diesel, only his version was far too inappropriate to be put in writing. Ever.

In stark contrast, a lot of the engines had very loud opinions about the entire thing. Duck spent most of one night trying to tell anyone who would listen that it was "disgraceful, disgusting and despicable" that the GWR hadn't been reformed after privatisation. (Henry, James and Gordon had to be physically restrained by BoCo and Bear before they tore Duck a new funnel for stealing their catchphrases). Donald and Douglas both tried to convince the Fat Controller to send them to London to 'politely make a case for a fully independent Scottish network'... multiple times. They also managed to say such inappropriate things that Oliver had to double-head all of Douglas' trains for a month to act as a censor for his language!

Gordon decided to offer the press his own solution to the privatisation issue, which went something like this: "What we need, is four companies to look after trains in different parts of the country - like we used to." "Like the Big 4?" "Indeed!" "We can't do that, such a system is considered to be a monopoly, and the government won't allow it." "Alright then, how about this: we have one railway that runs in the North and the East... and down to London perhaps. Then we can also have one railway that runs in the Midlands, and in Scotland... and also down to London perhaps, so you have your competition. Then we could have a railway that is in the West, and one in the South-" "Like the Big 4?" "No! These companies would be completely different!" "Look, Gordon, the government has made it very clear that the Big 4 will not return." "Well then FUCK JOHN MAJOR AND ALL THE TORY PARTY! [...] There would be competition anyway, with the roads, don't those blithering idiots understand?! [...] If any of them took a train for once, they'd realise just how bloody stupid the whole thing is, the bunch of------" (About twenty minutes worth of ranting has been omitted, due to various constraints...)

It was no surprise to anyone that Gordon personally campaigned for the Labour Party in 1997.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, Sir Stephen Hatt and his sister Bridget were frantically pouring over the old charters of the NWR, hoping to be able to keep the new companies off Sodor - and indeed they found they could, as a 1925 Government deal originally intended to keep the NWR independent of the LMS also (entirely by accident) meant that no private, standard-gauge railway company other than the NWR could operate on the Isle of Sodor. Sir Stephen happily shoved that document in parliament's face when they tried to privatise the NWR's various assets, and then got his deal for the Furness Line from a different parliament committee before anyone could cross-reference him. By the time anyone managed to question why exactly they were selling an entirely railway line to a man who had very loudly told them to 'shove off and leave my railway alone', Sir Stephen had already taken control.

Their opinion: "Why treat a railway like its an airline? Honestly, it'll just wind up causing more problems in the end. A railway is a public good - yes, it makes us a lot of money, but we still run it for the people of Sodor, not for - no, we don't know why they divided British Rail like that, it makes no sense to us either - please stop asking more questions before we can finish our thoughts."

Also, a small rather large side note - Britain's railway privatisation is a complex and very unique affair that really showcases how exactly not to privatise a railway network. For example: for around seven years, the railway infrastructure was owned by a private company called RailTrack... which was terrible at doing its job and caused a number of major railway accidents (See Hatfield, 2000; Southall, 1997; Ladbroke Grove, 1999) and then panicked after the Hatfield crash and basically shut the network down, leading to questions over its competence and the finally its re-nationalisation because - surprise surprise - a private company trying to produce profits really shouldn't be in charge of the safety of millions of people with almost no proper accountability. Worse yet, the monopolies that the Tories wanted to avoid by breaking up the system happened anyway - see EWS, which bought up almost all the freight franchises and created a monopoly, only to be bought by Deutsche Bahn, which created an even bigger monopoly as it also owned (at the time) Arriva (they sold Arriva in 2024). To worsen the spaghetti, the system was divided into three basic sections: the infrastructure (RailTrack), Train Operating Companies (who owned the trains) and Franchises (who ran the trains and hired staff). In other words: a ticket in the UK is so expensive because you are paying for: the train crew, renting the train, renting the track, renting the platforms and producing profits for shareholders.

Oh, and suddenly freight and passenger trains owned by different companies are all competing to have priority at every. single. signalbox. in the country.

Now, I am not an expert in fixing extremely broken railway systems, but even still, I feel like I could probably do better than this mess!

Thank you for reading!

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

cloak and dagger. ( alexander x reader )

gif belongs to me

It was a warm summer night when he first saw you. The Pflichttreue was driving to Portland after being summoned by De Groot. Nearing the outskirts, he saw you walking along the road, carrying a suitcase, and he slowed down, pressing the button to lower the window. He leaned over the console, ducking his head as he called out to you.

"Are you alright?"

You leaned on the window with a sheepish smile, "My car broke down. I was trying to find my way to a B&B in Portland."

"I'm heading that way. I can take you there."

"Would you? That would be amazing."

Alexander nodded and got out of the car, walking around to help you with your suitcase. He glanced around as he carried it to the trunk, wondering where your car was. You thanked him as he placed it in his trunk.

"No problem." He sent you a small smile, "This is the last place a woman should be walking alone." He walked to the passenger door, holding it open, and you missed the way his eyes scanned his surroundings, sensing he had found you just in time. 

He had been brought to Portland after there were several killings on the outskirts of the city. He closed the door once you were safely inside, and you watched as he walked around the front of the car, seeing his tailored suit in the headlights and a glimpse of his sharp features. He took a discreet inhale and knew you weren't a Wesen. You were a human, or as Wesen called a Kehrseite.

"Thanks again." You spoke up as he started to drive off. "I'm Y/N."

"Alexander."

"You're from England?"

He glanced at you with a smile, "Is it that noticeable?"

"Yes, but probably as noticeable as my accent is to you. Although you give less Hugh Grant and more Henry Cavill."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"As you should."

Alexander glanced at you when you turned your head to look out of the window. "What brings you to Portland?"

"Family." You turned to meet his gaze, "I've been travelling for a while and decided to come home. I booked the B&B because I knew I would arrive at an ungodly hour." Alexander nodded, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove. "What about you?" Seeing the faint lift of his eyebrow, you elaborated, "What brings you to Portland?"

"Business." He sent you a trained smile, "It always does."

"I figure you're either an accountant or a secret agent sent to uncover trade secrets."

Alexander knew you weren't a Wesen and therefore knew nothing about the Council. So, to throw you off completely, he said, "The company that I work for has important assets in the US. I was sent to review them."

You nodded, "I was kind of hoping you would be a secret agent."

Alexander turned his head to look at you, feeling his lips curving upwards on their own accord, "If I was a secret agent, I could hardly admit it, could I?"

You mirrored his smile, "That's right. So maybe you're just trying to throw me off by admitting you're an accountant."

"No, I'm afraid my life is not that exciting. Speaking of excitement, where have you traveled to?"

He was subtly changing the subject, and his grip around the steering wheel relaxed when you indulged him. You would settle down for a few months, earn some money, and then move on to the next circle on your map.

A short while later, Alexander pulled up outside a hotel and asked how long you intended to stay in Portland.

You smiled softly, "This is the last stop. My family needs me, and who knows? We might bump into each other again. I may be the woman who makes your tea."

Alexander chuckled as you both got out of the car, resting a hand on the roof as he looked over at you. The streetlamp gave him a better view of your beauty, and the sight almost sent him staggering back.

"Then I shall endeavor to be in your good graces."

"You're already off to a great start." You closed the car door, following him to the trunk. Alexander looked at the suitcase that had lost its wheels and insisted on carrying it inside.

You greeted the receptionist with a smile, and she checked your name on the computer before giving you the key. You turned to Alexander, who looked overdressed in the six-bedroom B&B that resembled a grandmother's house.

"Thank you for, well, everything tonight." You sent him a bashful smile. "When I get a job, the tea is on me."

Alexander knew the odds of running into you again were slim as he rarely walked the streets of Portland unless stalking after a rogue Wesen.

Still, he chuckled at the offer, and said, "I might take you up on that." He glanced at your suitcase, brows furrowing, "Do you need a hand with that?"

"I have it, sir." A twenty-something walked down the stairs and you thanked him when he took your suitcase.

Alexander slowly nodded, finding he was oddly reluctant to part ways so soon. "Well then...goodnight."

"Night, Mr. Not-A-Secret-Agent-But-Totally-Looks-Like-One." You looked over your shoulder as you followed the twenty-something to your room for the night, sending Alexander a smile.

Alexander watched as you disappeared upstairs before shaking his head, looking at his watch as he walked out of the B&B. De Groot would be wondering where he was by now. He gracefully entered his car and drove off, leaving the B&B behind but thoughts of you, and the scent of your perfume lingered for weeks.

As the second week passed, Alexander was growing more certain that your paths would never cross again and found that while it was probably for the best, being someone who fought to keep Wesen hidden from Kehrseites, he still thought of you more than twice a day. What had you been up to since you last saw each other? How was your family? Did you find a job in a coffee shop?

On the third week, he finally got the answers to the questions nagging in his brain. In Rosalee's Spice Shop of all places. The Fuchsbau kept the store open later than usual and while Alexander was speaking to Nick and Monroe in the back room, he heard the bell above the door ring and Rosalee left to speak to the person who entered. His brow furrowed slightly when he swore he heard your voice and when he walked out after completing his business with the Grimm for the day, he found that you were gone but the scent of your perfume was all the proof he needed that you had been there.

After leaving the Spice Shop, Alexander walked to his car and looked around as he unlocked it. Being an agent for the Council he learned to always be aware of his surroundings. There were many Wesen who disagreed with the Council and it only took one slip up to be caught off guard. He tilted his head when he heard muttered curses and locked his car, following the sound of hands hitting a steering wheel, to find you sitting in the driver seat of your car, head against the headrest with your eyes closed.

His lips quirked upward as he knocked on the window and you gasped, turning your head, sighing in relief when you saw him. Alexander didn't dare acknowledge the way his heart pounded when you smiled at him. You got out of the car and closed the door.

"Car troubles?"

"It's cursed."

Alexander shook his head with a smile, "Come on, I'll drive you home."

"My hero." You sighed dramatically. "Are you sure you don't have anywhere to be? I don't want to hold you up."

"Nothing important." It was a lie, of course. De Groot expected him to report to the Council as soon as he left the Spice Shop, but Alexander hadn't called in yet, and until he did, his presence wouldn't be missed.

You took out a box of herbal teas Rosalee had given you to try and help you sleep better, locking your car. Alexander took the box and you shook your head as you fell into step beside him. "You know, we're one more save away from making this a habit."

"I prefer to call it a happy coincidence."

"I can carry things, you know. And I'm not always so helpless."

"I'm becoming rather fond of helping you." He admitted and you looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a smile that he returned. "How is your family?"

And so, as he drove you home, the Pflichttreue asked all the questions that had been bugging him for weeks. You were working at a restaurant and when you weren't working, you helped your family, and when you weren't helping family you were trying to catch up on sleep but could never get enough hours to feel properly rested.

"I knew the house was old, but I had the plumbing checked before I bought it."

Alexander apologized when his phone rang and he took it out of his pocket, seeing De Groot's number. It seemed he had waited long enough. He debated on answering it, and when it stopped ringing, he knew he would have some explaining to do later, but for now, he placed it under the radio.

"Work?" You asked, seeing the slight tightening of his jaw. Alexander nodded. "I can walk from here if you have somewhere to be."

Alexander shook his head.

"Okay..." You weren't complaining. The more time you could have together, you would gladly accept and you would enjoy every second. The mysterious Alexander hadn't left your thoughts since the night he had driven you to the B&B. "How is work as an accountant going?"

Alexander glanced at you, hearing the emphasis you used, his grip on the wheel loosening as his lips lifted slightly. "It's fine. Boring."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "I have another theory."

"You are awfully interested in what I do for a living."

"I'm thinking..." Alexander chuckled when you tapped your cheek thoughtfully. "less secret agent, more Batman."

"Batman?"

"You know, the comic book vigilante?"

Alexander shook his head. "I assure you my work is extremely boring."

You doubted it, only growing more curious about Alexander the more he claimed the life he led was dull. "I can't imagine anything about you being boring."

He turned his head to look at you, finding you were looking out the window at the lights passing by. A short while later he parked outside your house and eyed the neighborhood warily. "This is where you live?"

"Yeah," You noticed his tone of disbelief and turned to him as you got out of the car. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing." He replied quickly and you shook your head as you closed the door.

Alexander got out of the car and glanced around, sensing there was more lurking in this neighborhood than Kehrseite criminals. A discreet inhale was all the proof he needed to know you lived among several Wesen. Including a family of Luisant-Pêcheur, an otter-like Wesen, and a Coyoti, a coyote-like Wesen. But most troubling was the scent of a Lausenschlange, a snake-like Wesen. He had dealt with more than a handful of Lausenschlange's over the years and all of them were hostile.

You playfully sighed when he took the box of herbal tea from your arms and headed to the porch, unlocking the door.

"Why do you have so much tea?" He asked, following you to the kitchen and placing the box on the countertop.

"The shopkeeper Rosalee is so sweet. She came to the restaurant and said she had some tea that she believed could help me get a good night's sleep." You explained, leaning on the countertop. "Want one for the road?"

Alexander considered it, but he knew he was already too close as it was. He believed humans, Kehrseites, couldn't handle the truth about the Wesen world, but when he looked at you, the smile on your lips warmer than the desert, he wanted to believe it was possible. That maybe, just maybe, humans and Wesen could co-exist despite his job being to cover up any Wesen-related crimes and kill rogue Wesen who threatened their peaceful existence.

"How are you going to make it?"

Your smile became teasing, "Microwave." Alexander took a step back and you giggled, halting his steps, the sound catching him by surprise. You were a beautiful, bewitching woman and your laugh was like a melody to his ears. "Kettle." You shrugged, "I spent two months in England. I tried to microwave when I came back to the States, but I felt like I was committing a felony."

Alexander chuckled, nodding. "I can stay for tea."

You sent him a smile before turning to fill the kettle with water. "And work?"

"Nothing that can't wait a few more minutes."

You moved to the living room with your teacups and Alexander looked at the cup, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. "I feel fancy drinking tea."

He shook his head with a smile.

That evening, calls went to voicemail, as the Pflichttreue lingered longer, and you learned more about his family in England although Alexander kept out one or two Wesen-like details. You tucked your legs beneath you as you spoke about your family and Alexander knew it was an easy decision to move back to the States. When your family needed you, you would drop everything to help, just as they would do for you.

He rested his arm on the back of the sofa, reaching out to brush your hair away from your shoulder, so it cascaded down your back, no longer blocking his view of your features that he considered perfect. Due to his work with the Wesen Council, Alexander believed he should have been more startled by the thoughts running through his mind, but he couldn't deny that falling in love with you would be an easy thing to do.

Did being a Kehrseite have to complicate things?

For days he pondered this at great length. His standing with the Council could be questioned, but not if he kept it quiet. Dating a Kehrseite would only become a problem if you found out about the Wesen world and his Pflichttreue heritage.

You had arrived home from work one night when a plumber knocked on your door. You were confused when he argued that he had gotten a call about your house and you realized it had to be Alexander who made the call. You shook your head, stepping aside to let the plumber inside.

You were pleasantly surprised when Alexander entered the restaurant as you looked in the book for a couple's reservation and after finding a waiter to take them to their table, you sent him a smile when he approached the podium.

"Hi! I thought you were flying back this morning."

"I decided to extend my stay for a few days." He replied with a small smile. "I want to take you out for dinner if you would do me the honor?"

You nodded, "I'd love to."

"Tomorrow night? I'll pick you up at eight?"

You agreed and Alexander smiled before turning around to leave. "It's my treat."

He turned, eyebrows furrowing, "What?"

"For the plumber you sent to my house and paid for."

Before he could catch it, a smirk formed on his lips then his features feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

You shook your head when he walked out before greeting another couple, checking their reservation before leading them to their table. You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about your date tomorrow night and when you returned to the podium, you felt your blushing cheeks, fanning yourself with the reservation book.

The next night, Alexander arrived precisely at eight o'clock and when you answered the door in a dress and heels, he was at a loss for words. You glanced at your dress then at the Pflichttreue who cleared his throat, blinking as he snapped out of his daze.

"I can change?"

"What? No! No! You look...incredible.",

You smiled softly, feeling a blush form on your cheeks at his breathy response and knew the dress you had chosen had its desired effect. "Well, you look...like you always do."

Alexander chuckled, "Is that a good thing?"

"A very good thing."

He smiled as you stepped outside, locking the door, and offered you his arm. You looped your left arm with his right arm as you walked down the driveway to his car. Alexander opened the door, turning to you as he held it open, unable to tear his eyes away. As he closed the door once you were inside, you buckled your seatbelt with a smile, pleased that he appeared as affected by you as you were by him for once.

While dinner began with small smiles, by the end of the night you graduated to holding hands across the table as you talked and Alexander adored how easy it was to be with you, how easy it was to talk to you, and loved seeing your features lit up as you laughed. You stayed an hour after dinner, sharing a glass of wine as you dived deeper into each other's pasts. As you left the restaurant, he took off his jacket, standing behind you as he placed it over your shoulders. You held your breath as he freed your hair from beneath the collar, smiling as you turned to him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Your eyelashes fluttered when he placed a hand on your cheek and you closed your eyes when his lips brushed yours. Your hands rose to the curve of his neck as he kissed you, holding back a pleasant groan as he placed a hand on your back, bringing you closer. You pulled away moments later, glancing up from his tie to meet his gaze, biting your lower lip.

You knew you only had two more days left before he left the States, and wished you could spend every second with him, not knowing when he would return.

You looped your arm with his and rested your right hand on his arm while you approached your house. 

"Thank you for tonight. I had a wonderful time."

"I did too. I am staying in Portland for two more days before I have to return to England but I would like to see you before I leave." Alexander placed a hand over your hand with a smile.

"I'm having dinner with my parents tomorrow night. But we can have lunch together?"

Alexander nodded, placing a hand on your cheek as you turned to him while standing on the top step, almost matching his height with your heels and the added height of the step. You closed your eyes when he kissed you with a passion you had never experienced before, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moved his hands to your waist, bringing you closer as he deepened the kiss. You pulled away a few moments later, biting your lip as you caught your breath.

"Do you want to come inside?"

Alexander knew he should've walked away before things became more complicated, but if being around you had taught him anything it was he was a weak man when it came to you. He nodded slowly, and for every step you took backward, he took forward, and you unlocked the door turning as you stepped into the house, wrapping your arms around his neck when he brought you into his embrace, reigniting your kiss as he kicked the door closed.

Since that night Alexander spent more time in Portland, keeping his visits quiet, hiding himself from the Wesen Council to avoid anyone finding out that he was dating a Kehrseite. When he did visit Portland for Council business he always snuck away for a few hours to be with you. You never questioned what he did for a living, but you always asked how his day went after he returned from an errand for the Council. As time passed, the lies he spun to prevent you from finding out the truth twisted his gut as his guilt grew, but he knew keeping the two worlds apart was keeping you safe. Safe from the knowledge that you were sleeping with a killer, an agent, a hitman, for a Council of people who believed that humans and Wesen could not coexist peacefully and his job was to keep the truth hidden from humans whenever a Wesen went rogue.

You looked at him as if he was the most caring man you had ever met, which he was when he was around you. But when he was sent on a job for the Council he had to bury that person down to complete his work. For two years Alexander succeeded in maintaining his ruse, and when you traveled to England to meet his family, they loved him enough not to question his methods and greeted you warmly. Your wedding was a family affair. Alexander was a private person, more so when it came to you. Your wedding was both of your families watching you walk down the aisle and Alexander trying not to cry at your beauty and holding back the urge to confess everything then and there.

His fears about telling you the truth weren't about your reaction. It was the Wesen community who some members believed he and the Council were the enemy. The Council wouldn't understand, for he had sworn to protect the Wesen way of life by covering up its existence, and Alexander did not know what they would do. He knew you would be hurt that he had kept such a large part of himself hidden from you, but the Pflichttreue believed it was the only way to protect you - both from the disappointment and the attacks that would follow when Wesen found out you were married to one of the top agents for the Council. But he knew he couldn't hide it from you forever.

Especially when you announced that you were pregnant.

"P-Pregnant?"

You nodded with tears in your eyes. "I went to the doctor this morning to confirm it." You knew his next question before he could ask it. "Six weeks." You giggled nervously when he didn't speak. "I know it's a surprise but a happy one, right?"

Alexander tore himself from his daze, quietening the whispers rattling his brain that warned him that it was time to tell you the truth and he'd sealed your fate. "A brilliant surprise." He stepped forward, hugging you tightly and you smiled against his shoulder as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. Alexander stepped back a few moments later and you frowned when you saw the way his jaw ticked when he was worried about something, and the tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, "I'm thrilled. I am truly. It's -" He stepped back and held out a hand when you stepped forward to comfort him. "I'm sorry."

"Alex, you're scaring me." You felt tears pricking your eyes.

"I don't want to." He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. "It's the last thing I want."

"Then talk to me."

He shook his head, meeting your gaze. "It's easier to show you."

"Show me?" Your eyes widened when he woged for the first time and you stared at the Pflichttreue in disbelief. "Wha- How? What?" You stepped back subconsciously, placing a hand on the countertop when you felt your back hit it.

"I won't hurt you." He shook his head, reverting to his human form. "I can explain everything."

"Y-You -" Your eyebrows knit together, "How did you - What?" You breathed heavily and the Pflichttreue lowered his head when you moved away, the breakfast bar separating you both.

That night Alexander told you everything. The truth about who he was, who his family were, and his work for the Wesen Council. You moved to the living room, sitting on the armchair in disbelief, wiping away tears that fell down your cheeks.

"You lied to me."

"I was trying to protect you."

"From what?" You met his gaze for the first time for over an hour and the Pflichttreue swallowed the gravel in his throat when he saw your tears.

"From me. From my world." He admitted. "I never intended to hurt you, I was trying to protect you. That's all I wanted. I tried to stay away, but I couldn't. Even when I barely knew you, I loved you. And I don't want to lose you."

"Will they..." You placed a hand on your stomach and Alexander nodded. "Oh God." You covered your mouth, moving away from the armchair and the Pflichttreue whose gaze followed you as you stood by the window. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before meeting his gaze. "Two years. Two years! And you never said a word!"

He hung his head, and you saw it then. The vulnerability, his fear, and the helplessness. He couldn't change what he was, but he tried, to be with you. "I'm sorry. I can't...I know I can't turn back the clock, and undo it. I know I don't deserve it...but I-I," He looked at the ground as a tear fell down his cheek. "I need it. I need you."

You shook your head, "Does it hurt?" Alexander met your gaze. "That shifting thing. Will it hurt them?"

Alexander shook his head. "No." He stepped forward as you looked at the ground, "No, they will feel no pain. I promise."

Tears fell on your cheeks as a sob left your lips, this time from relief and Alexander cautiously reached out, bringing you into his embrace, sighing in relief when you rested your head on his chest. You clutched his jacket tightly, as you listened to his whispered apologies. You lifted your head after a few minutes and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

"No more secrets."

He nodded, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. "I promise."

You pulled away a few moments later. "Show me again."

Alexander looked at you hesitantly before he woged and your eyes widened, but you remained in his embrace. Curiosity replaced your previous fears and you tentatively reached up to place a hand on his cheek.

"I knew you were different when we met, but I didn't know how much."

"I'm still the man you married."

You lowered your hand, shaking your head, "You hid yourself from me, Alex. How am I to know what was you, and the person you pretended to be."

"The person I was with you, is the person I wish I was."

"You are a-a -"

"Pflichttreue." He supplied.

"A Pflichttreue. But you changed every story about your past and your family as if you were ashamed of it. I don't want that. I would never want that."

"Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it."

You shook your head and his expression faltered, believing you were going to tell him that you were staying with your parents, or telling him to leave the house you spent half your time in, the other half his estate in England.

"I need you to help me." You met his gaze with teary eyes. "I want to tell them stories about you. I want to be there for them, and I can't do that if I don't know anything about Wesen. I don't want to be heavily involved in the community. I just...I want to be a good mother."

"You will be." Alexander held your teary gaze, "You will be a fantastic mother."

"But I don't even know how to raise a baby. How can I raise a Wesen when there's so much I don't understand?"

He nuzzled his nose against yours and you closed your eyes, placing a hand on his neck. "I'll help you."

You pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, and a small smile formed on your lips. "I'm still mad at you, but you look so cute."

Alexander rolled his eyes when you hugged his waist. He rested his chin on your head with a smile, wrapping his arms around you and when you pulled back briefly to kiss his cheek, he knew that you would get through this and the weight on his chest got a little lighter.

There weren't many things that could rattle Alexander. He was the only person who could walk into an alley full of thugs and walk confidently out the other side. You never understood why, until that night when he told you that the Wesen community wasn't always a friendly place, filled with dangerous Wesen who hunted humans, and that he was sent by his superior to eliminate the threat to the secrecy of Wesen life. Alexander revealed the Wesens you had come in contact with and you were surprised when he told you about Rosalee and Monroe and their affiliation with a Grimm whose day job was a detective at the Portland Police Department.

The more you learned about the different types of Wesen the more convinced you were that he was right to keep your relationship hidden. And so, while you continued to buy tea from Rosalee, not hinting that you knew she was a Fuchsbau, or that Monroe was a Blutbad, your life remained largely the same, yet it was forever changed.

There weren't many things that could rattle Alexander. But when he came home after hunting a Wesen who was stealing people's memories and found evidence that you had been taken from the house, confirmed by the letter left by your kidnappers, the Pflichttreue immediately panicked. You were due to go into labor any day now, and he knew how ruthless Wesen could be.

Nick was stunned when Monroe called him and said that Alexander was in his house. When the Grimm entered Alexander was standing in the living room, Rosalee glancing between the Blutbad and the Pflichttreue who stared at each other.

Monroe opened the door with a sigh when the Grimm knocked. "Glad you're here."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Monroe closed the door as Nick entered, standing across from Alexander.

"Thank you for coming."

"I wish I could say the same." Nick slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, "How long have you been here?"

"Less than an hour. I would not have waited any longer." Alexander replied, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and walking around before turning to the wary Grimm. "I need your help."

"Really? I didn't know you asked Grimms for help."

"It depends on the circumstances. And the Grimm." 

"What is it that the Council thinks I can do for them?"

"The Council doesn't know about this." Alexander stunned the room into silence for a moment before adding, "And what I am about to tell you cannot leave this room. No one can know."

Monroe glanced at Rosalee who was equally perplexed.

Alexander began to shock the room further when he revealed he was married to a Kehrseite. Rosalee audibly gasped when he told them it was you. The Pflichttreue recalled the events that took place almost two hours earlier and the numerous pauses he took to collect himself did not go unnoticed.

"Do you know who took her?" Rosalee spoke up.

Alexander nodded, taking out the letter that had been left for him to find. "It's marked with her blood."

The Fuchsbau read the letter solemnly, and Monroe glanced at Alexander as he crossed the room to read over her shoulder. "She's pregnant?"

"Due any day now." Alexander looked at Nick. "I cannot go to the Council. To do so would bring more threats to her and our child. I need your help to get them back. There is no one else."

Rosalee looked at Monroe who frowned as he finished reading the letter and the Blutbad looked at Nick who knew from just one look that they needed to find you.

"Alright. We'll do it." Nick agreed.

The house you had been brought to was falling apart. Some of the windows were broken and the doors were rotting. The last thing you knew was a hand grabbing you from behind, and a cloth over your mouth. The next thing you knew were tied up in a dimly lit basement that made your skin crawl. You struggled against the rope, wincing when the wooden pillar dug into your back. You looked at your stomach, feeling tears pricking your eyes, wondering where your husband was and if he was alright. You knew he must've noticed you were missing by now, and knew he would be on his way to save you.

"Don't worry, little cub." You whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Daddy will be here soon."

All you wanted to do was place a comforting hand on your stomach to feel the kicks but with your hands bound behind your back you couldn't move, and it was enough to break your resolve. You held your breath, silencing your weeps, when you felt the cramps begin. A short while later you heard a loud noise from upstairs, feeling the ceiling shake with each hit the floor took. You flinched when you heard several gunshots, and screamed when a body fell down the staircase, landing near your feet.

A woged Monroe ran down the stairs as the Wesen got to his feet and you closed your eyes as the two men fought, turning your head away when the Blutbad approached you.

Monroe shifted back, holding his hands up, "I'm not going to hurt you."

You turned your head when you heard his voice. "Monroe?"

"Alexander is upstairs." He explained, untying your wrists.

"Monroe -"

He helped you stand, "Rosalee is upstairs too. And Nick. He's a Grimm. Did you know about that?"

You nodded, "Yes, but Monroe -" You clutched his arm when you felt your water break and his eyes widened when he saw it. "I'm in labor."

"Uh -" The Blutbad's panicked eyes glanced around. "Now?"

"I can't control it!"

"Can you walk?"

You shook your head, "What are we going to do?"

His panic increased when he saw your tears, "Hey, hey, just stay right here. Do not move. I'll be right back."

You nodded, trying to focus on your breathing as the Blutbad rushed upstairs. You rested a hand on the wooden pillar, another on your back as you breathe as you were taught in your parenting classes. You heard gunshots and hurried footsteps coming toward you. You sighed in relief when you saw Rosalee and Monroe and the Fuchsbau guided you to the floor. "Monroe, go upstairs."

The Blutbad nodded, "Upstairs. Got it."

You watched him rush to help Nick and Alexander defeat the others before looking at Rosalee. "Is he okay?"

She sent you a smile as she nodded. "He's fine. He's worried about you both. You know, I wondered why you stopped coming into my shop. I would've stopped by if I knew where you lived."

"I didn't want anyone to know about the baby." You exhaled through your teeth and looked at the ceiling when the house fell silent.

The door burst open minutes later and you sighed in relief when you saw Alexander rushing towards you. "Alex!"

He took your hand and you squeezed tightly when you felt another contraction. "I'm here. I'm here." He looked at the rope burns on your wrists with a frown before looking at Rosalee. "How far along is she?"

"She needs to push." The Fuchsbau explained.

Alexander shook his head, "Not here."

"I can't get upstairs." You chimed in.

Alexander stood up, scooping you into his arms, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Just hold on."

Rosalee followed after the Pflichttreue when he headed upstairs. You tightened your hold on him with each contraction and Monroe and Nick followed as he carried you outside.

"Put her in my car! I'll use the sirens!" Nick called.

"Open the door! Get the door!" Rosalee shouted, and Monroe quickly opened the car door and Alexander placed you inside the passenger seat.

You groaned as you held your stomach, and he woged, shaking his head to shift back as he pushed down his panic and reclined the seat to try and make you more comfortable. You looked at your husband as he held onto the door and he sent what he hoped was a reassuring smile before closing it.

Alexander got behind the driver's seat and the Grimm was stunned when he stole his car. Monroe caught the keys Alexander tossed out of the window and the trio quickly got into his car and followed behind as he raced towards the hospital, navigating the streets with ease with the sirens blaring. Alexander looked over at you when you held onto the handle above the door.

"I need to push before I get too tired."

Alexander shook his head, "Not yet."

"Alex -"

"We'll make it." He reached over and took your hand, "I promise."

He reduced a forty-minute drive to twenty and you held onto his arm as you entered the hospital. Nurses quickly brought a wheelchair and Alexander followed when they led you to a room.

After a grueling two hours, your son was born and you stared down at the hybrid as he slept, looking at your husband as he stood outside talking to a nurse. She nodded at something he said before walking away and you smiled when he entered the room, approaching the bed.

"They are downstairs. The Fuchsbau refused to leave. I told the nurse to send them up." He explained quietly, looking down at the sleeping newborn in your arms.

You nodded, thanking him with a smile. A few minutes later, the trio walked down the hallway towards your room and saw Alexander sitting next to you, smiling as he gazed down at your son with a smile, glancing at you with adoration.

"Is anyone else finding this weird to watch?" Monroe asked.

"Uh-huh." Nick agreed with a nod. "I can't believe he kept it a secret for two years."

Alexander stood up, taking your newborn to place him in the crib by your bed and turning to tuck the blankets beneath your chin as you lay down. You said something that made him nod and he kissed your forehead. You reached out to touch his bruising cheek and he sent you a smile before he noticed the trio watching. He stepped out of the room, putting his hands in his jacket as approached them.

"How is she?" Rosalee asked.

Alexander sent the Fuchsbau a small smile, seeing the sincere concern in her eyes. "She will be fine. She is understandably exhausted."

"And the baby?"

"A healthy boy."

"Can I..." Rosalee glanced at your room and Alexander nodded. She smiled as she walked toward your room and the Pflichttreue looked at the Grimm and the Blutbad.

"I want to thank you for your help tonight. You saved my family."

"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone," Monroe told him, earning a nod.

"Thank you." Alexander looked over his shoulder at where you were sleeping and Rosalee was smiling down at your newborn. "But that won't be necessary." He met the curious gaze of the Grimm, "I've realized that the more I try to hide them, the more they will become a target. It's time I integrated them into the Wesen world. Remove her fears." 

Rosalee walked out of the room, "He's beautiful." She cooed and Monroe smiled as she joined his side.

Alexander sent the Fuchsbau a small smile, "Thank you for your help tonight."

The Pflichttreue left the trio in the hallway, approaching your bed when he noticed you stir in your sleep. You met his gaze when your eyes opened and sent your husband a smile. You sat up, looking at your newborn who stretched in his sleep, woging briefly, and you placed your hands on his torso, leaning into him as you smiled.

"He's perfect, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is." Alexander kissed your head, smiling at your son as he slept peacefully. He looked down at you, pulling away slightly. "I'm sorry. I should've been there."

You took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You found us. We're here because of you. I know it wasn't easy reaching out to them for help."

"Actually," He took a seat beside you, placing his arm around you, "It was an easy decision given what was at stake." He looked over at your son, "While you were gone, I believe I found a way to make sure this won't happen again - ensure both of your safety."

You looked at him in surprise, "You want to tell the Council?"

Alexander nodded, "You will always be a target because of who I am. What I do. They can offer extra protection if I break the news correctly."

You looked away, considering his idea for a moment. "We could become a part of the community or they could shun us."

Alexander shook his head, "There are many hybrids." He nodded to your son, "A Pflichttreue's strongest loyalties are with our kind. He will be protected. As will you."

You turned your head, meeting his gaze, "You've really thought this through?" He nodded and you looked at your son when he yawned in his sleep and smiled softly. "Okay." You looked at your husband, squeezing his hand. "But I have an idea of my own."

Alexander immediately nodded, agreeing without hearing it. Your smile grew, knowing he would love it. "I want to live close to your family. I agree that he needs to be around his kind, but I want him to learn from his family."

Alexander smiled, and brushed his nose against yours, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"I love you too." You wrapped your arms around his neck and titled your chin to kiss him tenderly.

Alexander placed a hand on your cheek as he deepened the kiss and you smiled when you heard your son starting to cry. You patted his chest when he pulled away. "I can see the future clearly now." He jested as he walked over to pick up your son who calmed in his arms at the sound of his father's voice. "I will give you anything you wish, but your mother is mine."

"Alex!" You scolded with a giggle.

"We may share her attention occasionally. But one day you will meet a woman almost as great as she is, and you will understand."

You shook your head at your husband who smiled at your newborn who blinked up at him before yawning. Alexander took a seat beside you as your newborn fell asleep against his chest and you rested your chin on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Alexander tilted his head as he met your gaze.

"Sharing."

His response was immediate. "No."

You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to quieten your laughter to avoid disturbing the newborn. Alexander looked at you with a smile.

After your discharge from the hospital a few days later, Alexander prepared to approach the Council while you waited anxiously at home. He knew the cloak and dagger surrounding your relationship would be held against him, but he appealed to the few he knew had family dating humans, using his inside knowledge of those diverting from the Council's aims as he did and the Council agreed to place you and your son under the same protection their families had. Alexander knew it would take a while to earn the trust of De Groot again, but he knew that when you moved to England, there was no safer place than surrounded by his family - a family that adored you from the moment you met.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Making it Work (Chapter One)

Okay, so one of my New Year's Resolutions was to finally finish up this beastie and get it posted. It's an Auror Partner (enemies-to-friends-to-lovers) fic that I've been messing with for about two years at this point and it's more than halfway done so we're going to do it. This is going to be a lot of parts (it's presently 18 chapters and over 60,000 words long) and the explicit bits will only be on AO3. I'll tag all of the parts "making it work fic" if you'd like to follow along. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed it!

Harry tossed down the handful of parchment that comes with having a partner reassigned, on his desk before tearing off his robe. He’d just gotten out of a travesty of a meeting with Robards, how they could keep assigning him such half-wits as partners, was beyond him. 

He poked his head out of the office door, “Helena?”

“What?” she replied, snapping her gum as she flipped the page of her magazine that she was reading while she filled out case notes. She was the most disrespectful secretary he’d ever had, always snapping her gum, and sassing Harry, telling him he was an idiot, and she was terrible at taking his messages. But she didn’t think that Harry shot gold bricks. So. 

He loved her. 

“Hold my owls, please.”

She looked up from the notes she was transcribing onto the official form, “Who is it, then?” she asked, sounding a bit put out.

“I don’t know yet, but you’ll be the first to know when I do.”

“You always do this," she grumbled. "Better not be some wanker,” she muttered under her breath. Then she frowned up at him, “I liked Henry,” she whinged. 

“Oi,” Harry muttered, correcting her language, but his heart wasn’t in it, they both knew it. “Language. The new Auror joining us in this office may not like your snarkiness, and they will be as much your boss as I am.”

“So, not very much at all then,” she said with a smirk.

“Bloody cheeky,” Harry said, shaking his head. 

“You love it,” she replied.

He didn’t bother denying it, “Well, my new partner might not.”

An interdepartmental memo zipped into the office and Harry took the opportunity to close the door between the two of them. He took a deep breath and tried smoothing down his hair nervously. He hadn’t intended to get Henry reassigned. He was a nice enough bloke but he had been more concerned with Harry’s safety on a case than on the task ahead of them and that wouldn’t do. 

He’d tried to tell the powers that be repeatedly that he needed someone who didn’t see him as the savior to work with him. It was a danger to him and to everyone around them otherwise. 

Shaking his head, he glanced over to the window and startled to see a lovely white cat lying out in the sun. 

“Well, hello there, beautiful boy,” he said as he wandered over to the cat who stood up warily as he approached. He crouched down in front of the cat and held out his hand, “It’s alright,” he soothed. 

The cat stuck its nose up at the offering of Harry’s hand but rubbed against his right shin before twisting around to rub against Harry’s left thigh. This time, he allowed Harry to scratch between his ears before stretching then gracefully jumping up on Harry’s desk.

“Careful, lovely,” Harry murmured to the cat as it flopped gracefully over onto the pile of papers he’d tossed down on the way in. 

“Harry?” Helena called, she sounded vaguely nervous which did not bode well. “You need to see this interdepartmental memo.”

“I told you to hold them,” he said, scratching the cat’s chest while the cat rolled on his papers and purred.

“Yeah, you’re going to want to read this.”

Harry huffed a sigh and turned away from the cat, who jumped down from the desk, pushing the papers onto the floor. 

“I told you to be careful,” Harry tsked softlyy at the cat, who ignored him in favor of rubbing against the chair. 

He bent down to pick up the papers as Helena called, “Seriously, this shouldn’t wait.”

With a sigh, he tossed the papers back on his desk and opened the door again. The cat followed him out into the waiting room outside his office and rubbed against the corner of the desk before sitting and delicately licking its paw. 

Harry snatched the memo from her hand and read the brisk lines.

AUROR  POTTER, PLEASE ENSURE THE SECOND DESK IN YOUR OFFICE IS READY FOR YOUR NEW PARTNER TODAY. AUROR MALFOY WILL BE MOVING HIS THINGS IN SHORTLY.  HA ROBARDS

“Are you punking me, Helena?” he asked because that was the only logical explanation for this missive. There was no way anyone in their right mind would have paired him and Malfoy together. 

They’d kill each other in the first week. 

“No,” she said softly, more seriously than he had ever heard her.

He stared blankly ahead for a moment, “Fuck me,” he grunted. At Helena’s startled laugh, he came back to himself. He shook his head ruefully, “Sorry.” 

He went back into his office before she could say anything else and looked around. The second desk was clear, Henry had cleared his things out the evening before and Harry had decided to try to tidy up some of his things as well, first impressions and all that.

Not that there was anything that could fix the past decade worth of impressions they'd had on one another at this point, he thought glumly.

It was only a few minutes later when he could feel Malfoy enter the room. He’d always had a strong magical signature, Harry just hadn’t learned to recognize it until he’d become an Auror. He took a steadying breath, “Malfoy,” he said by way of greeting.

“Potter,” came the terse reply.

Harry turned around and they stood staring at one another for a long moment, there was tension there, a lifetime of anger and resentment broiling between them. He clenched his fists and slowly relaxed them. “I don’t know how this is going to work.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Potter,” Malfoy snapped, as he pushed in past him, all of his boxes levitating behind him. “Don’t be such a child. Am I to assume this is my desk?” he asked, waving an irritatingly graceful hand at the desk that didn’t belong to Harry. 

Harry was frankly surprised that he hadn’t tried to move to his desk just to be contrary instead. “Yes,” he said.

Malfoy started spelling his possessions out of his boxes and into the drawers and filing cabinet. 

“Why are you unpacking?” Harry asked.

Malfoy didn’t even pause in directing his files to the correct drawers. “I was under the impression that I now have the distinct honor of being assigned as your new partner,” he drawled.

“We’ll never pass the compatibility test,” Harry said.

“Finally admitting how hard you are to work with, Potter?” Malfoy asked with a smirk.

Harry glared at Malfoy, “Oddly it wasn’t me I was worried about.”

“Ah,” Malfoy said, “Still struggling under the weight of your massive ego, then?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Harry all but snarled at him.

“How many partners have you had?” Malfoy asked, his voice irritatingly collected as he leaned his hip against his desk and folded his arms over his chest.

“What does that have to do-”

“How. many,” he interrupted calmly.

“Six,” Harry spat.

“So, that makes me lucky number seven,” Malfoy said, “Do you know how many partners I’ve had, Potter?” 

“No.”

“One. I have been with my last partner for the past four years; he retired a few days ago and that is the only reason I need a new partner. What was your longest stint with a partner? Ten months?” 

“That isn’t my fault.”

“Of course not,” Malfoy said placatingly, and Harry hated how calm he sounded. “It couldn’t possibly be that the Savior of the Wizarding World is hard to work with.”

“I’m not hard to work with!” Harry protested. 

“No?”

“No!” Harry snapped. “I am great at teamwork.”

“Sure,” Malfoy replied with that haughty, trademark Malfoy smirk that had always driven Harry round the twist. 

Harry was about to reply, something scathing, he was certain when Helena interrupted them. “Harry? Auror Malfoy?” she asked, a touch more timid than Harry had ever heard her.

“Draco, please,” Malfoy corrected her, but his voice was warm and open in a way Harry found exceedingly suspicious. 

“Draco,” she corrected and gave him a tiny half-smile. 

Bloody Malfoy charm was already winning over his favorite secretary. “Did you have something you needed to say?” Harry snapped at her.

“Yes, I can see how easy you are to work with,” Draco commented dryly.

Helena snorted at this and Harry glared at her, betrayal burning in his gut. She glanced at him and smoothed her face into some semblance of seriousness. “Head Auror Robards would like to see you in his office.”

“Good. The sooner we get the compatibility tests out of the way the better,” Harry said. “Then we can forget about this farce.”

He started out down the hall, Malfoy at his left, “Potter, have you ever failed a compatibility test?”

“No,” Harry replied, “Because I am easy to work with.”

“Right,” Malfoy said again. “What do you imagine happens when you fail a compatibility test?”

“Your partner gets reassigned,” Harry said. The ministry would never make you work with someone who was dangerous for your well being. Partners had to be able to trust one another, if they couldn’t there was no hope of them being able to work out in the field.

He walked up to Robard’s assistant, “Hello, Matthew.”

“Hello Auror Potter,” he replied, then peeked around Harry, “Auror Malfoy.”

“Head Auror Robards summoned us,” Harry told him even as Malfoy tried to greet him.

“Yes,” he said, “He’s ready for you.”

Harry stomped toward the door, but Malfoy stopped at his desk, “It’s Draco,” he told him and Harry heard Matthew laugh. “How’s that new crup pup?”

Matthew all but squealed with delight, “He’s perfect,” he gushed. “Well, mostly,” he said with a laugh. “We're still working on house training.”

Draco laughed, “Good. I’m glad.”

“Thank you for the recommendation,” he said.

Harry cleared his throat, “If you’re ready, Malfoy?”

“Sorry, Matt,” Draco said, nodding toward Harry. “Best be off. Say hi to Laurence for me.”

“Will do,” the other man replied easily.

They walked through the door that let them into the hallway leading to Robard’s office. “What are you playing at?”

“Pardon?” Malfoy asked, in the most bored tone Harry’d ever heard. 

“Oh, Matt, tell me about your puppy. Say hi to your husband for me. Kisses, kisses,” Harry mocked.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Potter,” he replied.

“Oh, no? Did you get him the crup from the black market or something?”

“You can’t be serious,” Malfoy said as they stopped outside of the door into Robard’s office. “You are serious. Circe. Can you even hear yourself? Is it even possible for someone as stupid as you clearly are to become an Auror?”

“Is it even possible for someone as slimy and malicious as you to be an Auror?” Harry countered.

Malfoy inhaled deeply through his nose, “Listen, Potter. I know it will be difficult for you to understand, but I’ll try to use small words. Not all of us are still stuck in their Glory Days at Hogwarts. Some of us have grown and changed.”

“Like I can even believe a word-”

The door in front of them opened and Robards looked the two of them up and down, “If you’re quite through,” he drawled. “I haven’t got all day to wait for you two to have your spat.”

“It’s his fault,” Harry accused even as Malfoy said, “My apologies, Head Auror.”

Harry seethed, now Malfoy was just trying to make him look bad. 

“Inside,” Robards said as he turned from them and went back into the office.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Harry hissed.

“What? Keep my job?” Draco asked, voice equally soft but hard.

“Not another word,” Robards said.

“But, Sir,” Harry started as the two of them sat down in front of his desk, “You can’t honestly expect us to work together. We have nothing in common and we’ll probably end up killing one another.”

“I was under the impression that you’d spoken at Auror Malfoy’s hearing after the war.”

“Yes, but-”

“And that you’d pushed for him to be released,”

“Yes, but-”

“And encouraged them to rule him innocent of all crimes.”

“Yes, but-”

“So, what are your objections?”

“He’s,” Harry started before realizing ‘a massive git’ probably wouldn’t do. “Malfoy,” he finished lamely. “We’ve never gotten on a day in our lives. We have nothing in common.”

Robards turned to Malfoy, “Auror Malfoy, do you have the same reservations?”

Harry whipped his head to look over at Malfoy next to him. Malfoy didn’t even glance at him but looked straight at Robards. He cleared his throat, “Sir, we had a childhood rivalry.”

“A childhood rivalry?!” Harry exclaimed, that hardly seemed to do their antagonism justice. 

Robards turned to glare at Harry, “Auror Malfoy didn’t interrupt you while you were speaking, could you please manage to offer him the same courtesy?”

Harry fell back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Perhaps it sounds understated when I say childhood rivalry,” Malfoy said, then he added, “We openly antagonized one another. I said cruel things about him and his friends, he returned the favor.”

“More than cruel,” Harry muttered.

“More than cruel,” Malfoy affirmed softly, looking down at his lap and for a moment Harry forgot to hate him and felt a little guilty. Then Malfoy looked up again, eyes clear and Harry’s stomach unclenched, “But I am not the boy I was at school,” he said, glancing at Harry. “And neither is Potter.” He paused, then added, “As much as he is trying to make himself seem like he is.” 

Harry wanted to offer an angry retort but knew that would only serve to demonstrate what Malfoy was saying.

“I think,” Malfoy said carefully, “That working together will be a challenge, nonetheless. There’s a lot of history between us, not much of it good.”

“That seems like an understatement.”

“Look, Potter,” Robards said, “I’m going to be frank with you. You’re a damn good Auror,” he said and Harry preened at the compliment. “But you are a massive pain in my arse.”

Malfoy snorted and Robards glared at him. “Sorry,” Malfoy said, holding out a hand and smoothing out the smirk on his face.

Robards turned back to Harry, who still felt affronted at his comment. “I have never had an Auror go through as many partners as you have.”

“It’s not my fault,” Harry said, skin heating. “It’s not right for me to have a partner that thinks my life is more valuable than anyone else’s. It’s dangerous.”

“I hear you. I have heard you saying that for the past 4 years but you’re Harry Potter,” he said with a shrug. “It’s damn near impossible to find anyone who doesn’t have a bit of a hero-worship complex where you’re concerned.”

Harry frowned at that, “I never asked for that. And I have lots of friends who don’t see me that way.” None that were Aurors, Harry thought somewhat bitterly at Ron.

“Merlin, Potter,” he grunted as he took his glasses off to rub his eyes in a weary sort of gesture. “I’m not blaming you for that, I am just saying I heard you and as soon as Auror Malfoy’s partner retired, I knew I’d found a solution.”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realized exactly where this was going. 

“Auror Malfoy is an outstanding Auror, he was at the top of his class and he’s done well here. He also doesn’t have the problem your past partners have of idolizing you.”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure what he was meant to say because as much as he may not like it, Robards had a point.

Robards looked between the two of them and when neither of them said anything he continued, “Now. When you go to your compatibility testing and fail,” Harry wanted to bristle at that, but it was probably the truth, “you’re going to have a month to get your scores to passing.”

“Wait,” Harry said, “So if we fail, we aren’t automatically assigned a new partner?”

“No,” Robards replied, “I don’t have an endless supply of Aurors to pair you with Potter. As I was saying, when you fail, you’ll have a month to get your scores to passing. The ministry owns a property that is most commonly used as a safe house, but when you fail, the two of you are going to move into it together.”

“You want us to live together?” Malfoy spluttered and Harry couldn’t help but share the sentiment. 

“Yes. You’ll come to work each day and work together, on office work not in the field, then you’ll have one hour from the end of the workday to run errands, pick up things you need from the store or your homes, and any other personal business you have. After that hour you’ll need to spend your evenings together.”

“What if I want to have dinner with my friends?” Harry asked. 

“Then you’ll bring Auror Malfoy with you and vice versa. You’re both smart, you’ll figure it out.” Robards shuffled the papers on his desk into a neat pile and Harry could do nothing but stare incredulously at him. “You are dismissed to have your compatibility test. Once it’s finished you’re done for the day; you will have two hours to get what you’ll need to move in to this address,” he said as two slips of paper floated across the desk to Malfoy and Harry. “You’ll be keyed into the wards before you arrive.”

The clock on the wall struck three and Robards glanced at it. “I’ve got to go, I have an appointment with the Minister. Matthew can answer any questions you may have about the property.”

With that, he shooed them out of his office and Harry walked down the hall in a daze. He must be dreaming. It was the only explanation. 

Malfoy stopped to talk to Matthew, presumably to ask questions about the safe house they were about to move into, but Harry couldn’t hear it. “I’m going to use the loo. I’ll meet you at Auror Higgins office,” he said vaguely. 

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

(Part Two)

[animerina]

The Third Leaf Represents Love-Yami Sukehiro

Summary: Part 1 of a collection of Black Clover x Reader stories.

Note: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. I really did not intend to start off with such a long fic for Yami, but here we are. I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this series, and please feel free to let me know who else you’d like to see featured.

“This was such a great idea, Captain,” she sighed as she sunk deeper into the pool of steaming water. She’d never experienced such a treat, the hot water lapping at her skin and soothing her sore muscles. Asta and Noelle had mentioned something like this the last time they’d been whisked away by Mereoleona, but she’d been out and missed being dragged along. Captain Yami had called it an onsen, an indoor hot spring; something he’d been wanting for the base for a long while.

“Had to pressure Henry into making another change, but worth it,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the wooden edge.

“So,” she peeked over at him across the barrier that barely hid the other side of the onsen. “Did you intend for the boys’ and girls’ side to be in the same room?”

“Shut up. I’m trying to relax woman!” Another groan left him before he mumbled a response. “Henry didn’t quite understand what I wanted.”

“Sure, Captain. I’m sure it wasn’t because you want an eyeful.”

“Like there’s anything to look at in this damn squad,” he scoffed loud enough for her to hear.

“Yami!” She gasped in mock offense, their playful natures feeding off each other. “How rude!”

He huffed out a small laugh before sinking further under the water. They both knew he was joking, especially since they’d been known to find their way into each others beds in the middle of the night. She had called it stress relief, and he had said the same once or twice, but the truth was he didn’t like admitting how much he craved her. Her teasing never helped. Even today when she’d joined him, she had refused to get in with him, turning her nose and insisting that it was the boys’s side and the water was probably filthy. He had rolled his eyes and told her to do what she wanted, but he still peeked when she threw her towel off.

She turned away from him and began wading to the other side of the designated girls’ pool, smirking at the image of her captain obscured by the billowing steam. “Well if you aren’t going to make any changes to the design, you should invite the rest of the captains over to enjoy your brilliant idea. I, for one, would love an eyeful of that Fuegoleon Vermillion.”

“Alright, that’s it.” She heard from his side. “Now you’re really in for it, woman!”

She giggled and moved further away as Yami heaved himself over the barrier, his body on full display. She had little time to appreciate it before he was on her, crowding up her smaller body against the edge of the basin. The hard wood dug into her back forcing her to arch deeper into his body.

“You wanna repeat that, princess?”

“Yami,” she sighed airily, smirk never leaving her face. Her favorite hobby as of late had been teasing her captain, knowing full well she wouldn’t let another man touch her. She didn’t want anyone else, but she’d never admit that out loud, not when the two had such a great thing going on. She wouldn’t dare ruin that.

Leaning her body on Yami’s chest, she gazed up at him with defiance in her eyes. “If he were here now, oh the things I’d let him do to me.”

His hand shot out around her throat, squeezing until the line between pleasure and pain blurred. She struggled to swallow, but kept her act up. “Why so angry, Captain? Don’t like me fucking other men?”

“I think you need to be taught a lesson,” he growled, hand squeezing just a little tighter. “Or did you forget you belong to me?”

Her façade fell for a moment, eyes widening as she struggled to breathe, and Yami was perceptive enough to relax his hold to where he was only holding her in place. His thumb stroked the side of her neck as he leaned in. “You wanna act like a slut, then I’ll treat ya like one.”

He moved like lightning and before she had blinked, he had her arms pinned to her chest as he held her from behind. She was settled in his lap, legs spread wide as he ground his hips against her. His length, already hardened from her teasing, caught her fluttering hole with every thrust, not enough to slip in, but enough to keep her whining against his chest. One hand slipped down and traced faint circles on her womanhood.

“Yami,” she whimpered. “Captain, please!” The last bit a long-winded plea that Yami could only describe as desperate. “Please, I want it so bad.”

“Awww what’s wrong, brat? Bit off more than your pretty mouth could chew? That’s too bad.”

“You’re so mean!”

“You gonna cry? What a baby!” He taunted, enjoying her torment. “Still want Captain Firepants to come fuck you stupid?”

She was lost to his torment, her mind a fog full of Yami’s impressive mana and the feeling of his equally impressive length slotted against her. She couldn’t think beyond forming pleas much less when he asked her a question. In her confusion, she blurted out, “Who?”

“Good answer,” he chuckled and let her sink down on him thoroughly enjoying the moan that ripped out of her. “Awww, you like that? I bet you do.”

He allowed her to settle herself the rest of the way and swallowed his own groan of pleasure as she tightened around him. Yami released her for a while as she adjusted, letting her lay against his broad chest until she started squirming again, her hands finding leverage on the bench beneath him. Curling his arms around her again, she found herself locked in place.

“But-,” she started but was interrupted by Yami’s booming laugh.

“You’re gonna sit nice and pretty on my lap while your captain relaxes. Got it?”

Another whine escaped her, but she lay her head back conceding to his demand. She tucked her head against his throat, brows furrowed in frustration.

“And don’t you even thing about moving,” he added with a swat to her rear that made her squeeze tighter. Yami groaned once more. “And if I cum inside, well, that’s your problem.”

She sighed into the column of his throat, her stubbornness gone as she gave herself over to the man she trusted most. “Yes, Captain.”

“Mmm,” he stroked her hips gently. “Good girl.”

She’d been quiet for a while as they had sat in the bath. The heat from the steam and from her body had gotten to him and he gently brushed hair from her forehead.

“You didn’t fall asleep on me did ya?”

Murmuring a no, she opened her eyes and tried prying herself from him, but the motion only made her clench tighter. Yami hissed and grabbed onto her hips with bruising force.

“Oi,” he exclaimed over her whine. “Gimme a sec would ya?”

As gently as he could, he maneuvered her so she was sitting on the edge of the bath. Giving her a quick kiss, he ran his hands through her hair.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “But I didn’t cum.”

He snorted. “Yeah? Well me either, princess. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Beg you.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, her voice turning back to an airy whisper. “Please, Captain. I want you so badly. I need you to fuck me and make me cum. Only you can do it right.”

“So desperate,” he chided with another swat to her backside. “Don’t need anyone else, huh?”

“Just you, sir.”

“Shit,” he hissed.

He sensed no ki coming from the hallway so he took the opportunity to toss her over his shoulder, causing a yelp, and sauntered to his bedroom where she was thrown onto his unmade sheets. Making his way to sit against the headboard, he relished in the sight of her crawling over the mattress onto him. She eyed him hungrily, wanting to feel every inch of him, but before she could settle on his lap once more, he stopped her. Yami was shit at expressing himself and he knew it, so he tried to say what he wanted with actions more than words. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her into a breath taking kiss full of teeth and tongue. She savored it as much as he could before he pulled away leaving a trail of saliva between the two.

“Ah, ah,” he shook his head as he flipped her around so she was facing the foot of the bed. “Show me.”

Knowing what he meant, she flushed as she placed herself face down on the fresh sheets. She honestly felt so boneless she could barely hold herself up, but she didn’t need to. Yami was already behind her, hands holding her hips steady and putting her fluttering hole on display. His thumb stroked her sensitive bud, the muscles clenching around air and he chuckled at the sight. It was red and slightly swollen from their earlier activities, but it was a sight he’d never get tired of.

“So greedy,” he taunted. “I guess I better fill you up.”

Yami wasted no more time. He spit, letting his saliva drip down her cunt before burying himself in one thrust. Still sensitive, she cried out, fingers grasping at his sheets as he started a brutal pace. She thought he’d be gentle this time, but she should have known better. He was always such a beast in bed.

The angle allowed him to plunge deeper than earlier. He relished in every cry she made as he found his rhythm, every thrust hitting something deep inside that made her beg for more. She shook with pleasure as his hands traveled down to massage her sides. It was such a raw sensation as if the pads of his fingers were carving deep marks on her ribs and belly. Imaging how sore she’d be tomorrow, she hoped he’d give her a bit of rest, at least for a few hours before training tomorrow. There was no way she was going to be able to after they were done. And as worn out as she knew she’d be, she somehow found the strength to rock herself back to meet his thrusts as she chased her release.

He was being tougher than usual, he knew, but he couldn’t control himself anymore-not when she  made those cute, desperate little sounds. She was gorgeous beneath him as always-a sight he craved far too often. When they had started this whatever-it-was, he had just thought of it as sex, but it quickly turned into much more at least for him. He had remained quiet about his feelings not only because he didn’t want to spoil these moments, but also because he was her superior. If she didn’t feel the same, though he hoped she did, he didn’t want her to feel obligated to keep sleeping with him. So Yami decided he would stay quiet for as long as possible, but she made it difficult when she looked at him with that damn grin and that wild streak in her eyes. And when she’d be whining beneath him, the attitude all but fucked out of her. She’d be the death of him, that Yami swore, but what a sweet way to go.

This time felt different. Neither of them knew why, but it did. She felt Yami speed up, sensing his end and tried to catch up herself. Maybe the long soak in the tub still had her head reeling, but she felt like her body was on fire. She couldn’t think much past the pleasure she was experiencing, but her thoughts floated in and out of focus as she came undone. She vaguely heard herself beg him to keep going, though she wasn’t sure if she said that aloud or just in her head. She lay boneless as Yami turned her over and heaved her onto her back as he continued his pace, his teeth grit as he reached his end.

“Sorry I came in you.” Yami sat above her on his bed watching her shoulders rise and fall as she regained her senses. He really had meant to pull out, but the blissed-out look on her face nearly ruined him and he lost control. They had always been cautious, but he supposed they were both lost to their senses. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips as he admired the image before him. Her body lay slotted against his thigh as she snuggled deeper into his mess of a bed.

“It’s alright,” she sighed into the pillow she had curled around. “There’s a tea I can take for that.”

He stroked her lower back, the pads of his fingers digging in and causing her to shudder, the aftermath of her undoing still fresh. There was a long silence between them, one that was both comfortable and familiar. It made Yami feel more vulnerable than he expected making him express his inner thoughts aloud, surprising both himself and the woman laying in his bed.

“Or maybe you could not take it?” It had been said so quietly, she hardly heard him, but once she registered what he had said, she nearly shot up, turning toward him.

“What?”

“I mean,” he trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck knowing it was far too late to take back his words. “I don’t know-kinda like the idea of a couple kids running around.”

“Yami, we’re not even really dating and you want to have kids?” She could not believe they were having this discussion right now of all times.

Yami knew he should have just kept quiet, and he knew that this might ruin what they had, but he couldn’t find it in himself to brush it off as a joke. He’d already taken the first step off the cliff, he might as well just fall.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re seeing other people. And maybe I really am-,” he scoffed at his inability to admit his feelings. “What I’m trying to say is that I think I might be-.” He grumbled into his hand before rubbing his face. Finally, he found he had no other words to say but, “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

After the shock of having her captain confess to her wore off, all she could do was smile up at him. How stupid she’d been hiding her feelings and letting her heart break a little at a time. Reaching for his hand, she brought it to her lips, kissing his calloused knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m fucking in love with you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she held her arms out for him to join her. He settled against her, pulling her onto his chest.

“You really want a kid though? You think you’re ready?” She mused.

“I have a squad full of ‘em already. I think I can handle a couple more.”

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: 3 Thanksgiving Stories

Alright folks, this week you get three stories in one promo. There are so many wonderful Halloween-themed and Christmas-themed CS stories, but I have always wished there were more centered around our pirate and princess (and the rest of the OuaT gang) celebrating Thanksgiving together. Over the years, I’ve written a few myself, and I couldn’t choose between them this morning, so I’ve included all three in this week’s self-promo post. 

They can also be found on AO3 and ff.net. If that’s your preference, just look for the links below:

“And All the Trimmings”      AO3       ff.net

“We Gather Together (Glad for the Blessings)”    AO3      ff.net

“Bless What is Given You”     AO3       

Some Thanksgiving fluff written during 5B as I anxiously hoped for them to return from the Underworld with their hero party still intact and a pirate in tow. Nods to CS, Snowing, and OQ in here (I even intended on trying to work in Rumbelle, but it didn’t happen) Anyway, think that’s it. Enjoy – and please let me know what you think if you’re so inclined!

“Charming?” his lovely wife’s voice rings brightly from the loft’s small kitchen right into the erstwhile Prince of the Enchanted Forest’s ears as he bustles through the door of their apartment, arms full of groceries and cheeks red from the first deep chill and frost of the year. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Snow, I’m back!” he calls, bemused smile quirking up one side of his mouth. A chuckle escapes David Nolan’s throat at how happy and excited his Princess sounds. Setting his purchases on the table until he can hang his coat back on its peg, he shakes his head with affectionate good humor and goes to meet her in the kitchen.

If he’s honest with himself, David is nearly as anxious and thrilled as Snow. After all, their entire family, with all its odd, extended members, will soon be gathered here with them for the first Thanksgiving holiday they have celebrated together. His heart swells at the very idea – even if at the same time he has to simply hope the whole thing will really manage to go off without a hitch…or any bloodshed.

“Looking for these?” he asks with happy teasing in his voice as he enters the kitchen, sets the several plastic bags from the market on the counter, and leans over the center island to plant a kiss on Snow’s upturned lips.

“Yep,” she chirps, beaming at him as they part and reaching in to begin unpacking, “I was.”

Charming moves back into the front dining area, preparing the table and making sure they have enough chairs, that the candles and centerpieces Snows wants are out, and letting her get back to her cooking in the meantime. Between the homemade noodles, green beans, and the mashed potatoes and gravy his wife has simmering all at once, Charming is impressed she can keep everything going without setting anything on fire, much less have the whole apartment smelling good enough to make him drool, and he certainly doesn’t want to distract her from it. No matter how long they have been married, or what realm they find themselves in, it doesn’t take long for Snow to prove that she will never cease to surprise and amaze him.

He has just stepped back to survey his handiwork proudly when the doorbell rings. Swiftly moving forward to answer it before Snow comes running, Charming’s smile grows even wider as Henry bursts into the room, greeting him enthusiastically and launching right into a story of their hectic morning. He is followed by Roland, who is practically bouncing up and down in place and vibrating with rambunctious energy, his deep dimples cracking wide across his face. After their two boys come Robin and Regina, each laden with items that Charming attempts to help take off their hands.

Robin hands over the delectably scented and delicious-looking turkey, beaming proudly as he gives a nod toward the perfectly crisped and golden brown bird on the platter, which has clearly been charmed in some way by Regina to stay warm and ready to place on the table. “Caught it myself, Mate,” Robin says. “Should be a good one.”

Charming sets the turkey on the long dining table he has just finished with, then claps his friend on the shoulder and ushers him in. “I’m sure it will be. Thanks,” he answers.

Robin slings an insulated bag off his shoulder and holds it forward as well. “Regina’s apple tarts,” he explains with both a mischievous smile and a shrug of feigned innocence. The former thief knows the rest of the family’s understandable aversion to the fruit, but he also somewhat adores his beloved’s rather twisted sense of humor and refusal to shy away from her past by making a dish that highlights the difference in her now and just how far she has come. With a wink, he tacks on, “Taste tested them myself, and they’re irresistible.”

The archer moves past, on into the loft to greet Snow and to catch and corral his young son. Regina raises a sculpted brow at David as she enters after Robin, their new little girl sleeping cradled in her arms and a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Though David knows all too well that having a newborn in the home can be harrying, the formerly evil Queen looks as completely polished and put together as always – not a hair out of place. “Charming,” she greets with a wry nod, somehow managing to inject even the simplest hello with her trademark dry sarcasm. They may be on the same side now, fumbling towards being a truly non-dysfunctional family, but he somehow feels that her half-mocking way of using the name Snow gave him will never change, and perhaps – in Regina’s own way – it is meant as an endearment.

Peeking into the layers of lavender blanket bundled around Robin and Regina’s little daughter to shield her from the biting wind outside, Charming can’t help a soft grin at the sweet, perfect infant sleeping peacefully, the softest wisps of russet curls on her little head and her soft, pale pink skin. “She’s lovely, Regina,” he murmurs in quiet awe, not wanting to rouse little Mariana, and feeling a flood of affection for this woman who once hunted he and Snow, wanting both of their heads, but who also saved Snow’s life as a child, and has clawed her way back from the bottom to right her wrongs.

Before he can close the door behind her, Emma and Killian come tramping up the hall stairs, cheeks flushed and both laughing at some unknown joke between them, but greeting him heartily as they see that he is standing there watching. Emma reaches David first, falling into her dad’s arms and returning his hug exuberantly before reaching back to pull Killian in as well when he hesitates, effectively sandwiching herself between the two of them in a three-way hug. The laugh that rings from his daughter’s throat, light and open and at last free of the guilt and pain she had been saddled with for too long, is all David needs to be as grateful this Thanksgiving as at any he can remember.

“Thanks Dad,” Emma mumbles almost bashfully when she does ease back and both she and her pirate boyfriend pull away. They follow him into the house, their food contributions in hand.

“Aye, thank you for having us, Mate,” Killian adds with a dip of his chin as they all step through the door and he shuts it behind himself. He offers his love’s father a genuine smile when their gazes meet, Emma having busied herself with hanging up their jackets and removing her boots. For a moment, David is frozen in place, forcibly reminded of how Killian had looked just a few weeks before, when they had found him in the black depths of the Underworld. As long as any of them live, David fears the sight of Killian Jones which had greeted them beyond the Veil would be hauntingly branded on their souls. Chained to a dank stone wall in the furthest recesses of Hades’ domain, the shade of a pirate that they’d found was not the dashing rapscallion they knew. Though bearing his torment in stoic silent, he had been emaciated and shivering, the dark rings under his eyes clearly showing that Killian had known no sleep nor peace since he left their world. The rest of the rescue party had stood horrified as Emma fell to her knees before him, tears pouring down her face while she reached out to cup his bearded cheeks in her hands. Worse than all that though had been the blank, almost unseeing despair in blue eyes that had always been so full of life; the vacancy in their depths no longer seemed like Killian at all and had truly made their blood run cold.

To see that spark back in Jones’ smiling gaze, and the dark bruises beneath his eyes fading, reminds David forcibly just how much they do have to celebrate before he clears his throat to respond with hoarse emotion. “Of course. We’re glad to have everyone. Snow’s really trying to outdo herself.”

Without further ado, David soon finds his family gathered around the table, talking, laughing and reveling in the warmth and happiness of the occasion. There is good natured ribbing at Emma’s continued inability to cook and a playful debate over whether or not the bottoms of several of the butter horn rolls she had made were more burnt than a nice golden brown. Mariana wakes from her nap and begins to gurgle and coo at everyone she can see gathered around her. Snow gushes over the pecan pie that Emma grudgingly admits Killian had made, complete with perfectly crimped edges of crust and an ornate little ‘KJ’ carved into the crunchy sugared top. ‘Figures,” Charming hears his daughter grumble with teasing chagrin, “He can cook circles around me with only one hand.”

Snow is quick to assure her daughter that she will get better with practice, but Killian only smirks at Emma, looking entirely as though he wants her to either smack or kiss the grin off his face. “Well, I had to sign such artwork, Swan,” he counters playfully. “You might have tried to take credit for it otherwise.”

The whole table laughs and carries on, but is quickly more absorbed in eating than talking, just comfortable in each other’s presence and enjoying a quiet moment. David looks to the other end of the long table and catches Snow’s eye, perfectly understanding the misty look he finds there. This was all either of them had ever wanted: a family, all together, happy and safe. It is what they had sacrificed so much for their best chance at preserving. He smiles at his True Love, marveling that two other pairs of True Loves sit in this very room with them, and tucks into his own meal at last. Now that they have all found each other, this family has every blessing it could possibly need.

~*~ Post s6 Thanksgiving fluff; Other than Robin being alive, and Belle not being reconciled with Rumple, I don’t think there is any reason this couldn’t fit into the timeline somewhere after the CS wedding. There aren't a lot of Thanksgiving fics in this fandom, despite all the Halloween and Christmas ones, and so I thought I would try to do my part with this little one shot – especially seeing as it's a holiday I truly love, and I would adore being able to watch the whole Charming-Swan-Jones-Mills family get to relax, break bread together, and just enjoy a "quiet moment" or two. 

Barreling into the kitchen calling out "Henry?! Killian?!", Emma Swan was already well into panic mode due to the charred, burning smell that had reached her nostrils as soon as she'd mounted the steps to the front porch and the plumes of grey smoke wafting into her vision in the entryway once she opened the door. She was skidding to a stop at the kitchen table before she realized that though the fire alarm had been bleating raucously, there were no sounds of panic or yells of dismay. Instead, though both of her True Loves were now frozen, looking to her guiltily as if caught with their hands painted red - Killian bent over the open stove and Henry with his arm outstretched, fanning the air with a hot pad - they appeared to have been happy as clams until her sudden entrance..

Clearly they weren't in any immediate danger, and Emma's posture relaxed upon seeing the house wasn't burning down and neither her son nor her pirate was blackened to a crisp. Shaking her head at them both, she genuinely tried to look stern instead of both relieved and ready to burst out laughing. Crossing her arms, she mused aloud, "Do I even want to know what the two of you are doing?"

Sighing in defeat, Killian stood to his full height, letting the oven door bang closed and not quite meeting her reproving gaze as he raked a hand through his hair, darted a quick glance at Henry, then finally answered her question. "We were trying to help you, Swan. It seemed prudent to get started with the main course before hosting your entire family tomorrow, and the lad felt sure he could offer guidance on the proceedings."

Henry flushed as Killian gestured toward him, and shrugged sheepishly, looking up at her with big brown eyes that, though in an older face, still proved as irresistible to her as when he'd showed up on her doorstep as a ten-year-old. "I may have overestimated how closely I was watching my other mom the last time she did this."

Emma couldn't help it; her metabolism did tick up a few notches and her eyes widened in shocked dismay. "Oh no, don't tell me… Do you mean to say you guys ruined that 19 pound Butterball I had all ready in the freezer?"

Killian winced a bit at her reaction. "Come now, Lass, it isn't as if we did it on purpose. You were just saying last night how you wanted everything to be perfect, you've never been able to celebrate a real family Thanksgiving with all the trimmings before, and everything should be just right. We only wished to help you along."

Emma gave an exaggerated nod as she responded, "Ah, I see," before a knowing light slipped into her eyes while studying one and then the other to see who would crack first. "Just selfless action from the good of your hearts, was it?"

Henry nodded, pulling off a ridiculously innocent look, but Killian couldn't quite meet her gaze, peeking up at her from beneath the fringe of his dark hair and eyelashes like a poor, repentant rascal. "Well, Swan, if the truth be told, we might have become a bit distracted…"

"I thought so," she affirmed with one last quick, triumphant dip of the head.

"Yes, well," Killian hemmed and hawed adorably, and Emma was almost afraid she might bite through her lip trying not to laugh out loud, the whole kitchen mishap long forgiven, but watching him stutter in embarrassment like he often caused her to do was too priceless to end just yet. "Love, your boy's moving picture box sucks a man in with its programs. Are you sure it doesn't possess some sort of hypnotic magic of its own? Perhaps we should not let Henry…"

"Okay, okay, hold up," Henry broke in anxiously, not about to see his stepdad - much as he might love him - relegate him back to the Stone Age with concern over modern technology.

Emma couldn't hold back her dissolution into helpless giggles any longer, and Killian stopped short with an affronted look at the noisy interruption from both of them at once. After a few moments, Emma reined in her laughter, assured Henry he wouldn't be losing all television privileges, and turned with the both of them to survey the wreck that had been her nice, clean kitchen when she'd left that morning, hands on hips. "Well boys, let's see what we can salvage," she said at last.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

In the end, the turkey is magicked to golden brown perfection for the holiday meal. Emma had hoped to succeed at doing it the old fashioned way, but after seeing the damage Killian and Henry had wrought with their attempt – and though she only admitted it to herself, knowing either one of them was better in the kitchen than she was, when not unfortunately sidetracked – she decided there was no sense in further risking the main course she intended to serve to company.

She, Killian, and Henry did spend a warm, domestic, evening making the accompanying side dishes together. After placing a tray of butterhorn rolls in the oven to cook, Emma turned to see Henry flip a spoonful of cranberry sauce at Killian, hitting him square on the nose and making him jerk back in surprise at the splat of impact.

"Hey now," her pirate warned, glowering as he raised a spoonful of stuffing for a counterattack.

Emma thought idly that she should be warning them not to waste food, not to destroy their kitchen for a second time in one day, and basically chide them both to behave themselves, but instead she could merely watch as author and pirate mounted a giddy food fight she eventually joined, hugging herself tightly so she didn't simply burst with the joy swelling up inside her, so full of gratitude for both of them, for a home and family at last, and for this moment in which to enjoy it all. Thanksgiving, indeed.

That night when Henry had settled into his own room and the house had grown quiet, Emma stopped Killian as he left the bathroom after brushing his teeth, biting her lip at the all-too-inviting sight of him in dark blue lounge pants with little white anchors printed on them that he wore for sleep and all that dark hair on his toned and scarred chest. He looked upon her with a curious quirk to his brow, but didn't question her, only wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his forehead to rest against her own.

Enveloped in his warmth, Emma grew almost dizzy at the minty fresh breath he exhaled against her neck and nearly lost her train of thought altogether, but she pulled out the item she had intended to show him. It was the wishbone from their turkey, and she held it out for him to see. "Do you know what this is?"

"Aye," Killian answered, though she could tell by his expression he had no clue why she would draw his attention to it. "It's some part of that fowl we prepared for tomorrow's feast, but why…"

He trailed off when she twined the fingers of her free hand with his and brought his hand up to grip the opposite end of the wishbone from the one she held. "They're for wishing on," she explained briefly, playful mirth in her eyes. "People pull them apart and whoever gets the larger piece makes a wish that is then supposed to come true."

"Alright Lass, if you say so," he agreed gamely, a bit of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth now as well.

Holding her breath, Emma thought of all the times she had wanted to do this as a kid and had never been the one who got the wishbone. Or all the times as an adult that she'd had it, but no one in her empty apartment to hold the other end, or to appreciate the wish she'd made, nor share in her joy if it did come to fruition. As the fragile bone snapped and they looked down to the pieces in their hands, Emma and Killian found it had broken almost evenly, and so she whispered, not wanting to break the calm stillness in the room, "Let's say we both wish…together."

Killian merely nodded and closed his eyes as she did. When she opened them again, it was to meet his blue, blue gaze shining back at her. She had the feeling they'd wished for the exact same thing…many more years of holidays like this.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

The blessed feeling carried over to the family dinner the next day. Sitting at the head of the long table in the dining room of a home of her very own – hers, Henry's and Killian's – the first time she'd ever had such a thing, Emma felt as though the whole scene was bathed in some sort of golden light, like she was living inside a perfect Norman Rockwell painting. The table surface was packed, crammed, overloaded with food – from the golden brown, crisp-skinned, turkey and their perfectly toasted, flaky butterhorns to Regina's apple dumplings, green beans, noodles, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. The ten-year-old foster child inside her nearly drools at the bounty, never quite able to banish the breakfasts, lunches, and dinners missed, the times she had sat alone in some cafeteria, eyes fixed on the food other students carelessly tossed in the bins which she would have loved to have while she had been packed nothing to eat and had no money to buy even a carton of milk, of the times she had gone to bed in a rickety bunk, stomach growling and unable to stop fixating on those cabinets full of snacks that were off limits. Seeing Henry to her right, ruffling his hair affectionately for just a second before he turned to grin at her proudly, clearly pleased their time spent cooking the previous evening had given them this much to show for it, she could only rejoice that he had never known such days, and the neither she nor Killian ever would again.

She gave her father a nod of confirmation where he sat at the other end of the table, leading him to grin widely, the warm look of love and happiness on his face making her feel even more that this moment right here really was all she had been missing – all she had ever wanted – all those years she spent alone. As David stood to carve the turkey and Snow alternated between beaming up at her husband proudly and passing the plates now loaded up with juicy slices of turkey down the table, Emma squeezed Killian's hand with her left, and he cut a knowing glance at her, showing clearly that he understood and felt it too.

Beside Henry sat Belle, then Snow, and across from Henry were Regina, Robin, and Roland. It would seem that their family continued to grow and warmly open to welcome into its circle anyone with nowhere else to belong on this day meant to be spent with loved ones. As she had wished for that very thing each holiday season for 28 years, Emma could think of no better nor more heroic thing for her family to do.

Once everyone had been served – both turkey and all the other dishes filling the long table – Killian stood with raised glass, even as Emma tapped her spoon against her own to garner everyone's attention for him. "A toast, mates, if I may," Killian announced jovially in that rich, enticing voice. Emma shivered slightly at the way its tones thrilled through her, though trying to give no outward sign; she would gladly listen to him read the ingredients of the box for the stuffing, but she knew everyone else was hungry and ready to dig in, so her heart swelled just that much more when the others around their table dutifully paused and turned to listen to him with genuine interest and agreement.

"I daresay I shan't keep us from this delectable feast for long," her pirate intoned, "but I have more to be grateful for this year than I have ever possessed in my ridiculously long life, and my thanks must be offered…"

He paused, meeting the eyes of each of those gathered around the table briefly, and then continued with a fervent tone which came out sounding a bit choked with emotion. "When I first arrived in this realm, still lost in my bitterness, anger, and thirst for revenge, I could not have imagined a day like this, full of peace, love, and gratitude. Emma, Love, when you offered me the chance to join you and be a part of something, and we undertook that desperate quest to Neverland, the idea that we could come to belong to each other as we do now, that you would hold my heart in your very palm, or that I would find myself with a true family again, seemed inconceivable. Yet, I am so glad you gave me that last chance, like a line thrown in the drink to a drowning man. It saved my life, turned me back around to the man I once meant to be. My thankfulness to be here with all of you today cannot be adequately expressed." He swallowed hard, dipped his head, and then took his seat again. "You have all blessed us with your presence at our table."

"Cheers!" everyone else agreed, raising their glasses to clink with each other around the table, several other eyes misty and voices husky with feeling besides their captain's. Emma blinked quite a bit herself, glancing around at their motley crew.

Her fingers reached across to trail lightly over Killian's shoulder, stroking his back soothingly for a few moments and then rising to delve playfully into the dark hair at the nape of his neck. Brushing gently through the soft strands, Emma smiled affectionately as his head inclined slightly toward her, thinking humorously that if he were a cat, her sailor would be nearly purring in contentment right now. This moment deserved to be captured – preserved – in her mind forever; she couldn't feel any more stuffed with grateful satisfaction.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

It was nearly midnight when the last of their guests had been seen to the door and out into the chilly dark of Storybrooke's nighttime streets. Henry had gone with Regina; they had a tradition of shopping, followed by decorating the mayor's mansion for Christmas, and then capping the evening off with homemade apple turnovers running over with icing on their day after Thanksgiving. Emma marveled at Henry's blithely forgiving ability to still eat the things with relish after nearly dying from one bit of just such a poisoned pastry also made by Regina long ago. Still, she couldn't deny she was also glad to have her pirate to herself this night – a true quiet moment for the two of them.

They were curled around each other on the couch in the living room, watching flames crackle merrily in the fireplace, feet up on the coffee table, each of them enjoying a sweet taste of leftover pumpkin pie.

"Open up, Darling," Killian urged, fork upraised to her lips with a piece of sticky filling and flaky crust adorned with the sweet white topping she loved. Emma really didn't need him to feed her, but she playfully went along with his gesture and hummed in pleasure when the flavors exploded on her tongue.

"Mhmm, really good," she mumbled, her mouth still full, but nodding her head and moving to get a piece on her own fork and return the favor for him.

Killian's deep, reverberating chuckle stopped her though, and he leaned forward just enough to wrap his lips around the tip of her nose, licking off the bit of whipped cream he'd gotten on her moments before. It was a mostly innocent gesture, but his proximity, the warmth of the near kiss, and the fact that they were truly – finally – alone, relaxed, and had nowhere else to be had her heart hammering triple time as she sat up quickly, unfolded her legs and pulled him up with her.

"Come on, Pirate," she spoke a little breathlessly, a devilish gleam in her eyes, "we can finish this later."

It didn't take him long to catch on and follow her eagerly, still chuckling with his hand in hers, as she picked up the can of whipped cream from the coffee table where she'd placed it earlier and hurriedly pulled him upstairs.

This last Thanksgiving rerun was originally written as a birthday gift for a shipmate; there’s a nod to a missing moment from 3x19, but then it jumps to post s6 in Storybrooke, to all of them in their happy beginnings…

“Do you mean to tell me you think you know better than a queen?” Regina’s haughty voice practically dripped disdain from each clipped, precise syllable she spoke. The perfect arch of her sculpted brow rose in question, disbelief and disapproval clear on her challenging, flawless face, even if her tone had not made her opinion more than apparent. “My mother was Rumplestiltskin’s most prized pupil; he sought me out himself to train me as well, chose me to cast his precious Dark Curse… Do you honestly think the fact that you can scare off a few monkeys with your arrows and you’ve been squatting in his deserted castle makes you a better judge of...of…” Even though she spoke the “you” as though her mouth was swallowing something foul and her face scrunched up accordingly, it seemed that the formerly Evil Queen was at a rare loss for words to express just how ridiculous the very idea was.

Unfazed, the scruffy archer gazed right back at her cheekily, seeming more than a bit amused by her ruffled feathers and inability to continue. “Not sure that is quite the distinction you’re making it out to be, Milady,” he offered with a smirk.

From across the way, Snow couldn’t seem to resist chiming in with the outlaw who had once befriended a princess on the run; who, in what now seemed like another life had helped her fine-tune her skills with a bow and advised her on spots in the forest where one could most easily hunt game to eat without encountering Regina’s guards. Though Snow had long since made the choice to put their painful and sordid history in the past, there was something that teased a warble of delighted laughter up her throat at the sight of this bandit who once graced “Wanted” posters by her side agitating Regina to the point of losing all her icy, polished reserve. “It is a bit of a dubious honor, Regina, you have to admit.”

Charming beside her dipped his head to hide the chuckle rumbling in his chest as well, reaching across their round council table’s polished surface to squeeze her hand. The shepherd-prince consort would have been lying if he refused to admit there wasn’t a part of him who enjoyed watching her Majesty flunder for her unaffected poise. It went without saying that the curse they were speaking of had ripped he and Snow apart and taken their daughter from his arms almost the moment she was born; consigning them all to 28 lonely years of misery. The truth was that plain and that simple, but he wisely held his tongue. At least since his recent pirate friend had gone off on his own after their arrival back in their land, Robin was someone to break a bit of the tension and who might lighten all of their dark and despairing moods once in a while.

As they returned to discussing the plan to raid Gold’s castle here in their home realm, knowing Zelena had holed up in the Dark One’s stronghold - with Rumplestiltskin himself still prisoner - it became clear it was really the only method they had left to try, to hope that the man who always knew so much more than anyone else would also know some way out of this mess, some way to stop Regina’s rage and envy fueled half-sister. Belle across the table looked pale and strained, her lips pressed together in a thin line but determined, needing to help in whatever way she could. Even if they couldn’t free her True Love, even if his mind were already too fractured by his near death, the half-possession that had held his son’s mind within his body as well, and then that son’s violent loss, he wouldn’t want things to continue as they were; with him under Zelena’s control and bent to her will. Belle had to cling to that truth if nothing else.

Seeming to sense her flagging spirit, Charming saw Leroy sitting next to her place a clumsily large, axe-calloused hand over her slender, tiny one and give it a reassuring squeeze. The dwarf leaned over to whisper encouragingly to the petite beauty, and the prince realized that even within his inner circle of friends and allies there were deeper friendships, and stories leading to them, that he didn’t know, as Belle’s petite frame relaxed and her tense shoulders lowered slightly at the stout little man’s clearly welcomed assurances. The former shepherd thought he just made out the kind, if gruffly voiced, words, “Hang in there, Sister, the battle ain’t over yet.” Charming smiled; that might as well be a mantra for all of them.

~~~~~~~~~****

Robin of Locksley, otherwise known in the Enchanted Forest these days by his more colorful moniker of Robin Hood, simply could not seem to help it. He knew something about him - be it his cavalier attitude towards risk and danger, his leisurely and rather lax methods of ruling over his crew (Can he help it if he’d trust them with his life and has never had cause to question their loyalty or skill?), or perhaps it was just his very form and person she objected to. Whatever the case may be, he couldn’t help goading her Majesty, rattling that posh control of which the woman seemed so proud. Behind the cool and haughty veneer Regina Mills carefully wore, he sensed something injured - fragile, even - though she would be appalled at the thought that any weakness showed, he had no doubt of that. The irony, of course, was that bit of a chink in her flawless armor was the one thing that kept him from dismissing her as another selfish, cruel royal stepping on the backs of those less fortunate to get ahead. Her tiny show of pained humanity, the loneliness hidden behind those large dark eyes, beguiled him no matter how hard he tried to resist; drew his empathy where otherwise he would have had only scorn for her past actions and the villain she had been.

They were in the Dark Castle; seemingly, hopefully, having escaped Zelena’s notice so far, but stymied by a large door into the chamber where Rumplestiltskin had to be imprisoned. They had searched the entire rest of the castle and found it empty. None of them were foolish enough, however, to assume that the fact that they had not yet seen the Wicked Witch meant that the way ahead was safe or that she had not laid hidden snares for any intruders. Particularly not if this door were the barrier beyond which she was hiding the powerful being she meant to both use and prove herself to. There had been no other closed doors until this one, after all.

With a huff of impatience, as if she couldn’t be bothered to waste another second of her time - even with safety - the former Queen reached forward, her perfectly manicured hand nearly to the golden inlaid handle despite the Princess Snow’s warnings for caution and the Lady Belle’s wise suggestion that they wait. What appeared as bold unconcern and decisiveness radiated down her spine of steel, held ramrod-straight, but there was a slight tremor in those pale fingers, one he would have missed if he hadn’t been seeking it, just before they closed around the polished metal.

Some strange shiver of foreboding knowledge borne of a life in the forest, in the shadows, constantly on the move, pursued and on the run, made some more than tangible knowledge run through him, and Robin’s limbs and muscles were reacting before his mind issued a conscious order. Knowing the proud woman plowing ahead would not heed any words he called out anyway, he had silently reached over his shoulder, pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocked it to his bow, and let it fly before another moment passed, startling Regina enough as its course whistled past her ear to make her jerk back several steps. 

The feathered missile embedded in the heavy oaken portal with the solid “thunk” of a shot ringing true, but to the horror of all, rather than remaining there, vibrating from its landing, the arrow was lost from sight as the entire door was engulfed in instantaneous flames.

Watching the blaze which would undoubtedly have devoured her as well had he allowed her to touch that door before loosing his arrow, Regina paused for mere moments before whipping around, dark eyes flashing, to arrest him angrily. “That arrow nearly took off my head!” she barked, voice as sharp as jagged glass.

Robin shot back, unable to keep himself from rising to the bait. Her lack of gratitude didn’t even surprise him by that point, but he hadn’t intended to be chastised for his quick-thinking aversion of danger either. “Where I come from a simple thank you would have sufficed.”

The regent’s black eyebrow rose in eloquent derision, making her opinion of where he came from quite clear without speaking a word. Yet, despite that hateful, snarling facade he could see the slight tremor he had previously noticed in her pale hands become a full-body quivering that, while still not plainly visible, had to be making it hard for her to remain standing, much less glaring at him with such vitriol. Her full, blood-red-painted lips trembled minutely as well until her perfect white teeth bit into the lower one, stilling it and making him swallow heavily with some reaction he couldn’t explain. She was shaken; that much he knew. But he could understand refusing to admit fear, not being able to let it show for the sake of those who follow, who must see strength to stay their course.

Thankfully, the clearly magical blaze soon expired and the way before them was as clear and unbarred as all the previous entryways they had encountered. Not without a bit of trepidation, but also as brave and determinedly as he had long since learned their hero contingent to be, Prince Charming and Snow pressed forward, followed anxiously by Belle (whom Robin’s heart panged for as she clearly ached to find the man she loved still able to recognize her and navigate his own mind) and the rest of their group. Regina just to the side, looked for all the world as if she were in no particular hurry to enter and see her former mentor, but could instead care less one way or the other. Hanging back, the outlaw of Sherwood Forest made sure the others had passed through the door and into the other room, well out of hearing, before he stepped up to Regina’s side, drawing almost nose-to-nose with her. He then leaned forward practically brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured. “There’s no need to pretend you’re made of stone, your Majesty…” He put precise emphasis on the title that she had let him know in no uncertain terms that she preferred upon their first meeting in the forest. “In fact, with the present company, I believe you might get much further by letting them see that you have doubts and fears, just as they do. I know I like you much better seeing you as more than the Evil Queen.”

At her sharp intake of air with his last pronouncement, he pulled back quickly, half expecting a slap to be stinging his skin at any moment. Instead, he found color rising hotly up her neck, her chest rising and falling strenuously in that ridiculously low-cut corseted gown, and her generally looking more flustered and affected than he had ever seen her before.

She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly for several seconds until her tart tongue seemed to return to her, then spit out a quick, “Insolent bandit,” before moving to brush past him and follow the others.

Something in Robin snapped and surged to life in answer to her challenge; not allowing her to push him aside, he grasped her upper arm firmly and held on, her back to the wall and crowding in close to her, until their breaths were mingling in the same air, their faces were so close. Even as his pulse pounded and his heart rate skyrocketed, Robin wondered what had come over him. The woman had maimed and killed, schemed and plotted for her own selfish ends, and stood for everything he had devoted himself to toppling. She was nothing like his beloved Marian had been; someone with whom he would not have imagined sharing a thing in common - and yet he couldn’t fight the pull he felt. The need to imprint upon her not to put her life at risk so needlessly again.

Sweeping forward, he dove into an all-consuming kiss, taking her mouth with his and giving no quarter, delving further instead, and swallowing the whimper and hum that escaped her throat unconsciously, despite her best attempts to remain unaffected.  

Regina’s hands grappled blindly at his biceps as if trying to steady herself. She scrabbled for solid support before helplessly melting against him, opening for his questing mouth and giving herself over to the heated embrace. When they finally broke for air, she was breathless, and he huffed out a winded chuckle himself when she managed, “Well, Thief, that really was quite pleasant… Even if you do still smell of forest.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Several realms, curses, and years later, in Storybrooke

The three men and their half dozen offspring of various ages creeping through the woods on the border of Storybrooke out near the town line are quiet and intent, completely and unabashedly focused on their prize. Up ahead, atop the small rise of a hill as the sun climbs fully into the cold, clear November morning sky, their prey struts proudly, stopping occasionally to offer its warbled call or peck at the rough ground beneath its feet. They have been tracking the large turkey for some time now, since before day fully dawned, and the time to strike has come at last.

Briefly, the thought flits through Robin’s head that this could be the same tom that had escaped himself and his Merry Men in this same forest years ago, when the hunt had been interrupted by the nightmarish interruption of a winged simian attacker and LIttle John’s subsequent transformation. To this day, the large and otherwise unflappable man stays far away from this particular section of the forest and refuses to go anywhere near the town line on foot. A quick glance at David and his preteen son to the right, then Killian and his little girl and second son to the left, gives him the hint from both men’s expressions that they are also remembering that rather ill-fated day, as bows are readied and last instructions offered.

He can only hope they will face nothing so unexpected this fine morn. The turkey before them has been promised to grace the main table of the large community Thanksgiving feast, and between the three men and their brood of adventurous junior hunters it is a matter of pride that they not return empty-handed today. Roland was promised the first unobstructed shot, and the young man, just barely a teenager but already capable and thoughtful as an adult, has already taken aim and is readying his shot to fly, much to his half-sister Margot’s displeasure as she stands just behind her big brother at Robin’s elbow. She is as untamed and mischievous as Roland is quiet and serious, and was much put out at the decision that Roland as the oldest child should get first chance, arguing rather heatedly that Roland might be biggest but she was the best shot. His blond-braided, green-attired second child is one of the best shots he’s ever seen at barely ten, but if she doesn’t learn to keep her temper and her slightly spoiled younger sibling petulance under control, he is certainly in for further trials in a few years.

Even in the few silent moments afforded him as they all hold their breaths, Rob feels the gratitude and love he has for his children, and the friends and adopted family surrounding them, surge through him with new strength. He had so very nearly left this world, numerous times over, as had the men on either side of him, and the women each of them loved. It was part of the heavy mantle they wore when standing against the Darkness in the world and fighting it back from the light and good time after time. Still, what better time than the present holiday to give thanks for the fact that they are all still standing and present to celebrate together?

Roland lets out a soft breath and then releases the arrow, just as a sharp cry rings out to the left.  His son’s aim is true, but the bird is startled from its perch just in time to have the shot glide by beneath its talons as it takes flight. David on his right is already directing Leo to adjust his aim quickly and get off a second shot, even as Robin’s eyes sweep to where Killian is righting Hope from a tumble over a jutting tree root, brushing off her dark leggings and checking her for injury as she clearly struggles to hold back embarrassed and disappointed tears.

What he hasn’t banked on is his daughter’s inability to wait her turn or hold back any longer. Quick as whip, Margot lets fly, striking the bird right as she intends and sending it toppling from the sky. Mouth falling open in surprise at her audacity and her skill in equal measure, Robin can’t help the surge of pride at his daughter’s prowess, even if he knows he should admonish her for taking Leo’s moment from him and wondering if he should be making certain Roland doesn’t feel overshadowed.  However, his eldest spares him the trouble when he whoops and claps Margot on the shoulder, crying out “You got him on the fly, Sis! Nice one!”

When the whole group converges together, he decides to let the lecture about abiding by the rules and taking turns slide for the time being upon noticing that Leo looks rather relieved that the pressure to prove his mettle before their quarry escaped has been taken off of his shoulders. Instead, he claps his little girl on the shoulder, squeezing with gentle affection until she looks up at him, beaming.  Like her brother before her, she is growing much too fast, turning into a young lady before his eyes, and so for a moment, he lets himself revel in the fact that she still wants to spend time out in the woods with him and wishes to make him proud. Her papa won’t hold the favored spot in her heart forever, so he may as well savor it while he can.

He thinks Killian’s youngest, barely old enough to be tromping around out here with them in truth, looks a bit teary at the downed and unnaturally still bird before them, so he hurries to bag their prize for the journey homeward and puts it out of sight over his shoulder while Killian picks his tired youngest up off his feet and begins asking him how many different types of trees he can recognize from their leaves on the way back. That seems a bit difficult for a five-year-old until little Liam David begins happily babbling (suitably distracted thankfully) and pointing out oaks, maples and scotch pines as the pirate’s unerring sense of direction leads their whole troupe out of the forest toward the main road where they’ve left their trucks, Margot takes his hand, and Hope her grandpa’s, and Roland and Leo fall in behind talking amiably and carrying the bows. Apparently they have a budding naturalist in their midst as well, and Killian Jones - as usual - knows exactly what he is doing.

When he, Roland, and Margot trail back into the mayoral mansion some time later, discarding their muddy boots by the door, but still scattering crumbled leaves and dirt in the entryway, Regina stands in the hall shaking her head, and directs the children toward the laundry room to discard their outerwear before heading up to wash for dinner.  She looks at him, trying to muster exasperation, but unable to do so. That flawless Queen is long gone; she has come a long way since they snapped and snarled at each other in self-preservation back in their home realm, neither wanting to fall in love and risk heartbreak again.

Snatching his jacket collar and pulling him in close, Regina nips at his lips playfully before murmuring against his scruffy cheek, “You still smell like forest,” she mocks, “but somehow you’ve managed to steal my heart.”

He shakes his head, offering back words she’d stunned him with once long ago, “That’s not quite the way I remember it.  If I recall, your heart was given to me,” he whispers, emotion taking over the jest, “and a person can’t steal what’s been given to him.”

All in all, he’s been given much more than a simple archer from Sherwood Forest could have ever hoped.

Tagging a few who may enjoy (or for whom these stories might even be new...)

@jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @laschatzi @spartanguard @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @thislassishooked @anmylica @sotangledupinit @cosette141 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @ilovemesomekillianjones @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @kday426 @scientificapricot @xarandomdreamx​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @ineffablecolors​ 

[runelocked]

WILLIAM’S  PROUD  SMILE  COULD  HAVE  FROZEN  HELL  OVER.  For  Sammy,  maybe  this  was  Hell  -  he  certainly  intended  to  make  it  so  for  the  young  boy.  His  only  witness,  physically  untouchable  because  of  the  suspicion  it  would  raise,  mentally  and  emotionally  devastated  by  just  a  minute  or  two  of  conversation.  That  odd  buzz  he’d  got  from  Charlie’s  death  is  back,  muted,  because  violence  here  is  out  of  the  question . . .  But  it  still  feels  good.  After  a  horribly  long  day,  exhausting  interviews  with  police  and  parents  and  dealing  with  a  grieving  Henry,  William  actually  feels  good  again.  Christ,  maybe  he  should  be  thanking  the  boy  for  this !

WHY  SHOULD  A  MAN  HIDE  WHEN  HE  KNOWS  HE’S  IN  CONTROL ?  For  a  minute,  he’d  been  worried,  but  he  realizes  now  that  he’d  had  nothing  to  fear.  Had  forgotten  how  wonderfully  receptive  children  could  be  to  threats  -  I  can’t  tell  him.  William  couldn’t  be  more  pleased.  Has  to  remind  himself  that  to  the  rest  of  the  world,  he  has  appearances  to  keep  up,  and  so  he  moves  closer,  trapping  the  young  boy  in  a  deceivingly  gentle  hug.  Ruffles  his  hair,  keeps  the  boy’s  wet  face  away  from  the  delicate  springlock  suit.  The  last  thing  he  needs  is  another  set  of  scars.

“ It’s  alright,  son.  It’s  alright.  I  knew  you’d  come  to  the  right  decision.  You’ve  got  to  be  strong  for  your  father,  don’t  you ?  After  all,  you’re  all  he  has  left. ”

His  hold  grows  more  restrictive,  but  his  voice  doesn’t  let  up  from  its  quiet,  mocking  solemnity.  Hopes the boy understands the threat.

“ And  if  something  happened  to  you  because you started spreading silly stories,  I  think  it  would  kill  him. “

CONTINUED. / @curseofbreadbear

[variousqueerthings]

I like how watching MASH with my mum prompts a dozen comments on breaking the hippocratic oath and medical malpractice, I would be curious where she lands on preventative medicine 

I think this unintentional on the part of the episode, but I wonder how it feels for specifically a doctor to imagine doing that

to take s2 flagg-ep into play, imagining specifically the type of doctor that hawkeye is, who seems to have very quickly cottoned onto it being easy to have the high-ground if you’re not literally in a warzone and so doing what needs to be done for his corner of the world, vs bj who likes to hold onto the trappings of normalcy past when it makes any good sense 

leaving aside anything that the episode/writers wanted to convey, and just poking at the characters, preventative episode is near the end of s7 and so around the time when the “it’s not really about the army being bad, it’s about war-as-concept being bad” stuff took over, and the tone continued to shift into bleaker -- starting s8, but I am curious to see on this watch whether I might not feel like s7 (with peace on us, which also includes army-based antics) starts it, but just creates a last Hurrah of attempts to be ok that on my first watch translated as practically a hopeful atmosphere (lol)

*

it gives enough fuel for me to go, alright, preventative medicine is when hawkeye realises he’s alone in this, and that bj -- despite some earnest attempts here and there -- simply won’t fight on the level that he needs to fight the army + he’s been gradually going up against a higher authority than the army, Death itself (whether or not one wishes to read this as a symptom of mental health issues, I do find resonance in a bipolar hawkeye + a hawkeye who was managing himself and then he up and got sent to a warzone, which is no good for anyone)

(and would Trapper and/or Henry have pulled him aside and gone “buddy, you are not beating Death, death is normal, death is ok, the army sucks, focus on the things you can change, do you wanna take out another appendix? ok, let’s do go that”)

and so essentially this episode as the first in which he really gives up. comparably I don’t think he gives up way back in dr pierce, he “just” has a breakdown -- technically he fights all the way until they sedate him (and not because they’re technically against what he’s doing, but because he Really Needs To Sleep and admirable as shipping toilets is, it’s not what hawkeye himself would think was the best solution were he not several days into insomnia)

and every once in awhile he’ll fight once more (depressing news my beloved), but it’s mostly downhill from there/the goalpost has moved to coping as best as possible -- idk how much it was intended or not, but I feel like “say no more” being so near the end, gives a good and very upsetting blow to hawkeye’s fractured needs, once more zeroing in on who it is that’s causing all the violence. not A War, but an army general, and how he’s let that focus slide in favour of getting through the damn day and pretend-believing (as I hc it) that it’s not a system made up of people that causes all this destruction 

which reframes the ending of preventative medicine as guilt not because it was futile and bad technically for him to do what he did (it wasn’t, fuck you intended framing), but because hawkeye feels a lot of guilt for all the things he can’t do -- he talks a good game about his little corner in that one episode, but like... he literally thinks he’s going up against Death at times, he’s not being entirely rational about this

*

and on bj’s side we’ve got that relentless “I’m looking towards home” narrow focus, in which one can go, ok, well a doctor back home shouldn’t take out someone’s appendix unnecessarily, or indeed, half the shit hawkeye and trapper got up to back in seasons 1-3, which one might with this read assume bj would have not been happy about?” (idk where twice convincing someone they’re very sick lands on the medical malpractice scale, I’ll have to ask my mum)

bj wants to go home unchanged, despite all the mounting impossible-to-ignore-but-he-does-try-putting-on-blinkers-and-going-lalala evidence that that is literally not gonna happen. so it’s less about hawkeye hurting himself, less about ideals, and more about keeping his hands clean and having the high-ground for the sake of his needs 

I enjoy reading bj with all his possible flaws, I think one can say that he both wishes to help hawkeye and is selfishly focused on his own life (after all he has a wife and kid at home, the american dream to return to, unlike some others...) and those clash more and more as the show goes on (I also like resentful bj personally, bj who feels indebted to hawkeye and wants desperately to be there for hawkeye with all his ideals, and dislikes that this is at odds with what he should be doing, which is keeping himself in one mental and physical piece)

he could have done more to stop hawkeye if he really believed that this was wrong and/or it would be wrong for hawkeye. or he could have acceded that hawkeye was making points, but he personally simply couldn’t do it. what he does is stick firmly to the middle path of token resistance and a refusal to carry the burden with hawkeye, and then a somewhat useless holier-than-thou platitude about symptoms and disease that just makes hawkeye feel worse, but then also a hand on his shoulder that hawkeye briefly clings to 

best he can do

*

anyway, I wonder as I continue to watch whether my mum will stick firmly to the ideals she has in a reality in which she hasn’t worked in a warzone, which will put her firmly on bj’s side, or if she’ll poke at things and imagine herself in such a situation (not that I’m trying to torture her, I’m just curious)

there’s something very interesting about doctors vs not-doctors in terms of putting themselves aside from other people in order to do their jobs sometimes, and it’s not necessarily a good thing (it’s a reason I’m scared of doctors outside of my mum and her friends, but those experiences have been firmly not like that, because we all know each other) but it does have a point to it, and the hippocratic oath is one of those things that help you set yourself apart/to a higher ideal, for better or for worse

and hawkeye has a very interestingly loose relationship with it from the get-go, and I think that that’s a much more interesting lens through which to watch preventative medicine than “is he right or is he wrong” -- instead it’s a character drama between his needs and bj’s needs

and on that note my other episode that I’m most curious about my mum’s reaction to is “heal thyself”

humanising doctors, the horror!

[lyon-amore]

What if...? Duskwood Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Because I'm writing another fanfic, I left this one, but I'm taking it back! .... Although I'm also writing another one, but for now, let's wait a bit for that one, hehe -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------       *Macie POV*  I had sent Mister Hacker a new photo of Hannah's cloud, but I hadn't received any messages. Should I go see him? I was supposed to wait for his instructions, but… 

I watch Henry eat an endive leaf, looking at me with those beady black eyes.     "Do you think it will be alright?" I ask him worried "When I quickly inspected the apartment I could see that everything seemed to be unused. Will he eat well? He doesn't look good either..."      I could not help noticing the house where he was staying, it seems that the only use is for electricity, although it is not that I have noticed the rest of the rooms either. Will it have water? Or maybe he have to use a gym bathroom to shower?  

I look at my kitchen and bite my lip wondering, should I…     "No, focus, everything is professional, I must not be the one who takes care of him."      Henry stands up, not understanding what I'm talking about. Lucky he's never going to tell.     "Although... Maybe if he eats better, he won't seem so tired..." I say to myself "I'll see what I have to prepare."      I open the fridge and look at the contents. Sure, if I hardly eat here. All I have is to make light dinners, how do I intend to prepare something good with this?     "I'm going to have to go shopping." The next day I take the taper to work with the food that I have prepared for Mister Hacker. I left it in the fridge well hidden so no one sees it, but just in case I have put my name.     "Have you brought food?" Lian asks me, rushing over to my table.     "What's the matter? It's not that weird" I shrugged my shoulders trying not to give it importance "And you're spying on me?"     "No, but I just passed by and I saw it" she crosses her arms with some papers in her hand "And? What do I need to know?"      I roll my eyes. She may not be good at being an investigator, but she knows when something is about a man in the life of any friend of hers. I don't know how she does it, it's a strange gift. But I lie better.     "I always go to eat at bars or restaurants, even the cafeteria here," I answered with a sigh. "I wanted to prepare something even just once, is it so rare?"     "I guess sometimes home cooking is better," she replies, disappointed. "I was already getting my hopes up."     "Hahaha, I'm sorry if you expected that I finally met someone-"     "Perfect then!" she exclaims with a mischievous smile "Brian's co-worker is coming to the house tonight, so…"      Oh God... She's starting. They all turn out in the end to be copies of her husband, but I can't say no to my friend. Or well, that I have a small hope that someone will become my ideal man, if she succeeded, maybe I can too.     "Okay, I'm in," she finally replied. "I'll be there at eight."     "But don't be late, okay?" She points her finger at me, almost accusatory "You know how men who work for Brian are, they hate to wait."     "When have I been late?"      This reminds me that I have yet to receive any messages since I've been here. With a ‘It does not serve as a clue’ it is enough.  While I'm working, I get a text from Thomas. I look at him without understanding. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tomas Well?  Macie Well what?  Thomas Did you look at Hannah’s pictures? Do you recognize her? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Oh, right, I remember yesterday he told me to look at Hannah's photos to see if I knew her, but really, it doesn't ring a bell at all.Not someone I've seen around Colville, Valley Of Silence, or Duskwood. I've only been to Duskwood once and it was to get my car tire changed because I got a flat, I never even set foot in town.  So, I have zero knowledge of Hannah or that she existed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Macie I really don’t know her  Thomas Oh Yes All right ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I feel a little sorry. If I really knew her, I would have said it right away. Why hide it if I'm innocent? Not even the Hacker knows why I'm involved in this.     "Ugh... Forget it, let's just focus on looking for Hannah, period." I say to myself, going back to work.   When break time finally arrives, I let the food warm, looking inside my bag. Lucky that this time I bought normal magnets... Shame... I had to think of Henry right when I bought it... I hope he forgot and don't think that I don't take it seriously, I don't get to process everything that either I’m going through like the rest of the group.   I had special heated bags to keep food warm while traveling on the bus. The least I want is for him to eat it cold. As I ride the bus, I take advantage of the fact that it's pretty empty to look for the next clue. All I can get is a photo of a cat looking at the camera, a light brown with darker stripes. Was it Hannah's cat? Doesn't look like a great clue.  I go up the stairs a little nervous because of what happened yesterday. I'm sure he thinks I'm childish now, when I take investigations seriously. Even though I hadn't done one in years... I knock on the door and wait.I see that he has another black hoodie. If it weren't for the laces, I'd think it's the same one.     "Hey, I was worried and…" I show him the bag with the food. It smells so good that even I'm hungry "I thought I could make you something to eat."     He picks up the bag and looks at it, then at me.     "Thank you, but why?" He steps aside to let me pass.     "Please, don't mind what I'm going to say, but when I came, I noticed that the kitchen is not in use, so I thought that I could be kind and prepare something for you to eat."      He leaves the bag in the small kitchen and continues to look at it.     "Have you figured it out just by looking at it?" He asks, crossing his arms. His expression is pensive, he doesn't look at me.     "Well, it's not like I’m a Sherlock Holmes, but everything is spotless," I answer, approaching him slowly "and does the town hall know that you're using these facilities?"      He arches an eyebrow without answering me which is obviously a no.     "Let me guess: If you tell me, you should kill me."     "You're the detective, figure it out for yourself," he answers, holding his breath. Do he want to laugh? "But I do eat, I have a camp stove to heat precooked food-"     "What? That's not healthy.” I try not to get excited. Now I worry more about him. "If we want to investigate, we must be energetic."     Mister Hacker looks at me surprised. I want to take this investigation seriously and I don't want any of us to feel bad. I'll do my best so we can both focus.     "As you please," he sighs, and his distant eyes are back. Sorry I didn't get back to you earlier" he returns to the computer, keeping his eyes on the screens "Discovery number three?"     “Discovery number three."      I get going pulling out the new magnets, swapping them with the new ones, adding new information from Jessy and Thomas's suspicion of me when he showed me the photos. I'm still missing Dan, Lilly and Richy. I haven't talked to them yet.     "Hm…" I hear him make a throaty noise. I look over my shoulder and his serious expression makes me nervous. Not in a bad way— I will to extract useful information from these pictures."     "Like what?" I close the marker and leave it on the board, turning around and approaching the table, crossing my arms curiously.     "Metadata: Where were these pictures taken, when did Hannah load them into her cloud and so on." Well, that work looks perfect on him… Am I making a strange face while he talks? I really like the tone of his voice. He seems like he knows what he's talking about. "The more I know, the better." he sits up in his chair, holding up a finger like a professor explaining "Give me some time. One more thing" he starts typing on the computer and I receive a message from him. An ID: 47013 "The police are currently focused on Thomas, Hannah's boyfriend. You should focus on someone else."

I look at the number and then at him.     "What do I do with the ID?" I ask, trying to get information out.     "Add it as a contact. You will find the input field in the top roght corner of the message overview" I thought it would tell me who he was from. What a pity.      He returns to his screen, falling silent.     "Well, let's go..." I whispered, sitting me down at the desk. Mister Hacker looks at me and I look back at him "There is no other chair, or do you want me to sit on your lap?"     "No." he answers quickly. "I guess you'll have to bring a chair too…"     "Yeah, it'll be for the best if you don't want me on your desk sitting like an ornament."       He exhales, as if he had laughed. I smile hearing him laugh, even a little.  I decide to enter the ID, receiving Dan's chat. Right away he talks to me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dan Oh no No no no  Macie I was told to add you  Dan Huh? Who sent you after me? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I look at Mister Hacker before answering.     "I think I'm going to be honest with him," I announce "I think that in this case it's not the time to cause problems."     "As you please…" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Macie This ‘’Hacker’’  Dan Well Fuck it I don’t care Screw them And you leave me alone ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I stare at the screen surprised, have I done something to make him treat me like this?     ”And that attitude? We're just trying to help.” I commented quietly, a little annoyed.      I see that after a few seconds he is going to talk to Jessy about what I have written to him. It seems that Jessy is on my side from the way she writes to him.  I can somewhat understand his reaction. The truth is that it bothers you to be added. When Thomas did it, I thought it might be a practical joke. I must not get excited, I must keep a cool head in this situation and understand it.  A few seconds later, I receive a call from a stranger. I doubt whether to answer or not, but I think it must be important. So I answered. At first, heavy breathing is heard, but it speaks in a distorted voice.     "Are you scared? I can see you…" I've never received a call like this before, I get nervous. How come the kidnapper has my number?      I look at the Hacker who is concentrating on the computer. He couldn’t be the one to call me, unless he is handling the call from the computer, right? But I don't want to believe that, it would be ridiculous since we are investigating together, why do this to me? It would have been easier to have kidnapped me from the beginning.     "Do you want me get you?" A shiver runs down my spine. It's a threat "Stay out of other people affairs."     "Hey, are you here?" I ask, waking him from his computer concentration. I'm worried about what just happened.      It had happened shortly after I saw Jessy and Dan's chat, but it's too much of a coincidence that it's Dan who called me, angry that I added him to the chat.     "Yes" he looks up from the computer "Did you find anything out?"      I look at my phone, terrified.     "I… I got a threatening call." I answered, still not taking my eyes off the screen.     "A threatening call?" From Mister Hacker's voice, he sounds more excited than worried. He gets up from the table, rushing over. His emotion doesn't help my worry "Macie, that was probably the kidnapper.” I look up at him and see how his emotion fades from his face when he sees me. It was one thing to investigate and quite another to be threatened. I see how he calms down little by little, showing an already more compassionate look "What did he say?"     I try to compose myself a bit, I can't be like this if I want to help. I take a deep breath and answer.     "That I should stay out other peoples affairs."     "And what did he sound like?"      I start thinking about what the voice sounded like. Only one example occurs to me.     "Do you know Darth Vader?"      His surprised look makes me calm down even more. I hope the example didn't sound too ridiculous, I can't think of another.     "Hmm…"      I see how he start to think. With a voice distorter, we can't do much.     "Now what?" I put my phone in the pocket of my sweatshirt, waiting for an answer.     "Now we’ll go on as before," he replies, returning to the desk and leaning on it. "This is a very positive incident."      I analyze his words, understanding him. A hijacker would not threaten for no reason. It means we're close to something pretty big.     "I think I know where you heading," I says, leaning against the wall as I consider the kidnapper's words now.     "Keep going." the Hacker smiles at me.     "He is afraid of me."     "Exactly." He breaks away from the table and starts pacing the room as I add Dan to the board along with the rest of his friends. I finally had him. I only need Richy and Lilly. The only sounds in the room are his footsteps and the click of the marker. "And that's why he’s leaving his hiding place. His safehouse. That makes him vulnerable." I stop writing and he walks, looking at me with a satisfying smile. "This is a great opportunity for us."      The sparkle in his eyes seems to be excited. Yes, it is true that it is something good, that means that it is someone who is aware of what I am doing, someone who could possibly know me, but of course... That doesn’t mean that I have not been threatened.     "I hope you're right." I replied, hugging myself.     "We are hard on his heels." The way he talks about it seems too confident, but it's then that he looks at me, as if something had clicked in his mind. "You can't trust anyone in this group" he points to the board, in an angry tone "Not a single one!"      I look at the board: Jessy, Cleo, Thomas, Dan… At the moment there is still more information to be obtained. But... Is there a reason why I don't trust anyone? Does he know something but he can't pin it down?     "Do you already suspect someone?" I ask curious. He's the one who's been watching the group, he must know better than me.      His green eyes seem doubtful, as if he doesn't want to tell me. But in the end he speaks.     "Yes." My breath hitches for a second, waiting for something else. "But I don't want to influence you too much.” I roll my eyes. I wouldn't cloud it, the more information, the more help I could have. "That's why I wouldn't ask you to tell me you suspicion if you already had one."     "Right, there's still a lot of evidence to get." I turn to look at the blackboard, crossing my arms. It wasn't even complete yet.     "We need to be careful with any accusations at this stage." He stands next to me and we both look at each other at the same time. "You have done very well so far. I was right about you."      I smile at him proud to hear those words. A slight blush appears on her cheeks, which gradually spreads over her entire face. He clears his throat and walks away from her.     "We’re gonna save Hannah!" he exclaims, returning to his computer.     "You're too confident in my abilities." I commented, pulling myself closer again and sitting down at the desk.     "You've found out that I don't use my kitchen," he lets out a slack laugh "you have a good deduction."     "You don't have to have a good deduction to see that it's not being used." I wave my hand toward the kitchen. "If this is the kitchen, I don't want to know how the bathroom is."     "Tell me you're not going to start cleaning it?"     "Why? Don't you use it?" I asked, making a surprised sound.     "If you're wondering if I can afford to shower long hours like a high-class person, no, I can't."     "Because they would suspect that someone lives illegally on this apartment."     "Precise.     << Well, luckily he takes care of himself. Although from the face he has, it doesn't seem like he's resting well…>>       My cell phone alarm rings. It's time for me to go back to work. I sigh turning it off. Back to the real world. To put it that way.     "Are you leaving?" he asks me, looking up from the screen.     "Yeah, why do you ask? Do you want me to stay longer?" I asked with a smile.     "No, I think that's all for today."     "Okay." I get up from the table grabbing my bag. "Next time I'll bring the chair, signed up for the list. Do you want me to prepare something special for you tomorrow?"     "Macie, I really-"     "I don't mind, seriously," I smiled kindly, "what do you want?"     "I…" his green eyes seem to shine "I'll think of something."     "Okay- oh! Not! I just remembered that I'm meeting tonight," I hit my forehead, remembering the promise I made to Lian "Don't you care that it's the day after tomorrow? I promise I'll make you something to eat."       Mister Hacker sighs tiredly. I hope it doesn't overwhelm him.     "Don't worry, you can cook whenever you want," he finally answers. "You already know that I-"     "You can take care of yourself," I leads me to the door, thinking about the blind date tonight. I hope it goes well "Wish me luck, maybe today I will meet the man of my dreams."     "Poor him with someone as bossy as you." he jokes, or so I think.     "Yeah, very funny," I reply, rolling my eyes. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Hacker.” I wave goodbye and leave the apartment.      It's like coming out of a portal to another dimension. On that apartament is the old Macie, the one who enjoyed mysteries. Outside of it, it's the one she leads a completely ordinary life, the one she keeps quiet about letting others walk all over her.  I feel like I love the other dimension. I really liked it when he praised me.     “Ah… My cheeks are burning,” I say to myself, with a small laugh. *Jake POV*  When she leaves the apartment, I get up to get the food she has prepared for me.Inside it has bags that are heated for when some part of the body hurts, it seems that it has found another use for it to keep food warm. She even left a couple of cutlery for me.  I take out the taper and when I open it, a delicious smell comes to me. I taste a bit, it's starting to get cold, I'll have to warm it up.     "It's still good." I tell myself, as a smile escapes me.       As I let the camp stove heat it up, I play with the rabbit magnet I picked up yesterday, tossing it into the air and catching it. I don't know why, but I kept it as a distraction.     "Her face  when he called her..." I try to remember her scared expression. I don't remember the last time I saw an expression like that, I felt bad for being excited for a second because of that call.. For some reason, I've felt the feeling of protecting her "No, it's wrong. Besides, she's here, not in Duskwood. Nothing will happen to her, I don't have to worry about this."  I finish heating the food and begin to feed myself. Yes, it's delicious. It had been a long time since I had eaten something this good. What you have to eat precooked food.     "So…A date…" I murmured, looking at the magnet, as if he represented her. "It shouldn't bother me, it's her private life."      That's when I fall for something.     "Wait a minute, the rule that she had to let me know if she was coming or not has been broken." I say annoyed.      In the end, I end up smiling without realizing it.  It had been nice to see her by surprise. Chapter 4 

[lostonehero]

Another livestream

Corpse Micheal fun time

The hospital wing was covered in various decorations for all different holidays and celebrations. A little boy was hobbling around on one leg, giggling and waving. "Hi, I'm Lucas."

A little girl waves at the man holding the camera, as a male nurse picks her up. "Wait, mister Jeremy, I wanna be in the video."

"Vicky, the livestream hasn't started yet, and you're on bedrest. Micheal will come by alright." Jeremy smiles. "You don't want to pop those new stitches."

"Ugh, fine." Vicky huffs.

Micheal chuckles watching the interaction. "I'm surprised you never had kids."

"Well, I'm not, legally can't adopt, and never found a woman I liked enough." Jeremy puts her in her hospital bed. "Ain't that right, Vicky? I'll make a bad dad."

"Can you be my dad?" Vicky looks up at Jeremy. "I like your scar, and you're nice."

"You already have a dad." Jeremy chuckles.

"I can have two dads." Vicky puffs out her cheeks.

Micheal snickers. "Hospital dad."

Jeremy sighs. "Don't encourage them, Micheal. Besides, where's your uncle?"

"He's already inside. For a man in his 70s, he's quite good at getting past you." Micheal grins under his mask. "He's setting up the equipment because he insisted he wanted to help, and I can't exactly stop him. Oh, right. Aunt Jen and her son are coming by as well."

......

The camera switched on, and the sound of children giggles are heard. "Alright, everyone, quiet the stream has started." The kids only giggle louder as Micheal smiles. "Ok, well, I did promise I would do another charity stream, and include the hospital the money is going to. However, all the kids here are in treatment, and their parents allowed them to join the stream before anyone throws a hissyfit. Jeremy is on shift, so you'll see him come in and out helping the kids and joining every so often."

Micheal shifts and takes off his mask to a lot of oos and aws from the children. "Now I'm not alone here besides the kids." The kids wave as the camera pans. "My Aunt Jen is here, which I know you guys have been asking for." The camera pans to an old woman with a cane that Henry was working on before. She looks as if she could pass for 50. She has a pixie cut and a soft frown on her lips.

Jen waves her accent this thick as she doesn't hide it. "Can't say it's the worst thing I've been in, and the kids are nice."

"Ma, be nice." A raven haired man with white streaks in his hair leans over to speak to her. His voice is also accented and deep.

"The raven haired man is her son Gareth. I hope you'll enjoy the section he's in because I won't." Micheal sighs. "Next, my uncle is also here." The camera pans to Henry, who was finishing a little toy train.

"Now besides them, the kids around me are allowed to ask questions whenever they like, and tell us if it's too much and they can go somewhere quiet. We won't force them to do anything they are uncomfortable with." Micheal hums. "So, with introductions out of the way, let's begin."

One of the kids immediately raise their hands

She was missing her legs and had a tooth gap. "Hey I have a question!"

Micheal chuckles softly. "Ok, what's your question."

"Not for you, corpse, man." The girl huffs and points to Jen. "Miss, did you lose your hair? Is that why it's so short?"

Jen smiles. "Ah little brat, I did not intend. I just prefer my hair short. Now I know your little friends here are different, but I don't mind having short hair."

"Could I have short hair too?" The girls gasps. "I didn't know girls were allowed to have short hair without being sick."

Jen chuckles and gets up, walking over to her. "Yeah, girls can have short hair. I suppose I do recall a time when Micheal over there had long hair."

The girl's eyes widen. "Nuh, uh." She reaches out and holds Jen's hand. "I'm Brit, Miss Jen."

"Hello Brit, and yes, boys can have long hair just as girls can have short hair. Now, how long are you stuck in this joint." Jen hums patting the girl's hand.

"I'm getting new legs, then I'm out of here." Brit giggles. "Nurse Jeremy makes the hospital fun, and you're really cool."

"Hey, no hogging I want to talk to her too!" A boy next to her bed huffs. His skin was sickly pale, and he had bloodshot eyes. "She's like, wonder woman, look at how strong she is."

Gareth can't help but smile.

"Alright, no fighting the lot of ya. I can answer any and all questions you brat." Jen smirks. "Now, what do you want to know?"

"Jen be nicer to the children." Henry sighs, putting the train down.

"Shut your mouth, Hen. I ain't gonna to coddle these kids. They ain't made of glass." Jen crosses her arms.

"You talk funny. I like that." A different boy speaks up.

The pale boy smiles softly. "I like you." He coughs a bit. "Where do you work?"

Micheal smiles, please, that his aunt has taken over.

Jen hums. "Well, I used to work on a farm, then a woman's shelter, and currently, I work in reception for my son. Don't give me that look, Gareth. I ain't retiring till I'm six feet under."

"Are you mister Henry's sister?" A little girl speaks up she had a tutu on and was maybe five hooked up to various machines and tubes.

"Of course I am, I'm older than him by two years. He was a little troublemaker when he was younger." Jen smiles as the little girl giggles.

Henry huffs. "I wasn't that bad."

"You were I can give examples." Jen smirks.

"Ooo, I wanna hear that." Jeremy chuckles, making himself known. "Anyway, sorry to interrupt. I'm here to take Miss Jess to her chemo treatment."

The little girl hooked up to machines huffs. "No fair. I wanna hear stories."

"How about I tell you stories about Micheal and I growing up?" Jeremy smiles as the little girl perks up.

"Promise?" She looks up.

Jeremy nods. "Come on, little one, I'll tell you a special one."

"Jeremy..." Micheal sighs.

Jen frowns slightly, watching Jess leave. She nearly forgot what wing they were in.

"Miss Jen?" A teenage boy speaks up probably one of the oldest kids here. He had a scowl on his lips and was missing an arm. "Are you some sort of carpet muncher?"

Gareth covers his face in shock.

Jen smirks and walks over to the teen. "Eh, I'm not one for labels, you little brat. Try to refrain from those questions. I don't want you making my son have an aneurysm." She chuckles. "I've been with all sorts of people, but I can say the same about Hen." She grins, watching her brother squirm. "Now, what's your actual question?"

The teen rolls his eyes. "What, you've got some tough girl act? You might fool these brats but not me."

Jen sighs. "You remind me of Hen growing up, but he was smart enough not to talk back to me. Just because you're stuck here doesn't give you a free pass to be a little bitch."

The teens' eyes widen, and he smirks. "You've git no bedside manner."

"Nah, too old to give a shit for that." Jen smirks, ruffling the kids' hair. "Anyone have an actual question besides this entitled brat."

The teen has a small smile on his lips.

.......

Gareth sits in front of Micheal. He had a pen and paper in his hands. "Are you sure you want this to be live streamed and with an audience?"

Micheal shrugs. "I mean, it's not as if I can travel to your actual office." He shifts and sighs. "Besides, I know for a fact, you've been itching for this. I probably need more than one session or whatever, but I might as well start now." He moves his gaze to Jeremy. "Do you have to be here?"

"First, I'm on my lunch hour. Second, you've needed therapy since you were 13. Also, I'm here for moral support." Jeremy grins and waves.

Micheal sighs. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, let's just start."

"Well, where would you like to begin Mike?" Gareth hums, clicking his pen. "Now, this is only our first session, so we don't have to talk about anything that is too much."

Micheal crossed his arms. "I suppose I can start with my body. I'm not a fan of it, obviously. I don't like that I can barely feel anything, and the fact I'm more other materials than my actual flesh and bones. I'm stuck like this till who knows when, and I can't exactly destroy myself because then I might end up like the other kids stuck possessing something. I really don't want to be stuck in an animontric." He pauses, pulling his face mask down. "Sorry, Uncle Henry."

Henry chuckles. "Don't apologize to me, kid. I don't blame you."

Gareth hums, scribbling something down. "Would it make you feel better to put flesh color fabric to replace your purple rot?"

Micheal shifts and shakes his head. "I tried that. For some reason, the purple spreads to the new fabric or leather I use. I got tired of constantly trying to replace it, so I just use purple." He hums. "But I am able to use different color strings for stitching for some reason that doesn't count. I don't really have much, probably with replacing my skin it just freaks me out that I can feel things on the replaced skin."

Gareth hums and nods. "Fascinating. I know this is gruesome, but have you've tried stitching replacement organs to see if they would do the same as the flesh you replace. Now I'm saying it will do much of anything, but it could help with an empty feeling inside."

"I've never thought to try that." Micheal frowns, messing with his gloves. "I think I want to try that. I never thought to replace what was taken out. Jeremy, if you suggest I replace my privates with a crochet dick I'm going to strangle you."

"I was going to say dildo but whatever your idea is funnier." Jeremy snickers.

Micheal groans. "Forget I said anything." He actually seems relaxed for once. "Well, I mean, I do tend to keep things inside of my pocket for that reason. Maybe the fake organs would help me feel a bit more normal."

Gareth notices the shift in Micheal, thanks to Jeremy almost immediately, and he gives a small smile. "I would love an update after you do that. I will refrain from asking more serious questions due to the children around us." He smiles as a few kids try to cover their face. "However, I must ask before this session ends. When you do see your father again, what do you plan on doing?"

Jen stops Henry from saying anything. "Hush Hen."

Micheal mulls over the question. "I suppose I would want to ask why? But honestly, I've made my peace with most things. I'm more upset with my mother over my father. Mother always tried to poison me or put glass in my sandwiches. Father did do the bare minimum, but he actually kind of cared about me. Besides, Uncle Henry deserves the closure more than I do, well probably not closure but a conversation." He chuckles. "I want to hear him sputter and gasp seeing me like this. However, I do know the timeline of what happened, and it's my sister's death that started the whole thing. Therapy probably would have stopped Charlie's death, or I mean, if my father just talked to Uncle Henry, it could have solved a few things. Now I'm just theorizing what ifs."

Gareth nods. "Well, I'm glad you've overcome a lot, and I expect to continue this. I know you don't sleep, and I have your number. I will keep on contact with Jeremy to make sure you continue this."

"Now wait, I have a question for you. Why don't you help Uncle Henry?" Micheal crossed his arms.

"Because Uncle Henry is a master of avoiding any subject that will dig out any emotion. It's honestly like talking to a wall." Gareth turns to look at his uncle. "It also doesn't help that you continue to treat me like a child when I try to help."

"Boy, I was there when you were born, I have every right to baby you." Henry huffs. "Besides your my nephew, I wouldn't want to burden you with my feelings."

Gareth pinches his brow. "I am trained to help." He sighs.

Micheal snickers, putting his mask back on. "As I said before, if they both just talked."

Gareth groans and waves Micheal off. "That's enough for now. I need a drink."

"I can get you some coffee." Jeremy hums.

"That's not the drink I was referring to, but I'll accept that." Gareth sighs getting up.

......

One of the smaller girls sits in Henry's lap. "Mr. Uncle Henry, why was your daughter named Charlie? That's not a girl name."

Henry chuckles. "Charlie was her nickname. Her name was Charlotte, but she preferred Charlie."

"Oh..." the little girl pauses. "Can I meet her when I leave? Mommy and Daddy say I'm going to leave soon."

Henry frowns. "Don't say that you will get better."

Jeremy makes a face. "Mr. Emily, she's terminal."

"Yeah, what, Mr. Jeremy said. I wanna meet Charlie and tell her about you. I wanna tell her that's you're very nice and that you miss her."

Henry takes a breath. "You're allowed to visit her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind a new friend. Thank you for being kind."

The little girl yawns. "Thank you, you're very nice."

Jeremy takes her. "It's time for bed, little one. Did you like your gift?"

"I did, Mr. Uncle Emily is very nice." The little girl falls asleep.

Jeremy smiles. "Thank you for this, Mr. Emily, and don't worry, livestream people. She isn't in any pain, and her parents wanted her to enjoy today and the stream she likes Micheal a lot. Now, for something more happy than dying kids, more questions from the other kids."

Micheal pats his uncle's back. "It's ok. She doesn't know Charlie is stuck in the puppet."

Henry nods. "Is it bad that she's in my basement?"

"No, she's safe and can't hurt anyone by accident." Micheal smiles softly. "Alright, everyone, it's question time."

The kids cheer.

[hawkinsgsa]

@metiered​ // vol2/post season 4 starter call.

   WILL HAS FOUND HIMSELF FACING multiple earth-shattering truths upon the return to Hawkins— they knew, sort of. A VAGUE IDEA of the sort of harrowing events going on in his home town, but nothing hits quite as hard as arriving there... witnessing the damage from what they’re all somehow calling an ‘earthquake’ ( Will hardly understands how they’re kidding themselves still, but he supposes some things never change ). The unsettling, evil presence still buzzes underneath his skin, WARNING him of horrible danger to come... there isn’t much they can do in the meantime. Besides help, besides rebuild. 

    Though Will has spent most of his time in the cabin or the hospital... he visits a more populated area now. They told him of the makeshift shelter formed at the school, so here he is, carrying a box of donated first aid supplies to whatever corner they pointed him towards and LOST in his thoughts.... until the bump!— “OH— uh, I... sorry-” Will breathes, having jumped from the sudden contact. “I didn’t... see you— I was zoning out, my fault... are you okay?” Will thinks he might recognize him, from before, when he still lived in a town where everyone knew everyone... they all knew who HE was. Does everyone here still look at him like that?

[taleasnewastime]

What if I love you too much?

Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: fluff; angst; smut; single mum reader

Word count: 20.6k

Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood.

Additional Drabbles!

Authors Note: Happy Saturday! Hope you’re having a nice weekend so far :) 

“Ask him to mow your lawn.”

“What? Rosie, why would I –”

“Because look at your lawn, Y/N,” she twists to look at you with a flat face before looking back out your front window with dreamy eyes. “And then look at him.”

You look at the man in question, every glistening, no-tee-shirt-on, tattooed sleeved, square inch of him. Ok, so maybe you get her point a little. Still, you’re not about agree with her.

“I can mow,” you defend yourself instead. “And my lawns not that bad.”

“But can you mow like him?”

“Anyone can mow like him. He’s literally just going up and down the grass.”

“Y/N. Please. Just look at that body.”

“I thought you wanted me to look at his mowing.”

You catch her rolling her eyes as you twist to sit properly on your sofa, no longer wanting to objectify your new neighbour. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re already ogling at the beads of sweat that roll down the many abs he’s sporting. The feminist in you is ashamed.

“Then ask for some sugar,” Rosie continues, still looking out the window. “Or bake him some cakes to properly welcome him to the street, or I don’t know ask him to look after Zac.”

“Oh yeah, because that’s the way to any man’s heart. Please can you look after my four-year-old child?”

“Alright,” Rosie huffs, finally giving in and twisting to sit by you. “I was just brainstorming.”

“Well, thanks but no thanks.”

You stand, try to focus on the reason you came into the room in the first place. Before you spotted your new neighbour mowing topless you were cleaning the mess Zac, your four-year-old son, had left before he bulldozed his way into the garden. You love your son: he’s cute, caring, behaves and will happily entertain himself when you’re busy, but he has so much energy that sometimes he’s like a little tornado. You’re always cleaning up in his leave.

“You need to introduce yourself at some point,” Rosie continues, her voice taking on a more innocent tone, but you still know her game.

“He’s my neighbour –”

“Exactly.”

“– I don’t talk to all my neighbours. We’ll probably just smile if we happen to get out our cars at the same time.”

Rosie heaves a sigh as if you’re being utterly unreasonable. “You’re impossible.”

“You make it sound like I haven’t been with a man since Henry,” you’re still cramming toys into the plastic box you keep hidden behind the sofa when you say the name of Zac’s dad so miss the annoyed look that crossed Rosie’s face.

“Remind me who again?”

You stand up straight, twist to frown at her. Really?

“And don’t say Cam. We all know that was just a glorified blow job.”

You heat, shake your head as your frown deepens. You tell her everything but sometimes wonder if you should leave certain details out.

“There was Paul,” you begin but are put off by the look Rosie gives you. Ok, maybe she’s right, Paul was the IT guy at work that took you on two dates, the furthest you got was a kiss on your doorstep. “Urm, ok, fine. Though, dating a man is still being with him. But fine, what about Aaron?”

“Arrogant Aaron. That’s one.”

You don’t comment on the nickname, though she may have a point, you have bigger things to think about, your brain churning through the last four years to find any semblance of a relationship that will get Rosie off your back.

“James. One night, but it was good.”

“We’re up to two,” she says in a tone that implies you’re not doing well and need to improve.

“Ryan,” you almost shout the name at her when it pops into your head.

“Was Ryan really after Zac?”

“Yep, I remember Zac waking up screaming right when he was about to –”

“Auntie Roo,” you’re cut off by said screaming child.

Your lips seal shut, you both go stiff, if Zac wasn’t four, you’d both look incredibly guilty. Luckily he isn’t old enough to question it. Instead he does a light jump up and down in front of Rosie, eyes wide and smile broad.

“Please can you play?” The words are a little slurred together in his rush to get them out, some of the letters still not properly forming so when you’re with strangers you have to interpret for him. Rosie is fluent in four-year-old speak and the sentence was clear enough for you both to understand.

“Shall we play out front?”

You shoot daggers at the top of her head. She only smiles.

“But, I wanna play with Baby Boe.”

“Fine,” Rosie says still chipper, she stands to her full height rolling her eyes at you. “There’s at least no mistaking he’s yours.”

You give her a sarcastic smile as she twists and follows your son into the garden, Zac babbling on about something unintelligible, Rosie humming along as if fully engaged. You watch them disappear before going back to the task at hand, shoving the last toys into the box you collapse onto the sofa, happy to have even a minute of quiet to yourself.

Closing your eyes you can hear Rosie and Zac playing house in the back garden with his toy dog, Baby Boe. But there’s also that mechanical sound from earlier. You try to ignore it, but now alone you find it hard. Sitting up straight you make sure you truly are alone before twisting and looking over the back of the sofa.

Your neighbour is still there, on the last strip of grass now. You watch as he finishes, stops the lawn mower and then sweeps a hand through his hair. It makes his abs stretch and his arms flex. It only entrances you more. Rosie is right, he’s hot as hell, but what she doesn’t realise is that you don’t need that in your life. Sex is great, and though you’ve only had a few ‘relationships’ since Zac, there have been enough for you to know that however big the payoff may be, it’s never big enough.

You guess you’ll just have to appreciate the view with this one.

You feel sweaty and tired but unfortunately your son is a bundle of never-ending energy, so here you are kicking a ball around your garden in the baking sun with Zac.

He’s giggling as you half force a smile on your face. It’s not that you’re not having a good time, you love time with your son, it’s more that you’ve been kicking this same ball around for nearing half an hour now. Anytime you’ve suggested doing something else Zac has had a near meltdown. It’s better to play along with it sometimes.

Zac hits the ball towards you, trying to get it between the section of fence you pretend to defend. You leap the wrong way letting the ball hit the fence with a bang.

“And he scores!” You cheer.

Zac screams, hands in the air he does a little running celebration, one he’s done after scoring every goal so far. It still makes you smile.

“What does that make it now, Zac?”

“One million!”

You laugh, fetching the ball and lightly kicking it in his direction.

“Come on then, let’s make it one million and one.”

Zac continues to giggle and run around the garden a little before running at the ball. You can see it’s a bad idea before he even kicks it but are too late to say anything. Zac’s foot hits the ball and it goes shooting towards you. You duck, cover your face with your hands on instinct. But the ball goes over you and the fence.

There’s a beat of silence before Zac realises what he’s done.

“Oh dear,” you say gently, already trying to do damage control.

Zac looks from the top of the fence to your face, his eyes wide with shock.

“It’s ok, we have another ball,” you say.

“But I want my ball,” his eyes are welling up, his bottom lip pouting out.

You try not to sigh and make the situation worse. Instead you go over to the house and pick up one of the other balls. It looks exactly the same, yet Zac doesn’t look impressed.

“This is your ball, Zac,” you try to fill your voice with excitement rather than annoyance. “This one is just as fun. Look.”

You bounce it on the floor before softly kicking towards him. Even you’d admit you don’t do a very convincing job at showing how great the ball is and judging by Zac’s tearful frown, he hasn’t been sold on your pitch either.

“Ok,” you sigh, Zac still looking tearful. “We can go knock next door and ask for it back, but he may not be in and then we’re not allowed to just go around and get it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not our house, is it?”

“But it’s my ball.”

“Yes, but we still have to ask nicely for it back, don’t we?” You don’t wait for a response to that rhetorical question, just continue to plough on. “Come on then.”

You hold your hand out and are rewarded with a smaller one placed in it. You head to your side gate, trying and failing to think about what you’re about to do and who you’re about to meet. He’s just a man. Really nothing to stress about. But having Rosie’s words in your head makes it feel like meeting him is something it’s not.

“You have to ask him Zac. So, what do you say?”

There’s a second’s pause filled with the grinding of your gate on the pavement. You look down at Zac when you’re out front and can see his brain working a mile a minute trying to work out the answer to your question.

“You say: I accidentally kicked my ball into your garden. Please can I have it back?”

“I accidentally kick my ball. Please can I have it?” He messes up the pronunciation of accidentally, it’s cute.

“Kicked it into your garden,” you correct as you approach your neighbour’s door.

“I kicked my ball in your garden. Can I have it?”

“Please,” you remind him gently before looking down at him.

He whispers the word back at you, now stood in front of the man’s door he looks a little less sure about the situation. Still, however much you’re also dreading this you’re going to do. it You need to have the confidence for both of you.

You take a breath before looking up and pressing the doorbell. There’s silence as you wait, neither you nor Zac saying anything.

Then the door’s clicking and being pulled open and then there he is. On a slight step above you, you have to look up a little to take in the wide smile he’s showing you. He’s got on a large white t-shirt, baggy black trousers and yet, even though he’s completely covered compared to when you saw him mowing his lawn and the top is not giving you even a hint of what lies beneath, you still feel flustered by his presence.

“Hello,” he says, eyes flicking between you and Zac, smile on his lips but a question in his eyes.

“Hi,” you squeak back, voice too high. “I’m Y/N and this is Zac. We’re your neighbours and uh, Zac here wants to ask you something.”

Both your eyes go down to your little boy who’s now clinging to your leg. He looks up at you unsure, his eyes quickly going to the man and then back to you. Your heart melts.

“Come on Zac,” you say in a far softer tone, your hand going to brush the back of his head. “Can you remember what we said?”

He mutters something that you can’t make out, his lips hardly moving, his eyes on the ground. Still, you look at the man to see his reaction. You’re surprised when you find him leaning in and down towards your son as if to better pick up on what he’s saying. Your heart does something funny and you have to mentally slap yourself to refocus.

“You’ve got to speak a little louder baby.”

Zac addresses you when he says, “Please can I have my ball?”

Well, at least it was louder and he used the word please. But it’s no surprise when you look at the man and he’s looking at you nonplus.

“Zac accidentally kicked his ball into your garden. We were wondering if we could go get it back?”

“Please,” Zac pipes in and while you flush the man seems to light up from within, a mixture of amusement and utter joy at your son embarrassing you.

“Yes, that’s right Zac,” you manage to keep your voice steady. “Please can we have our ball back?”

“Of course,” the man replies, looking between you both. “Why don’t I open up the side gate and you can go find it Zac?”

You look at Zac and he looks back at you unsure what to reply. You give a little nod of your head for encouragement and are rewarded with him looking back at the man and repeating your gesture.

“Give me a sec then,” the man says, standing back straight. “I need to do the bolt from the other side. Why don’t you go wait for me over there?”

You both look to where he points, the gate in question. Zac, now less nervous around the man starts without you. Glancing back at the man to be met with another smile, you swallow before following Zac.

It only takes a second for the gate to grind open. The ally is much like yours, concrete slabs leading down the side of his house to the green of his garden. The man stood in your way bends to look at Zac.

“Why don’t you go run in and have a look? See if you can find your ball in all my long grass?”

This time he needs no encouragement from you. It seems the man has gained his trust in the few minutes you’ve been in his presence. You feel him slip away from you and then watch as he runs down the ally into the garden, leaving you and the man alone. You scramble for words to fill the silence to make it less awkward, hope it doesn’t take Zac long to come back to you.

“Sorry about this,” your eyes flick to the mans which are already on you. “I promise there’s not normally balls flying over the fence.”

“Doesn’t matter if they do,” he replies with a small smile.

Ok. That’s that topic exhausted then with no sign of Zac coming back.

“You enjoying the new house?”

He flicks his head to the side to look at the house in question as if to remember before looking back at you. “Yeah, it’s a great neighbourhood. House needs a lot of work, but I’ll get there.”

“Ah, yeah. I can’t imagine Lindsey and Ron having the same interior style as you.”

“You could say it’s a bit dated for me.”

You giggle, actually laugh at the words as if they’re some amazing joke. It’s more trying to picture this man, this big, buff, man with such a pretty smile living in a house that was previously occupied by two seventy years olds that you don’t think decorated since they moved in forty years ago.

You cut the laugh off short when you realise how odd you must look. The man’s smiling back at you, a different smile to any you’ve seen so far, one you’re sure is him questioning your sanity and who he’s living next to. You cough, shift your weight from foot to foot as you peak over his shoulder praying for Zac to hurry up.

“Well, you’ve certainly managed to tame the front garden.”

“Just the floral carpets to go then,” he smiles at you, his eyes glinting with what looks like a thousand lights.

“Well, if you need a hand with anything, I’m happy to help,” you regret the words as soon as they leave your lips. You really don’t need to get tied up with your neighbour. “Though I have no DIY knowledge, so would probably be no help.”

He doesn’t look put off by your obvious U-turn. “I’ll keep you in mind.”

And you’re screwed. Honestly, is that all it takes? A good-looking guy, some smiles at you and your son and a bit of kindness? Rosie is right, it’s been way too long if a simple smile turns you on.

“Mummy.”

And just like that it’s broken. You bite back the warning of being careful running down the cement paved ally with the ball in his hands. Instead, just smile at your beaming son.

“You found it. Good job. Now come on, I’m sure,” your words slope off, only just realising you have no idea what your neighbours name is.

You look up at him and he fills in your silence with his name, “Jungkook.”

“Right. I’m sure Jungkook has things to do,” you say to Zac. “What do we say now?”

Zac goes a little timid again, squeezing the ball to his chest. “Thank you,” he mumbles before twisting and running back to your house.

“Sorry,” you wince, turning back to Jungkook. “And thank you.”

“It was nothing.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” you grow awkward and decide now is the time to follow your sons lead. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“I’m sure you will,” he smiles back at you.

Twisting you start walking back to your house, already trying to forget everything that just happened. When you’re safe in the walls of your house you pull your phone out and type out a message to Rosie.

This is why I didn’t want to meet my neighbour.

As usual, it only takes a few seconds for her response to come – you swear she’s attached to her phone.

Tell. Me. Everything.

There’s a knock on your door. You leave Zac colouring on the kitchen table so you can go answer it. You feel relaxed until you see who’s there. Your whole body going taunt at the sight of Jungkook at your door. Mind flicking through the possible reasons for him to be here.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted me to mow your lawns?”

It takes you aback, you’re pretty sure you might even recoil a little from the seemingly simple question. It might take a second but you end up smiling, have to bite your lip to hide how amused you are. It’s half due to how nervous he looks on your doorstep, but more because of Rosie and your conversation from when you first saw him. He must take your beat of silence the wrong way if his increased twitchiness is anything to go by.

“I was just doing mine and thought yours needed doing,” he almost cuts himself off in his haste to clarify. “Not that it looks bad or anything. Just that it could do with a cut. Or more that it saves you the job. And as I was already out doing mine, I thought it would –”

You properly laugh now. Loud enough to cut Jungkook’s ramblings off. He looks like he’s about to throw the towel in and head home but you stop him with a wave of your hand.

“Sorry,” you continue to laugh. “It’s just … of course you can mow my lawn.”

There’s a beat and then Jungkook’s face is turning more serious, a hint of amusement in his eyes as his head cocks to the side. Oh, god. Maybe that sounded like too much of an innuendo. You stand up straight, the laughter dying on your lips.

“I just mean I won’t be offended.”

“Ok,” he says, positions swapped, him amused and you awkward. “Need anything else doing while I’m here?”

“Uh,” you look behind you into the house as if to check before looking back at him. His smile seems to have grown in those few seconds. “Nope. I think we’re all good.”

“Just the lawns then,” he grins, seeming to relax into his position in your door.

“Just the lawns,” you squeak. “Please.”

He nods but still lingers. How does someone go from a rambling nervous mess to this? Though you’ve passed each other coming and going, this is the first time the two of you have properly spoken since Zac kicked his ball over the fence. You wouldn’t have predicted it would go like this.

“Want me to do the back too?”

You almost choke. “If it’s no trouble?”

He shrugs. “As I’m here.”

“Ok,” you look behind you again, for an escape, for a reason to look away from those shining eyes and cocky smile. You’re pretty sure he’s one of these guys that realises the effect he has on people and enjoys it. “Want me to bring you out a coffee or something?”

“I’m good. I’ll just get on with it.”

“Ok, well, thank you.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

You close the door and resist the urge to collapse on the floor.

“If you kick it too hard, you’re going to have to get it,” you warn as you do another light kick of the ball in Zac’s direction.

As if in spite of your words or maybe because it’s no fun not kicking the ball hard, Zac launches the ball in your direction. Still, you laugh as you manage to leap to the side and stop the ball before it goes off down the hill behind you.

“Maybe we should go and play in the back garden?”

“No,” Zac half screams the word. “There’s horrible fences there.”

He’s referencing the time he kicked the ball over the fence and then had to go collect it. Apparently it was such a jarring experience that he doesn’t like playing there anymore, though you would have thought being able to go in the neighbours garden would be exciting for him.

“Ok, then we have to kick a little softer.”

He follows your request a few times before once again deciding playing by your rules is boring. You let it go for a bit, giggling along with Zac as you leap and try and save each of his kicks. You do a few of your own rouge kicks just so he has to run a little and it gives you a minutes piece. Award for mum of the year over here.

You’re shouting something about how great one of Zac’s kicks is when you hear a door slam. You don’t think too much of it until you hear a voice shouting out.

“Already training for the Premier League?”

You look over to the voice and are met with a beaming Jungkook slowly walking towards you, baggy trousers and just as baggy a top blowing in the breeze. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him not smiling.

“I think we still have a way to go if that’s the aim,” you joke back, looking back at Zac just in time to see him kick a ball that goes miles to your right. Luckily, it’s not a missile like some of his others, but it still feels embarrassing having to jog after the ball with Jungkook now as an audience.

By the time you have the ball back in possession and are back to where you were once stood Jungkook is only meters away. Still smiling and you catch the end of him telling Zac what a great kick he just did. He goes shy, something you always find funny as he’s always a screaming ball of energy around you and other’s he knows, you love seeing this other side of him. Still, it means you need to hold the confidence for both of you.

“Is there room for one more?”

The question takes you off guard, even though he’s made the effort to walk the short distance to be stood here.

“Uh, sure,” you say then look at Zac. “That’s ok, isn’t it Zac?”

Zac doesn’t look sure but luckily he’s currently too shy to dispute you. You also don’t give him much time to disagree with you, lightly kick the ball in Zac’s direction before he can think.

He’s gentler when he kicks it back to you, his aim surprisingly good for once. You feel a small amount of pressure when you kick the ball to Jungkook, trying to include him. It feels like when you were once in school and were laughed at for throwing the rounders ball miles off the mark. It doesn’t go badly, though Jungkook has to step a little to his left to pick it up under his feet, he expertly flicks it between his feet and then knocks it on to Zac.

Zac looks mesmerised by the simple move that you’d never be able to replicate. You can see his nerves slowly cracking with a small smile going to his lips. He still kicks the ball to you, but as the game goes on and as you and Jungkook try to change the direction a few times, Zac finally completely lets loose.

He’s giggling and doing big kicks again. He’s laughing at Jungkook doing more little tricks with the ball before he kicks it on. And he even starts to shout little bits, imitating the words the Jungkook cries out, what a save, that was close, such a good touch.

Soon enough you’re out, you’ve lost your son to your neighbour and a football. Neither of them are kicking the ball anymore, their running at each other trying to do tackles. At least Jungkook seems to realise he’s playing a four-year-old and not someone his age, his tackles are light and he always kicks the ball a little too far and is a little too slow to pick it back up letting Zac get it.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” you say to seemingly no one. But you don’t really care because your son looks so happy.

His laughs fill up the street as you make your way back to the house and when you look back you watch as Jungkook tackles him and lifts him up into the air, easily tossing him around in the sky making Zac laugh even harder.

You may take a little longer than necessary to make the drinks.

You’re out-front playing with Zac again. Well, less playing and more sat on the curb watching Zac play. You’ve had a day at work, still need to cook yours and Zac’s dinner but you promised you’d come out and do something first. Given Zac is a ball of energy it’s better to let him get all of that out now, so he’ll go to sleep earlier. That’s always the aim anyway, sometimes it’s just not the reality.

The back garden apparently isn’t good enough for him now. After playing out front and Jungkook joining him on more than one occasion you think he secretly hopes that’s going to happen every time. He doesn’t outright ask for it, but you know your son and you can see the utter joy whenever he gets to play with your neighbour.

You watch Zac run around with one of his teddy’s, rambling on about how the dinosaur is going to get them so they have to go to the volcano.

Even if you’re not necessarily playing with Zac, you love this time spent with him. It’s always just been the two of you and though that’s been hard at times, there’s never been a moment you’ve truly regretted it. You thought you loved his dad, but that was nothing compared to what you feel for Zac.

The sound of a car pulls your attention from Zac. It’s rounding the corner onto your road, still far enough and going slow enough to not panic you, but you know Zac will be oblivious.

“Zac,” you shout, standing up. “Zac. There’s a car coming, you have to wait on that side of the road for it to pass.”

Zac looks over at you, wide-eyed as he takes in the information. You can’t deny that your heart swells a little at the fact he so obediently runs to the side of the road, even picks the side that’s closest which is opposite you.

You smile at him as the car gets closer but it stops before reaching you. You can see the confusion on Zac’s face about what he should do. The car’s stopped but it’s still so close, is he allowed to continue to play?

“It’s ok Zac,” you say just as the door to the car opens.

Zac runs along the pavement for a second, obviously still not entirely sure, but when the car door opens, he must deem that good enough to know the car’s not going to move again and runs out into the road.

You watch him for a second before glancing at who got out the car. You smile at the woman you’ve never seen before. Dressed in a nice skirt and top, you shouldn’t be surprised when she makes her way to your neighbour’s house. You look away as she goes up his drive and rings the bell; it’s none of your business who Jungkook chooses to spend his time with.

Zac obviously doesn’t feel the same.

“Jungkook,” your son shouts out the name, the k sound more like a g and the last one isn’t pronounced so it sounds more like Jun-goo then anything.

Still your neighbour looks over at the shout. His guest too. Now stood on the doorway, in the middle of greeting each other. Jungkook instantly smiles while it takes the woman a second longer. You just feel mortified.

“Zac, darling, I think he has a guest.”

“But I want to play.”

You glance over at your neighbour’s front door; both are still looking at you and though you’re sure they can hear your conversation they seem to be having their own more silent conversation. You feel hot when you look back at Zac. Though you shouldn’t feel embarrassed, you somehow do.

“He can’t play right now because –”

You’re cut off by a scream that sounds like the name Jungkook as Zac goes running in his direction. Truly mortified now you turn to jog after him, calling his name as you go. You manage to catch up to him as he reaches Jungkook’s lawn, place a hand on his shoulder to try and settle him.

“Zac,” you say firmly but as quietly as you can. Jungkook and the woman can definitely here you, you’re only a few meters away, but you’d rather they didn’t. “You don’t run away from me like that and you don’t cut me off when I’m telling you something.”

He looks wide-eyed up at you, lip pouted as if there are about to be water works soon. He’s at the age where everything he asks, he assumes he can get. No isn’t a word unless he’s saying it. And when you tell him anything other than yes, he gets stroppy. It’s a cute age, but it’s tough.

“I just want to play,” Zac mumbles.

You hold your hands out in a silent question that he accepts. Leaning down you pick him up under the arms. It’s more like lifting some weights at the gym then the baby you once had but settled onto your hip and arms cuddling your side make it all worth it. You’re about to speak words of comfort to him before apologising to Jungkook and his guest but a different voice changes that.

“It’s ok,” you look up to see Jungkook stepping towards you, the girl in his entry way looking at you over his shoulder. “I’d love to play with you too, Zac, but I can’t right now. Can I maybe play with you a different night?”

You feel Zac’s head nod against your chest where it’s lay. You run a soothing hand down his arm while you shoot Jungkook an apologetic look.

“You really don’t have to do –”

“No, I mean it. I love playing with Zac.”

You doubt the twenty something year old really enjoys playing with your four-year-old son. Especially as it has just become apparent he has a girlfriend. But the way he says it and the way he smiles; you can almost believe it.

“Well, we need to get in and cook dinner anyway don’t we, Zac.”

There’s another small nod against you and you look between Jungkook and the girl again. You feel so incredibly awkward, though Jungkook looks a little worried if anything.

“Sorry, for ruining the start of your evening,” you say to them both, twisting and carrying Zac back to your house before you can gain a reply. You’ll distract Zac with food. Your own embarrassment might be harder to hide.

“Hey, let me help you with that.”

The weights that were your shopping bags are lifted out of your hands before you can protest. Soft, warm fingers run along yours to grasp the handles and then they’re gone. You turn to look at the man responsible.

“Jungkook, you really don’t have to,” but it’s like you’re talking to a wall, or more a back, as Jungkook has already turned and is heading to your front door.

“You get the others and it’ll be done in half the time,” he says over his shoulder.

You huff, still not exactly happy with the assumption you needed help, but you don’t audibly protest as you pick up the last remaining bag and follow Jungkook.

“You really don’t have to –”

“Just unlock the door,” Jungkook cuts you off, giving you a small smile and adding. “These bags are starting to get heavy.”

You roll your eyes as you do as asked, placing your bag on the floor before unlocking your front door and letting Jungkook in. He waits for you to come in before he follows you to the kitchen.

“You can just place them here,” you say before turning to look at him.

He’s all smiles again and you’re not sure why you’re so irked by the whole thing. You should be thanking him, but it’s more about what he’s slowly started to make you realise. Zac doesn’t have a man in his life and Jungkook creeping in even in these small ways has made you see how much that might be affecting him. Jungkook hasn’t done much, he’s played football out front with your son, he’s smiled and told him jokes in passing, he’s asked him a few simple questions about his life. And yet your son has lit up with every interaction.

It's ever since the incident the other day when Zac went running to him that got you thinking. You thought you were embarrassed because it looked like you couldn’t control your child, but since you’ve realised that it’s more because you’d started to get used to Jungkook in the same small ways as Zac and seeing him with a woman, presumably his girlfriend, made you realise that Jungkook probably doesn’t feel the same way. You’re just his neighbour and Zac’s just a cute kid. It’s not like you’re dating, or he owes you anything, but having had no help outside your family and Rosie since Zac was born has made even the small gestures massive.

You thought you were enough for Zac. You knew that you were possibly stopping him from experiencing something by staying single or not letting any of the men you’d dated briefly into Zac’s life, but you didn’t think it would matter. And yet so little from Jungkook has shown you how much it can mean.

You don’t mean to be rude or short with him, but these simple acts of kindness are starting to feel like an agenda. Like he’s out to prove that you’re not everything Zac needs.

You can make your son happy on your own. You can play ball with him and have fun and ask him questions about what he likes. You can carry bags into your house on your own; you’ve cooked and cleaned and worked and kept yours and Zac’s lives together longer than Jungkook’s been around. And yet Zac has never run to you the way he ran to Jungkook the other day.

“Zac not here today?”

“His Nan is looking after him.”

You can sense him looking down at you as you start to unpack your shopping. “That must be nice for them both.”

“Yep,” you say popping the p. “Certainly is.”

The silence elongates, tension rising in the gap. You can sense Jungkook watching you even though you don’t look at him as you start to unpack your food. You hear his feet shuffle on the lino floor and can see him leaning against the door frame out of the corner of your eye.

You should break it, should say something and stop being so childish, but you find you can’t, the longer it goes on the more it builds in your head. It’s as if every male that’s been in your life who hasn’t been interested in meeting Zac, everyone that you didn’t feel comfortable meeting Zac, every insecurity you had about stopping Zac from having the chance of a male figure in his life, has built up into Jungkook.

Still, you don’t ask him to leave, don’t say anything, just silently unpack as Jungkook watches you.

“Is everything alright?” It’s Jungkook that finally speaks.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You just seem a little upset is all.”

“I’m fine.”

“Ok. Let me clarify, you seem a little upset with me,” he pauses, when you don’t reply he carries on. “Have I done something to annoy you?”

“Nothing,” you say finally looking at him.

“Just tell me Y/N,” he looks a little pissed himself now and you realise how unfair you’re being. You can think all these things and build it up in your head and realise how stupid you’re being, but to take it out on Jungkook and then not explain why; that’s not fair.

“I just don’t appreciate you coming in and treating me like I can’t lift some shopping bags on my own is all.”

“I never said you couldn’t do it alone. I offered you help.”

“Yeah, ok, it’s fine. I’m overreacting,” you say in a tone to imply the opposite.

“No, come on. That’s not everything, what is it?”

You pause, wondering how much to tell him. “I’ve been looking after myself and Zac far longer than I’ve known you.”

“I know that.”

“So you can stop coming into our lives and being Mr Perfect,” you wave your hands at his whole person at the words.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Mr Perfect?”

“Carrying my shopping in and playing with Zac and acting like you have your whole life together and we don’t.”

“I really don’t know how you got that impression. My life isn’t together. And I enjoy playing with Zac and being around you, but if you’re uncomfortable with that then I can stop.”

You sigh, mentally slap yourself as you twist and pull a chair out. Plonking yourself down you run a hand down your face. When you make eye contact with Jungkook again his face still holds annoyance, but he looks a little softer now.

“Sorry,” you start, body slumping with the all the fight leaving you. “I’m being ridiculous. You don’t make me uncomfortable playing with Zac, I guess I just realised how much he’s grown to like you and yet I hardly know you.” You pause then add with a small smile. “Though you really do look like you have your whole life together.”

Your comment seems to be enough to break the tension. Jungkook chuckles again, this time looking more genuine. He takes the couple of steps to close the distance between you and pulls a chair out so he can sit.

“Well, the first thing I can tell you is I really do not have my life together,” he doesn’t speak as loudly now you’re sat with no background clattering and the wide smile he shoots you has you looking down at your lap to hide your smile. “And you know, maybe we should get to know each other better. We’re neighbours for one, but I honestly do love Zac and if it would make you feel more comfortable then I can do a whole DBS check.”

You look at him, smile wider on your face. He seems to relax at the look, less tense now you’re no longer being annoyed with him.

“You don’t have to do a DBS check,” you assure him. “I guess it’s just been a really long day and my insecurities got the better of me. Sorry.”

“Really?”

“What? Been a long day or are you struggling to believe I have insecurities?”

His eyebrow lifts and you swear his cheeks tint pink. “Well, both I guess.”

“I arrived at work to a snotty email from someone telling me how to do my job and then I didn’t have time to buy lunch so had to have one of the crappy cafeteria sandwiches. To top it all off I had to go food shopping, arguably one of the worst chores.”

Jungkook smiles, nods and waits. You’d kind of hoped you’d be able to sweep the whole insecurities bit under the rug. Guess Jungkook is taking the whole getting to know each other seriously.

“As for insecurities,” you begin, words elongated as you grow more awkward. “I mean doesn’t everyone have them? But, uh, yeah. I mean Zac’s dad has never been in his life and I’ve never properly dated anyone since having him, or at least never thought anyone was good enough to introduce him to. And I’ve always wondered if I’m somehow stopping him from having a second parent.”

Jungkook cocks his head to the side. A small movement as if he’s deep in thought at your comment. Before he can say anything though you let out a small laugh and try to move on.

“Anyway, at least I have lots of food in the house now.”

“Zac’s not missing out on anything.”

The smile dies on your lips. The words are so deadly seriously. Like he means every word. You feel yourself heating even though he’s probably just saying it because he thinks it’s what you want to hear.

“You’re an amazing mum, Y/N. Zac isn’t missing out on anything by just having one parent.”

“Thanks,” you continue to flush. “You really don’t have to say that, but thanks anyway.”

“I don’t have to say it. But I mean it.”

“Well, ok, thanks. Moving on,” you say. “Can I get you something to drink to fully apologise?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a tea.”

You nod, getting up to turn the kettle on. You’ve got an hour of your mum looking after Zac before you’ve got to pick him up. Time you were hoping to spend on tasks you actually need to get done around the house. You can’t retract your offer though and as you settle into easy conversation you find you don’t want to.

An hour passes easily with your neighbour. Laughing and drinking your teas you find you have more in common than you’d have guessed. He’s a similar age to you, took the house on next door because it was within budget, big and something he could easily do up. You normally find that people around your age feel so different in age, are at different stage in their lives as you have so much responsibility in looking after Zac and they’ve just got themselves. But Jungkook feels different. It’s still just him and you can tell by some of the things he says that he’s considering things in his life you couldn’t, but he’s bought a house, has committed to doing it up, has a steady job he wants to progress in. He’s settled. It’s small things but you find your respect towards him grows as well as the amount you like him.

An hour later, you leave him with a wave as you head to your car and he takes the short walk back to his house.

“Oh, who’s that?”

You fight the urge to look as soon as the words leave Rosie’s mouth. You still don’t want to appear too keen around her. Though you and Jungkook have grown closer, there’s still nothing between you and you still don’t want her getting the wrong impression.

“Who’s who?” You ask, playing oblivious.

She waves you over, doesn’t even turn to look at you. She’s in much the same position as when you first spied Jungkook. Body leaning over the back of the sofa, face almost pressed against the glass of your front window. If anyone were to look at your house, her face would be front and centre and while you imagine you’d die at being caught watching your neighbours so plainly, you imagine Rosie wouldn’t care, she’d probably wave at them.

“Just come look. Some girl is going to Jungkook’s.”

“Oh right, that’s probably his girlfriend,” you say flatly, unbothered, though you still make your way over to where she’s sat to take a look yourself.

“He has a girlfriend?”

The question goes straight through you as you watch the girl in question walking up his drive. Ok, maybe it’s not his girlfriend because this girl has different coloured hair, her skin is slightly darker, she’s shorter, just as beautiful as the other girl you saw, but she is not the same person.

“Of course he has the hottest girlfriend.”

The words pang even though you shouldn’t care, you shouldn’t even be looking out the window at her, yet you find yourself leaning forward to get a better angle to try and see Jungkook’s front door. Is he there? How’s he going to greet her?

“That’s not his girlfriend,” you reply.

“What? He’s cheating on her?” Rosie’s interest peaks, if possible.

“No. I mean, I don’t know,” you try to explain, Rosie looking at you with a frown. “I don’t know if he has a girlfriend. Someone came to his house the other week and I just assumed, but that’s not her.”

Rosie hums, focus going back outside. “Well, that makes sense.”

“It does?”

“A man that hot does not just settle down. He’s a player.”

“Right,” you say flatly, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

“And I mean, with a body like that, why wouldn’t he?”

“Careful not to get your drool on my window,” you say as you push yourself to stand, no longer interested in watching whatever’s happening out front.

You go back to whatever you were doing before, trying to get the image of the girl out of your mind. You shouldn’t care. But it only seems to add to everything in your mind, becomes another reason in your mind to not get too close to the man.

“Who the hell talked me into this?” You mutter to yourself as you apply the last bit of lip gloss.

Stepping back, looking at yourself in the mirror, you have to admit you scrub up nice. When you make a bit of an effort you don’t look half bad.

You’ve not been on a proper date in a couple of months. Life has been busy and it’s not been top of your list of things to do, but when someone at work said they knew someone they thought you’d get on with you reluctantly said you’d meet them. Maybe not reluctant, you’re excited to date, to have a night out with someone that isn’t Rosie, to enjoy yourself. There’s just still niggles in your mind about the whole thing.

You’ve still got half an hour before you need to leave. Your taxi booked, completely dressed and ready to go, Zac in bed, all you need now is Rosie to turn up to baby sit for a few hours.

You’ve only managed to take a single breath to try and calm yourself and have a couple of sips of the glass of wine you decided to pour yourself when your phone rings. Rosie’s name pops up on your screen and you smile as you answer it.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be late.”

“Uh, worse, possibly.”

You sit up straight, move your glass of wine so you don’t accidentally knock it. “What do you mean possibly?”

“Ok, definitely,” Rosie sounds nervous, and you’re not surprised given the desire to kill her right about now. “But, honestly, it’s unavoidable. My car’s died and I thought I could get a taxi but the quote I got was for £50 one way and I’m not saying you’re not worth it, but, on top of it all my mum called and she’s not feeling great and I just thought I’d see if you really need me or if someone else could possibly step in, just for tonight?”

You resist the urge to wipe a hand down your face or pull at your hair; you’d just spent ages so you could look like this. But it sounds like it doesn’t even matter, the date obviously wasn’t supposed to happen. You check the clock, it’s still twenty minutes until your taxi should arrive, still forty minutes until your date.

“I’ll cancel, it’s fine, go be with your mum.”

“What? No, don’t cancel.”

“What am I supposed to do instead?”

“Can’t your mum look after Zac instead?”

“She has book club tonight.”

“Your brother?” She says, her tone already implying she doesn’t hold much hope there.

“Away on business.”

“What about someone from work?”

“Rosie. Honestly, it’s fine.”

“Jungkook,” the name throws you so off you don’t respond immediately. “What about Jungkook?”

“I can’t ask my neighbour to look after my son.”

“Why? They seem to get on great and Zac will be asleep the whole time anyway.”

“He’s probably busy.”

“But you don’t know. You should go ask before you rule him out.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, torn. You really don’t want to ask Jungkook, but Rosie makes a good point. She seems to cotton onto the weakness and pushes.

“Please, Y/N. I feel so guilty that you might have to cancel this date because of me. I’d ask Jungkook myself, but I don’t have his number. I could find him on Facebook though, just have to hope he sees the message in time but I’m –”

“Ok,” you blurt to stop her.

“Ok? You want me to message him?”

“No,” you sigh, not believing what you’re about to say. “I’ll go round and see if he’s free.”

You can almost see the beaming smile that Rosie is surely sporting. She doesn’t let you hang around on the phone for much longer now you’ve made the decision she wanted. A quick comment to let her know how it goes and a goodbye and she’s gone.

Your eyes flick to the clock as if it’s going to hold some sort of information that’ll help you out. It doesn’t. Just tells you what you already know; you have less than fifteen minutes till your taxi arrives.

Nerves at an all time high you decide the whole thing will only take five minutes either way so Zac is ok in bed. Leaving the door open, you make the short trip from your house to Jungkook’s.

Are you really doing this?

You can hear the noise of the doorbell going around the house. It seems you are doing it.

Sweat builds on your palms. Heat seems to leave your body while gathering in your face. Your throat feels so tight that you wonder if you’ll be able to get any words out if Jungkook answers. Seconds feel like minutes and then when you hear his footsteps approaching they seem to thunder.

The door swings open. You watch in silence as his face goes from curious, to eyes wide in recognition, to a steady sweep of your body. His eyes are still wide when they meet yours but there’s something else in them now as well as a slight flush to his cheeks.

You’re too nervous to take much notice.

“Hey,” you start, but begin talking too fast for Jungkook to say anything. “So, I know this is asking a lot and I want to say straight away that if you’re busy, or if you just don’t want to then please don’t feel like you have to say yes. But I have a date tonight, hence the outfit, and my childcare has cancelled on me and I was wondering, if you’re free, if you could maybe look after Zac? All you’d have to do it is just sit downstairs and listen out for if he wakes up. Again, it’s fine if you don’t want to.”

His cheeks are still pink but there’s a smile on his face now. You honestly have no idea what he’s going to say.

“Y/N, I honestly don’t mind looking after Zac while you go on your date.”

The shock, the relief, the surprise; whatever he see’s pass your face makes a low chuckle leave his lips.

“Do I need to bring anything with me?”

“Uh, no. Not unless there’s something you need?”

His smile is gentle and kind as he looks at you. “Let me just grab my keys so I can lock up.”

You wait the few seconds it takes for him to grab his keys and then watch as he locks his door. You still feel weird as you wait for him, still nervous just in a different way now.

It’s silent as you walk side by side back to your house. You feel unable to look at Jungkook, though you can feel him glancing at you.

“You look nice by the way.”

“Oh, thanks,” your nerves seem to give Jungkook confidence.

“Where’s your date?”

“Just at The Botanist.”

“That’ll be nice. Is it a first date or ..?”

“Yep, first date,” you say as you enter your house. “So, there’s drinks in the fridge and help yourself to any food you find.”

“You might regret saying that,” Jungkook jokes but you’re struggling to find much funny with your emotions all over the place at the moment.

“And I’ll give you my number if anything goes wrong. Like I said he shouldn’t wake up but if he does you can give him some hot milk or read him a book.”

“We’ll be fine, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice is calm as he leans against the wall and watches you shuffle around the room. “If Zac wakes up, I’m sure I’ll cope. I’m sure I’ll be able to find anything I need and work the TV. My house is literally meters away and like you said I can just call you if I need.”

You still feel almost shaky. You trust Jungkook but it’s one thing to leave him playing with your son for ten minutes out front and wholly different to leave him home alone for a few hours. Still, you trust him and know he’ll be fine.

“Just go and enjoy your date,” Jungkook continues. “Are you nervous?”

“I – yeah,” you admit. “It’s my first date in a while.”

“Well, you really do look great. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you say softly, meaning it for so many different reasons.

“It’s fine. Now, go on, get out of here.”

You do one last sweep of the room, slip your shoes on at the door and the linger for a second. Jungkook’s already made himself at home on the sofa, smile still on his face as he watches you. Your hand pauses on the door. It still feels weird to be leaving. But you give Jungkook a nod and head out the door.

Your key slips on the lock. You sway gently side to side. Closing your eyes, you take a long, slow breath. When you open your eyes, the world is still spinning.

You try the key again. Fingers fumble, it takes a second, but you manage to get the key where you need it. You turn the key, but it doesn’t go as far as you expect. Your hand goes to the handle, you pull down and tumble forward into your house.

Giggling you pull your key out of the door. Why did you think the door was locked? Of course it wasn’t locked.

You bite your lip as you right yourself and try not to slam the door closed. You need to be quiet, Zac’s asleep upstairs and you’d hate to be the reason for waking him up.

You make the mistake of trying to balance on one foot as you take your shoe off. It doesn’t last much longer than a second, you sway so hard that you have to throw your arm out to grab the wall so you don’t wipe out on the floor. You keep hold of the wall as you safely remove your shoes this time.

Shoving your bag on the table by your door you close your eyes for a second, take another breath and then will yourself to go get a glass of water before bed.

It takes you far longer than it should to realise you’re being watched. Are stumbling through your living room to your kitchen when you spot him and you jump in the air.

“Fuck,” you curse, clutching a hand to your heart. “Jungkook. What the hell?”

“Have you had a nice night?”

You huff, a noise that sounds half like a no and half like a yes. “It was ok.”

Jungkook laughs and moves on the sofa so he’s sat up straighter. “That sounds like a rave review.”

You close your eyes and throw your head back. Water forgotten you move towards Jungkook instead, plopping down on the sofa next to him. Your eyes feel heavy but you feel awake enough to talk to Jungkook for a while.

“It was good.”

“But?” Jungkook turns towards you as you lean your head back on the cushions.

“Just that it was just good.”

Jungkook hums and you turn your head on your neck to look at him. He’s closer than you thought but it doesn���t make you pull away from him, however much that wide smile makes your heart stutter.

“You must know what I mean.”

His head cocks to the side. “And why would that be?”

“Because you’re always going off on dates,” the alcohol is loosening your lips, you’d never say anything of this if you hadn’t drunk.

“How much have you had to drink?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “It was two for one.”

“So that’s what made it a good night?”

You giggle, the noise escaping you with little to no warning. “No, the guy was nice too.”

“Was that opinion formed before or after the alcohol was consumed?”

This time you reach round and slap his arm as you laugh. It pushes you closer to him, the knee you have folded on the sofa pushing into his leg. Your hand lingers on his arm and he doesn’t push you away. You feel the heat coming off him and realise what you’re doing. You pull away and the heat transfers from your hand to your face.

“God, sorry, maybe I’m more drunk than I thought.”

You pull away, twist so you’re facing forward again. Now you think about it your head is really spinning. Looking after Zac tomorrow is going to be fun.

“Want me to get you some water?” Jungkook’s asking the question even as he stands to do just that.

You watch him walk away from you and disappear into the kitchen. He looks so at home.

You close your eyes again and rest your head against the back of the sofa. Water sounds good, maybe it’ll clear your head a little, because now you think about it, being drunk and loose lipped around Jungkook probably isn’t the best decision.

“Here you go.”

A pint of water is in front of you when you open your eyes. You sit up straighter, hold your hand out to take the glass and then down nearly half of it before taking sips from it instead. Jungkook is still stood in front of you, a small smile on his lips as he looks down at you.

“Better?” You nod at the question and Jungkook’s lip curls at the edge. “You ok to look after Zac like this?”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Ok,” he says with a small laugh, as if he doesn’t quite believe you. “I’ll leave you and Zac alone then.”

He only moves a little, is only standing up straighter, but the movement coupled with the words is enough for you to panic and reach out and grab his hand. Or more grab his wrist. And because he doesn’t move you can slip your fingers lower and land on their intended target.

“Wait. Don’t go.”

His smile has slipped now, his face flat as he stares down at you. He’s not gripping your hand back. You suddenly feel a lot more sober, feel like you’ve made a mistake.

“You’ve not told me how your night was yet,” you say in a much softer tone, your hand slipping out of his.

“I haven’t heard anything from Zac. I even went to look in his room to make sure he was actually there. He’s been fast asleep while I’ve watched trash TV all night.”

You nod, feel like you’re turning into a nodding dog at this point. But you don’t know what else to say. You’ve just asked him to stay and that short, closed sentence is clearly him telling you he’s heading home.

“Well, thanks so much for looking after him.”

“It was no trouble.”

You look up at him, wait for him to move, to leave you sat here alone. But he still doesn’t. It gives you enough confidence to keep talking, or maybe the silence is just eating too much into you that you feel a need to fill it.

“Do you want me to pay you?”

His eyebrows shoot up his head and you giggle, realising what he must be thinking and go on to clarify.

“I mean for babysitting.”

“Oh, no. I was only going to be sat next door doing the same thing anyway.”

“Right,” you swallow, mind whirling. “Well, I still feel a need to pay you back some way.”

“You really don’t need to do anything.”

“But you’ve done so much for me and Zac since moving in.”

“I’ve told you before I like playing with Zac.”

“And the mowing our grass?”

“It only makes sense when I’m already doing mine.”

“What if I want to pay you back?”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Nothing?”

He pauses, his eyes dark as he looks down at you. The air seems to thicken and though you don’t know how, you know you’ve got him.

His eyes follow as you push yourself to stand up. He doesn’t move to give you space as you come toe to toe with him. His eyes flick around your face as yours remain steady on his. You don’t touch him straight away, but you get close enough that all you’d need to do is lean forward and you’d be against him.

The silence feels loud now, both of you holding your ground, the anticipation rising.

“Are you sure you want this?” He swallows his eyes flicking to your lips.

Subconsciously you sweep your tongue along your bottom lip and are rewarded with Jungkook unable to take his eyes off the movement.

If you were completely sober maybe you wouldn’t be so brash. If you hadn’t just been on a rubbish date, thinking about how much better it could be if only the person sat opposite you was the man currently stood in front of you, maybe you wouldn’t be this bold. If Jungkook hadn’t been so kind, so thoughtful, so good looking, maybe you wouldn’t be doing what you’re about to do, maybe you’d be thinking twice about what a mistake it could turn out to be.

You close the gap, move slowly to let Jungkook back away if he wants. But he doesn’t. When you’re close enough, he places his hands on your hips and pulls you into him.

He tastes salty, like crisps. His lips mould to yours the way your body moulds against his. Your back arches up into him, his hand goes to the small of your back and his tongue slips into your mouth.

“Are you sure about this?” Jungkook whispers again.

You don’t have time to answer, now you’ve kissed him, you want all of him. You twist both of you so that when you push yourself into him and he has to take a step back, his knees hit the sofa. His eyes are wide, full of surprise as he lowers himself backwards. You don’t let yourself be shocked, this is so unlike you, but honestly you don’t care or overthink it.

Placing a knee either side of Jungkook you straddle him, place your lips back on his as you grind down into him. His hands fall to your hips again, squeeze the flesh there every time you drag yourself over his length. You can feel him, all of him, hard and long, pushing up against his joggers and right into you.

You need him. Now.

All rational goes out the window as you push yourself up enough to try and push his trousers down. Before you can get very far, Jungkook’s hands are encompassing your wrists, stopping you. He doesn’t seem angry when you look at him, there’s only an amused smile on his lips.

“What’s the rush?”

“I –” you pause, it’s enough time for you to come back to reality and realise how desperate you must look right now. You plop yourself backwards, sit on Jungkook’s knees as his hands slip from your wrists to encompass your hands. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

He pulls your forward enough to kiss your lips. You can feel the smile is still there.

“Let me at least go get a condom,” he mumbles.

You let out an embarrassed huff of air, your face scrunching in mortification while Jungkook just chuckles. He moves his hands to your hips, pushes you up and then gently gets you to lay on the sofa while he stands. You look up at him, embarrassed, but still don’t want him to leave.

“I’ll only be a minute,” he says before disappearing from view.

You’re left in the silence of your own embarrassment. Lay on the sofa you keep replaying the last ten minutes over in your head. Sure, it was great, kissing Jungkook has definitely exceeded expectations so far. But what must he think of you? Pouncing on him after a failed date.

You place your hands over your face and let out a small groan, missing the noise of the front door quietly closing.

“Don’t tell me you carried on without me?”

You peel your hands off your face, look up surprised to see Jungkook back. Part of you honestly thought that was an excuse to up and run. But there he is, beaming down at you, small foil packet in hand.

“You still wanna?” His voice drifts off, unsure.

You’re still in shock. But a quick glance down shows that he isn’t lying. His trousers are still straining at the groin.

You look back at his face, suddenly feeling very hot. You nod. Jungkook smiles.

“Good,” he mutters before taking his top off. “Because you still owe me.”

You watch as he takes his trousers off, leaving him only in his boxers. And then he kneels before you. Hand on either knee, he twists you so that your feet hit the floor and you’re sat in front of him. As he toys with the hem of your dress, you dutifully lift your arms to let him know he can take it off.

His eyes are near black, focused purely on your chest and the light lace that is covering you, when your dress is on the floor.

“Were you hoping to go home with him?” His voice is as dark as his voice, a husky quality to it that has you clenching around nothing.

“No,” you say honestly, the word enough to have Jungkook drag his eyes up to yours. “I wore it to feel good.”

He nods. His eyes flicking back down to admire your body. You feel good, slightly self-conscious but you must admit that it feels nice to have Jungkook look at you with that much lust on his face.

His hands reach out, lightly run down your sides at the same rate as his eyes. He toys with your lacy pants for a second, eyes flicking up to yours before he starts to pull them down. You lift yourself up a little to help him and then they’re joining your dress on the floor.

Your breaths come out faster. Your head leaning back into your sofa as Jungkook places his hands on your knees and pushes them apart.

How is this happening?

You can’t believe this is happening.

You can’t pull your eyes away from the sight of Jungkook’s head moving towards you. You swear you’ve had a wet dream about it. And now it’s happening.

His tongue is just as delicate as his fingers as he swipes it through your folds. His hands hold firm on your knees as you try to clamp them together around his head. You can feel his smile as his lips go to your clit, his tongue drawing patterns of the bundles of nerves.

When he deems it safe to, one of his hands moves from your knee and with his lips still on your clit, he begins to push into your entrance.

Your hand flies to his head, pushing him further into you while fisting the strands of hair on his head. You moan at the ceiling and push your hips further into Jungkook.

It feels amazing. He feels amazing.

When he pushes another finger into you the coil in your stomach only grows tighter. You moan out again and then realise that the two of you aren’t alone in this house.

“We’ve got to be quiet. Zac’s upstairs,” your voice is breathy, almost husky.

There’s a mumbled noise against your skin, hopefully in recognition of what you’ve said. And despite your words it’s you that’s the noisiest. You can’t help it, however hard you try Jungkook’s lips around your clit and his fingers inside you make it impossible.

You can feel his lips turn into a smile when you let out a particularly loud noise. You wouldn’t care if it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook pulls away from you. His fingers still in you, his face looking up at you with a certain smugness.

“How we going to get you to be quiet then?”

As if to prove his point you moan out when his fingers push deeply into you. He chuckles, you frown at him. Hands reaching up, you have to push yourself off the sofa a little to wrap them around his neck to pull him up off the floor and into you.

“Like this,” you say before attaching your lips to his.

This time when you moan out it’s swallowed by Jungkook’s mouth.

He expertly works you both sideways, fingers still in you as he manoeuvres you to lay down on the sofa with him hovering over you.

His hand doesn’t become enough. There’s pleasure there still, but you want more, you want all of him. He didn’t go all the way back to his for a condom for nothing.

Placing a hand on his shoulder you get him to pull away from you. “Where’s the condom?”

It takes a second for him to understand, but then he’s doing a scramble to find it. He finds it between the layers of your dress. As you tear it open, he pushes his boxers down. You try not to be intimidated by his size, because as he rolls down himself that’s all you can think.

He is fucking massive.

Jungkook looks smug when you look back at him, as if he’s seen where you were looking and read what you were thinking. You roll your eyes as you pull him back down to kiss you.

“Just shove it in already,” you mumble against his lips, earning a chuckle from him.

He reaches between your bodies, runs his tip through your folds and pushes just the tip inside you. You moan and arch up into him. It already feels like a lot.

“Sure you can handle it?” He jokes, confirming he knew what you were thinking earlier.

You think he probably has a point. But the desire to prove him wrong, or at least wipe the smug smile off his face, is larger. Wrapping your legs around him, you push him down deeper into you as you push your hips up. He must only move a couple of inches, but it’s enough. This time it’s him, not you, that lets a moan out and you don’t have to encourage him to sink the rest of the way in.

There’s a small pause in movement. Your breaths the only noise in the room. You realise you still have your bra on when you feel Jungkook’s chest move along yours. But then he’s placing his lips against yours and delicately kissing you. Softly and slowly, he begins to move.

It’s not the rough, heavy sex you’d imagined. He doesn’t toss you around, or man handle you. He’s slow as he pulls out and though there’s power behind each thrust in, it’s still not rough. A thought flicks through your mind, it’s more like making love than having sex. The thought there one second and then gone when Jungkook thrusts back into you.

It feels good. His lips still on yours, his thrusts building up that feeling inside you, the small moans he keeps letting out only driving you closer to oblivion.

It doesn’t take long. It’s no surprise. Even if his body didn’t look the way it did, his cock is big enough that he wouldn’t need to have much skill to make anyone feel good. But, as if to make it completely unfair, he knows what he’s doing, knows exactly how fast to go, exactly how deep to push into you, knows where to touch and where to kiss to drive you completely insane.

When you come, you come hard. You become a mess in his arms. He swallows every one of your moans as he thrusts a couple more times and then you feel him twitching in you, his own moans rumbling through his chest.

Still inside you, he rolls you so you can lay side by side. You should go to the loo, should put some clothes on or something. But when Jungkook reaches up to pull a blanket off the back of the sofa over the top of you, you find it hard to even keep your eyes open.

You were hoping Jungkook would be gone before Zac woke up, but when you hear the small feet thundering down the stairs all you can think is how happy you are you both have clothes on.

Zac jumps off the last three steps, a habit you tried to stop early but probably only encouraged him. He runs nearly as far as the kitchen before he realises there’s someone other than you sat on the sofa. He’s too surprised to say anything straight away, his eyes wide as they stare straight at Jungkook.

“Have you brushed your teeth?” You draw his eyes to you. He pauses then with a guilty look nods. “Have you?” You get another less delayed nod. “Come here then.”

He doesn’t move, he knows he’s been caught out. You raise an eyebrow at him and he tries his hardest to hide his smile but fails.

“Go and clean your teeth and I’ll make you breakfast. What do you want?”

His eyes flick to Jungkook before settling back on you. “Why’s Jungkook here?”

Your heart stops before starting at a more rapid pace. “He just slept here last night.”

“You had a sleepover?” He looks hurt as if you purposefully left him out.

“No, well, yes, but it was nothing Zac.” You can feel the way Jungkook tenses next to you, and you know if you were to look at him, he’d be stifling a laugh. “Just go brush your teeth.”

He pauses a second longer, eyes continue to flicking between you but one look at your stern face has him moving back to the stairs.

“And what do you want for breakfast?” You shout after him.

“A ham sandwich, crisps and sausage roll.”

“That’s lunch,” you shout but don’t get a response.

Zac fully out of view now, Jungkook lets out his laugh. When you turn to point your frown at him, you’re met with his face a lot closer than you’d thought. Without much thought he leans in and places his lips against yours. When you stiffen and try to look over your shoulder to double check you really are alone, Jungkook’s hand goes to your head to stop you.

“It’s fine,” he whispers before pressing one last kiss on your lips and drawing away.

You remain stiff even as Jungkook removes himself to a safe distance. It’s just that you’re not used to this. Sure, the morning after stuff is awkward but it’s more that Jungkook looks so relaxed in what should be an incredibly awkward situation.

“You going to go make that ham sandwich?” He smiles at you.

“You going to head off?” You counter.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do I not also get breakfast?”

“Do you want breakfast.”

“Uh, yeah?” He chuckles as if it’s obvious.

You could ask him to leave you guess, but after a moments pause you figure there’s really no reason. Your main worry was Zac seeing him here, but that’s happened now anyway. There really isn’t any reason to force him to leave.

Standing up, you head to the kitchen, Jungkook following in your wake.

“Scrambled eggs on toast?” You ask, already getting the ingredients out, heading to the counter with them.

Jungkook comes up behind you when you’re cracking one of the eggs. His body presses into your back and he leans round to place his head on your shoulder so he can watch what you’re doing. When you twist to ask what he’s doing he only sees it as an opportunity to kiss you.

“Jungkook?” You ask, pulling away.

“What?” He chuckles, staying where he is.

“Zac could walk in any second.”

“I’ll hear him coming down the stairs, it’s fine.”

You’re not as sure and while it’s one thing for Zac to see Jungkook here early, it’s wholly different for him to see him all over you like this. Jungkook seems to get the idea and with a smile and another quick kiss he peels himself off you.

You would never have thought Jungkook the clingy type. But then you wouldn’t have guessed he’d have been so soft with you last night too, so maybe you just have to realise all your assumptions about the man are probably wrong.

Feeling flustered you focus back on your eggs. And when you hear Zac’s feet running down the stairs you realise how unprepared you are for this breakfast.

“Have you washed your hands?” You say over your shoulder.

“What’s Jungkook doing here?”

“I’ve already told you that. Have you washed your hands?”

One glance over your shoulder tells you enough. They’re the words you say before every meal and every time you get the same guilty look. Before you can tell him to go and wash them though, Jungkook’s speaking.

“I haven’t done mine either. Maybe you could show me where the sink is?”

You catch the small nod Zac does before he’s zooming off. Eyes still on the door you miss the fact that Jungkook walks over to you before following Zac and can only freeze when he presses a light kiss to your cheek.

“See, I’ve got this,” he says cockily before disappearing after Zac.

You remain frozen for a few more seconds before realising the eggs are catching and you still need to butter the toast.

Though you’ve managed the whole, looking after a toddler while also doing one hundred other things, it’s not wasted on you how much of a help Jungkook is. He occupies the time it takes for you to get breakfast ready and then helps Zac lay the table for you. He keeps up an easy conversation over the food. And then, when you start to clear up he easily takes Zac out of the way and entertains him for a bit before coming back to help you.

They’re small things, stuff you wouldn’t have even picked up on before Zac was around. But you can’t deny that his easy smiles, coupled with watching him wipe down the table really gets you going. You really are a mum.

“Oh shit,” you moan, body creeping up the bed.

Jungkook only grunts in return, his hands tightening on your hips to stop you from moving away from him. With the way he’s slamming himself into you, it doesn’t help and you continue to move up the bed.

He slows to a stop, leaning down into you so his chest is against you, face above yours and cock fully in you. His hair is slightly damp from all the effort he’s put in. You’d feel slightly bad if it weren’t for the fact he’s been making you feel extremely good and that he looks incredibly hot with damp hair. He also doesn’t seem to be complaining about the fact you’ve just been laying on your back the entire time.

“Mum’s going to be round soon with Zac,” you manage to get the words out just before he presses his lips to yours.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he moves his hips in the same slow but deep rhythm. You try to grind your hips up into his, deepening how far he goes into you with every thrust.

“We’ve got time,” Jungkook mutters back, his lips moving from your mouth to press around your face. “I just need you a different way if I’m going to come any time soon.”

“Mhumm?” You moan, eyes closed, head tilted back to let Jungkook have access to your neck. “How’d you want me?”

He hums, teeth nibbling a little bit of skin as his hips push a final time into you. “On your hands and knees.”

He looks up at you, trying to gage your reaction but when you clench around him, he gets the idea. You hum a little when he pulls out and when he’s given you enough space you turn onto your front. Wait patiently, exactly how Jungkook wants you.

His hand runs down the arch of your back, stopping only to feel the globe of your ass. He lets out a satisfied hum before you feel his cock tapping you.

You arch back and up into him and you hear a little satisfied chuckle as his hand moves to your hip. He keeps you where you are as he runs his tip through your folds.

“I’m not going to last long when I get in you,” he warns.

“Neither.”

“Ok,” he breaths, stopping when he’s at your entrance.

His hands tighten on your hips and he lets out a low whine as he pushes into you. He feels so different from this angle, somehow bigger than he felt before. The first few thrusts are slow, you both are getting used to the feel of it. But when you fall onto your elbows, half exhaustion, half because your hands were starting to ache, he hits a particular spot in you that has you moaning into the sheets.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook asks and you can only let out a gurgled noise in response.

It’s enough. His thrusts grow faster and every time they hit that spot. His balls slap against you, only adding more pleasure. The whole thing is enough to do as you both warned. You come first, hard and out of nowhere. And the feeling of you clamping down is enough to get Jungkook to follow close behind.

Collapsing on your front, Jungkook pulls out of you and gets rid of the condom before lying next to you.

“I should really sort myself out before mum gets here,” you say, though don’t move.

“We’ve got time.”

“Yeah, no offense, but you also need to be gone before she gets here.”

He chuckles, the noise causing a smile to appear on your lips. “I’ll jump the fence if I need to. Stop worrying.”

You roll onto your side and Jungkook flops his head so he can look at you.

“She’ll be able to smell that you’ve been here,” you say and Jungkook grimaces as if weirded out by the comment. “I know. But nothing gets past her.”

Jungkook rolls onto his side. “Well, I can stay and meet her if you want?”

You don’t know why the thought terrifies you so much, but it does. You don’t even know why Jungkook’s offering, but he seems so sincere about it, as if it’s a perfectly normal thing to offer. Surely, it’s too early to be thinking about meeting each other’s parents?

“I can just say you need help putting some shelves up.”

“She’ll make some comment about that being an innuendo,” you roll onto your back.

“Well come on then,” you feel the bed dip and move and when you look back over at Jungkook he’s already standing. “Let me at least help you clean up the evidence.”

There’s a wide smile on his face as he starts to pull on the clothes you all but threw on the floor earlier. He doesn’t look bothered by any of this and while you worried this was only about the sex for him, with all the little things he’s doing, he’s slowly convincing you that maybe it’s not.

“But you better hurry,” he teases when you continue to lay staring at him. “She’s going to be here any minute.”

He does a poor imitation of your voice and when you throw a pillow at him he only chuckles as he catches it. It hits you square in the face when he tosses it back. By the time you’re sat up and moving Jungkook is already out of the room and beginning to tackle the mess you’ve been putting off.

You continue to sleep together whenever you can find the time without Zac being around. But when there isn’t any, Jungkook is still there.

He plays with Zac outside so you can have some peace while you prepare dinner. He washes the dishes up when he occasionally stays for food so you can go and get Zac ready for bed. He buys you bunches of flowers and little boxes of chocolates. He does things around the house, mows the lawn, stops the cupboard squeaking and makes it so the shower doesn’t leak water out of one side.

He seeps into your life in every way and though you’re cautious, you completely let him in.

You convince yourself it’s nothing serious, mainly because you never discuss what the two of you are. But it’s fun and you live in the moment, enjoy the sex as well as the help you’re getting around the house.

However, you look at it though, you know you’re doing what you said you wouldn’t. You’re letting Jungkook in. Not just into your life, but into Zac’s too. Somehow you can’t seem to feel bad about it.

You don’t notice him until you round your car to check that Zac is strapped in. It’s barely 7am, not a time you’re used to seeing Jungkook but the movement at his door has you glancing up. You do a double take as you come to a stop by Zac’s door.

There’s a girl looking like she’s just stepped out of his house, she’s close enough to Jungkook to look like they’re about to embrace or make out or maybe both. He’s stood just in his pants looking down at her, you’re too far away and the girl is blocking your view to work out the expression on his face. Or maybe it’s the cool feel of embarrassment that stops you looking too hard.

Still, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene. As the girl is talking and Jungkook is listening, neither notice you staring.

It’s not the same girl you’ve noticed at his before, no, this is someone you’ve never seen. You’re not sure if that makes it better or worse. What you do know, is how big an idiot you are. Because of course while you were growing to like him, while you were letting him further into your life, he only saw what you had as something else, a bit of fun, a convenience.

It’s your own fault for not talking to him about it. Your own fault for reading into it more than you should have. You’d known who Jungkook was, what he was like, the sort of man he was and yet you’d still been blinded by his words and smiles. You stupidly thought that you were different. One of those stupid girls that thought you’d be the one to change him.

And there he is, after a night with someone else and he doesn’t even care that he’s flaunting it on his front doorstep.

“Mummy, why aren’t you trapping me?”

Zac speaks loudly enough to not just draw your attention but your neighbours too. You catch Jungkook’s eyes dart towards you just before you twist to your son. You don’t correct his wording, you just want to be out of this situation, don’t want your embarrassment to be witnessed by anyone else.

You duck down to Zac’s level and pull the belt over him and his car chair. Satisfied he’s strapped in you stand. Your traitorous eyes can’t help but flick to your neighbour’s door, however hard your brain is screaming not to look.

The girl is a step further away from the door now, her head looking between you and Jungkook. Jungkook’s gaze is firmly on you. It looks like he’s about to open his mouth and shout something at you. That or take off in a run in your direction.

Springing into action, blood coursing through you, you leap into the drivers seat, buckle yourself in and take off in reverse.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you start down the road. Though you know nothing is going to happen there’s thoughts of Jungkook opening your door or banging on your window. None of that happens. When you flick your eyes in the rear-view mirror, he’s not even left his doorstep.

Your heart falls into the bottom of your stomach.

“I know what I saw Rosie.”

“Well talk me through it one more time.”

You sigh, look down at the tea in your hands before flicking your eyes to your son. Zac is still playing with the little girl who approached him fifteen minutes ago and is happily getting bossed around in a game with her. It’s sweet to see the bundle of energy that is your son be so placid sometimes. It’s also great to be at one of your favourite coffee shops, kids play area and all with your best friend moments after the most embarrassing time of your life. Though you don’t want to relive every detail of what happened in the car before coming here, it’s kind of nice to hash it out with Rosie.

“There was a girl, all dressed up as if she’d had to put on the clothes she was out in last night, stood on Jungkook’s doorstep while he stood basically naked saying goodbye.”

Rosie hums, her head bobbing up and down in thought. “Yep. I’ve got to admit I’m struggling to see any good angles.”

“That’s because there are no good angles,” you whine.

“Well, I’m guessing the nearly naked bit was good.”

The glare you shoot at her has her sitting straighter in her chair, her hands almost raising in defence.

“Yep. Agreed. Definitely one of the worst bits. Ok.”

You sigh, eyes flicking once again to Zac.

“And what the hell am I supposed to tell Zac?” It’s the first time you’ve thought about it, because although this is your issues, it’s also going to affect Zac. “I can just ignore Jungkook, but Zac will still ask questions and while I’d dive away from him in public Zac won’t do the same.”

“Right,” Rosie says with the air of a woman with no children, therefore lacking all understanding of your predicament. “Well, my first thoughts in all of this, and please don’t kill me when I say this. But, why don’t you talk to Jungkook first?”

“Why would I do that?” You ask flatly.

“Because you clearly have no idea what you were looking at this morning.”

“What gave you that impression? I’ve very obviously stated just how much I saw.”

“Yes, and while I admit it didn’t look great, neither of us can fully explain it. The only person who can happens to live only a short trip from your house.”

“Not going to happen,” you say, taking a sip of your tea and looking away from her. It does nothing to convince her to change the topic.

“You’re both adults. Maybe what you thought you saw wasn’t exactly what it was,” when you continue to not look convinced, she sighs. “Fine, give him a piece of your mind, walk away from him and avoid him like the plague. But what if you’re building this up to be something it really isn’t?”

“I know Jungkook, and I know what that was.”

“From what you’ve told me about him, I really don’t believe it for a second.”

Your ice-cold glare does nothing, she just levels her gaze right back at you. In the end it’s you who give in first.

“I’m not going around to his only to have what I already know laid out so plainly for me. You don’t understand how mortifying it was this morning.”

Rosie’s eyes turn softer, a glint of pity seeping into them. When she speaks her tone is softer and her body starts to lean in towards you.

“I get it. But I also get the impression that Jungkook would never do that to you or Zac.”

The mention of your son’s name makes your heart pound. You look over at him, he looks so happy sat on the floor piling blocks high with the little girl. It makes your heart hurt to imagine him asking after Jungkook and you having to tell him that he can’t see him anymore. The laughs and giggles that always came out of him when Jungkook is around. The manly figure in his life gone like that. This is why you didn’t want to get close to him. This is why you didn’t want anything to happen. Because although you’re hurting right now, you know it’ll feel nothing in comparison to breaking it to your son.

“Will you just think about it at least?” Rosie asks, dragging your eyes back to her.

You sigh and then nod. “I’ll think about it.”

You think about it all of two seconds and know you will never be knocking on Jungkook’s door, nor will you be hanging around outside long enough for him to catch you. No, you will be doing exactly as Rosie suggested and avoiding him like the plague.

This is why you never wanted to get involved with him. Because you knew what would happen in the end, you knew what type of man he was. And why you may have accepted that in the past, gone with the man for a bit of fun. Now, things have changed, it’s not just you that you have to think about.

You spend the time alone thinking it through. The more time you have, the more certain you are. Jungkook was a mistake. But now you know that you can move on as best you can. He doesn’t want you, that’s fine, you can accept that and do your best to pick up whatever pieces of Zac that break.

Surprisingly, for nearly a week, it works.

Unsurprisingly, when there’s an unexpected knock at your door Saturday evening when Zac is in bed, it’s Jungkook.

You know it’s going to be him before you open the door, or at least have a strong feeling it is. Your face is already set in a grimace, so luckily it’s not a delivery man or an unsuspecting stranger. You open the door enough for Jungkook to see you, but only enough that your body is blocking any view inside.

“Hey.”

You raise an eyebrow at the word. Has he really come here after a week and the first word he says is hey? You can almost see the cold sweat breaking out across his forehead, but to his credit Jungkook remains calm.

“So, I was thinking it’s been a while since we last saw each other and I was wondering how you are?”

“Are you shitting me right now?”

You have half a mind to slam the door in his face and as if reading that thought Jungkook sticks a hand out and props it on the door. He doesn’t push it open, he doesn’t apply any pressure, he just rests it there so he can stop you closing him out.

“Can I come in so we can talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Given this reaction, there is clearly lots to talk about Y/N.”

“And if I don’t want to talk?”

He closes his eyes. You’re not sure if he’s praying or taking a second to calm himself down. Either way, when he opens them and looks at you, they seem darker, more intense, like he has more purpose now.

“Right, if you want to do it here, let’s do it here,” he says and doesn’t give you time to interrupt. “I know you saw me last week with Clare. I know what it looked like and I know what you thought. Maybe I’ve been utterly shit in not coming sooner but I wanted to give you space to figure things out on your own; I realise now that was a mistake.”

You’re so thrown by the last comment you don’t speak in the small pause. Should you be offended? Jungkook carries on, as if satisfied you’re listening to him.

“Clare is an ex of sorts, and she came over early, before I had chance to get dressed, and that’s what you saw. Nothing else. Nothing more.”

You don’t know how to feel. You don’t know whether to believe him. Because although he sounds like he’s telling the truth, he also sounds like he really wants you to believe him and for whatever reason you’re not sure why he’d cared so much about what you think.

“You always answer the door in your pants?”

It’s clearly not the words he was hoping for, but he still gives you an answer. “When I’ve just woken up, yes.”

“And she didn’t stay the night?”

The question, although spoken with a little less bite, a little less certainty, seems to be more what Jungkook was expecting. Though you’ve given him little reason to relax, his shoulders look less tense, his weight leans forwards so the door creaks open a touch. You try to hold your ground as your traitorous heart pounds in your chest.

“No one has stayed the night since I’ve been with you.”

Your eyes flick around his face trying to read the truth there. You can’t spot the lie, though you still don’t fully believe it.

“She didn’t even come inside,” he carries on. “In fact, she was at my door all of ten minutes before she left. If you hadn’t driven off, you would have seen that.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?” He frowns. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yes. You’ve explained, so, ok.”

Jungkook remains, frown between his eyes, hand still on your door. And you stare right back at him, feet planted, door not swinging open.

“I don’t understand,” he admits, voice soft.

“Right, because you expected me to jump back into your arms?” The silence tells you the answer you already knew. This man’s ego is way too big. “I guess I just realised who you are and why we don’t work together. What happened between us was a mistake and I’m sorry if you’ve been pushing girls aside for whatever reason, but you don’t have to anymore.”

Jungkook continues to look confused. It only makes you drive the message home a little stronger.

“We were never going to work. You’re you and I’m me and while we had fun, that’s all it was ever going to be. I guess I just remembered who you are and why I can’t afford to have you around me and Zac.”

Jungkook’s hand slips from the door and the look of hurt on his face almost makes you regret the words. But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re not sure what he was coming here to say, that he wanted to carry on sleeping with you for a bit longer? That you were convenient living next door and he didn’t want to give that up just yet? Aren’t the words you just said what he would have been telling you weeks down the line when you and your son were no doubt in too deep?

No. It was better you told him how it was now. It was better you ripped off the plaster. It was better you ended this now before Jungkook broke your heart. Because although you’re hurting now, although you want to drag him inside and let his explanation be enough, you know that it’ll only be worse later.

Jungkook’s hand now free from your door you see your chance.

“I’ll still see you around though,” the words feel bitter as they leave your lips and your tone lacks any conviction. “I’m still happy to lend you sugar like any other neighbour.”

Jungkook doesn’t speak, his eyes focused on something in the near distance, he looks like he’s trying to solve a puzzle or an over complex maths equation.

You swallow as his eyes finally move to yours. The frown is still there but they look dark and not in the same way they did earlier. No, the look in them now makes your stomach coil. He looks like he’s figured something out. You can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing.

You don’t give yourself long enough to figure it out. You need to be out of this situation. You need Jungkook off your doorstep. You need to make sure he doesn’t say anything to change you’re easily swayed mind.

“I’ll see you around,” you squeak and then you slam the door closed in his face.

You lean into the door as your chest rises and falls. You did it, though you doubted yourself, you told him what you’d been thinking the last week, that although you didn’t really want him out of your life, it was better he was out of it.

You don’t hear his footsteps. You don’t see his shadow move away from your door. You remain leaning on your door for a minute after closing it but you’re unaware of Jungkook leaving either. Heart in your throat, you twist and walk away, hoping that’s the last you hear from the man but knowing it won’t be.

It starts with flowers. A big bloom that gets delivered first thing in the morning. They get shoved in your hands and the woman is walking away before you can tell them they must have got the wrong address. Your names on the card though, and when you prize it open you know who they’re from even though it’s got no signature.

You never let me finish. Let me take you out for dinner?

You bite the inside of your cheek, send a glare at your neighbour’s brick wall.

You still put them in water. You still cut their stems and arrange them and then place the large vase on your countertop. It would be a waste to throw them away. But you don’t attempt to reply to the question on the card. That, you throw away.

It takes Jungkook a few hours to text you, chasing for an answer.

Jungkook: Did you get my flowers?

Y/N: They’re yours? I thought they must have come to the wrong house.

Jungkook: Is that why you put them in that pretty vase and up on display? What did you think about the note that came with it?

Y/N: It’s in the bin where it belongs.

Jungkook: Let me take you out for dinner.

Y/N: I’m busy.

Jungkook: I never even gave you a date or time.

Y/N: I struggle getting a babysitter for Zac as it is.

Jungkook: Then let me cook for you. He can sleep while we talk.

Y/N: I really am busy Jungkook.

Jungkook: Think about it. I just want to talk.

Sure, you think, I’ll think about it. The same length of time you thought about whether you’d go and talk to him before. All of two seconds.

No, you’re not going to have dinner with him. You don’t particularly want to talk to him ever again.

Maybe it’s childish given he’s your neighbour. What he did wasn’t awful, it’s more that you know if you give him even an inch then he’ll take a mile and you’ll just let him back in. You liked having him around, you liked the help, you liked being able to talk to someone your age, you liked someone looking after you. But it’s not just about you.

You’re bound to see him around and that doesn’t mean you won’t give him a neighbourly hello and nod. That will be it. No opening up about your life. No asking to babysit. No late night drinks. No kissing on the sofa. No anything more.

You can’t even think about it. You may be pretending to be hard and over it, but Jungkook had successfully wormed his way into your life and if it wasn’t for Zac, you’d more than happily curl up in your bed and mope for a few days.

You’ve successfully been played. And it feels shit.

“Mummy,” you look over at Zac. “You’ve been sat of that sofa forever.”

He never fails to put a smile on your face. And just like you were thinking before, he successfully gets you out of your slump. You could sulk all you want in private, but with Zac around you have to set an example.

You don’t go to Jungkook’s for dinner, instead make some half-arsed excuse as to why you can’t go. He must know you’re still pushing him away and at least this time he lets you. You get a simple reply to your text rejecting his invitation. No offers to rearranged. No accusations or callouts for your excuse. No attempt to carry on the conversation. Just an understanding message.

You’re not sure why but you feel a little disappointed. Even though it’s what you were hoping for.

It doesn’t take long for the next attack to come. This time it’s not flowers or offers of dinners but is instead small acts of kindness. Your lawn mowed without having to ask. Your bins emptied and cleaned. Your car cleaned. All things Jungkook’s done in the past and if you didn’t know him you’d find slightly creepy, but instead find endearing.

You hate that you feel that way.

His texts don’t start immediately. But when they start, they come in steady streams. There’s no pressure in any of them and while you hardly reply to any of them, they’re still said in the same tone, sweet and light. They all say pretty much the same thing, that he wants to meet to talk. But you’re not ready and you don’t want to. No matter what he says it won’t change who he is and it won’t change the fact that you’ll like slip again and you can’t afford to be with someone like that.

You see him in passing, him leaving while you’re arriving home. Again, he never pressures you into talking but always smile and waves at you.

You start to feel a little awkward. You know what he’s doing, guilt tripping you into giving in; you just don’t understand why he’s doing it. Surely he should have given up by now, surely if you’re just someone to sleep with this isn’t worth it.

You’re sat on your front garden watching Zac cycle around when you hear his front door open. You don’t look his way, but you tense with expectation. Zac hasn’t noticed Jungkook yet, he’s still happily going in the circle you’d allowed him to, from pavement pausing to checking the silent road for a car, crossing to the other side and going around. He’s babbling about something, shouting about being chased by a dinosaur as he whizzes around.

There are three footsteps before they go silent. And you prepare for whatever he’s about to say.

It’s been close to two weeks now and while he’s been doing small but thoughtful gestures, you have successfully put off talking to him. You’ve passed him in the street a couple of time, but every time have managed with a nod and a hello, the greeting you’d wished was normal for the two of you.

He doesn’t say anything this time though, just stands wherever it is he’s stopped. You fight the urge to look at him, foot tapping on the floor as you fight to keep your eyes on Zac.

Your restrain is only so strong. When you look over your shoulder he’s already staring right at you.

Your heart stutters. Your foot stops it’s tapping. He doesn’t look angry or sad, in fact there’s a small smile on his lips. His attire is much the same as you always see, an oversize shirt with sleeves that go to his elbow, letting you see his arm full of tattoos and skinny black jeans. He’s stood on his side of the drive; you can’t even accuse him of trespassing. The only thing you could possibly tell him is that he’s being creepy. But even that would be a lie.

“Hey,” his smile widens now you’re looking at him.

You don’t reply, can barely manage a smile. Every time before now you’ve been on your way in or out. You had an excuse for a quick escape. Now, sat on your front garden, you feel trapped.

“You alright?”

And yet, Jungkook still isn’t pushing you. However big a dick he’s been or might be, he’s never forced you to speak to him. Maybe you’re the one being a bigger dick. Maybe speaking to him won’t be as bad as you think. Maybe you’ll actually like whatever it is he wants to tell you.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, Zac beats you to it.

“Jungkook!”

You wince at the name screamed across the street. It’s not the volume that causes your reaction but the pure joy in which the name is said.

You’re still focused on Jungkook’s face, trying to conceal your reaction as he looks over at Zac with a wider smile when you hear it.

A crash. Metal scraping along tarmac. Silence for a second and then a scream, the noise so much louder than the name he shouted mere seconds ago.

Eyes wide, heart pounding, your head whips away from Jungkook in the direction of the noise. Zac must have turned too soon, distracted by the sight of Jungkook he’d lost control of his bike and left the pavement too soon, only to crash and fall off the curb.

You shoot to your feet, your focus solely on your crying son who has a bike now on top of him and is calling out for you. Time seems to slow. Your feet don’t move fast enough. Zac is too far away. And even though you run faster than you ever have, you still don’t make it before Jungkook. He’s pulling the bike off your son, trying to sooth him when you get there.

You swallow the tightness in your throat, the fear creeping up your chest, as you look at your scraped up son.

“Mummy,” he wails, eyes landing on you, tears streaming down his face as blood oozes in the cuts on his palms and knees.

You reach out for him, but again, Jungkook is too fast. He lifts Zac into his arms as if he weighs nothing and then he's ever so carefully handing him over.

“It’s ok, baby,” you hold him to your chest, hand soothing his head. “You’re ok. It’s just a little cut.”

But it’s more than that. It’s the shock of the accident, it’s more than a little cut and for you, it’s the fear that it could have been a lot worse. What if a car was coming down the road when it happened? What if he’d landed differently? What if he’d hit his head? You shouldn’t have been so focused on Jungkook. You shouldn’t have let Zac cycle around all on his own, he’s still so young. You should have –

“Come on,” a warm, steady hand squeezes your shoulder. “Let’s get you two inside and cleaned up.”

You look at Jungkook, your own tears welling in your eyes. As if sensing your rising panic, Jungkook’s expression changes and the hand on your shoulder moves to your lower back. He adds a small amount of pressure and is steering you in the direction of your house.

You let him guide you. Your feet, your body, everything but Zac in your arms and Jungkook’s hand on your back cease to exist. Mind racing about what you need to do you don’t realise Jungkook’s led you into your living room until his hand leaves your back. Eyes snapping to his already retreating body, he says nothing.

Panic still rooted in you; it takes you a second to react.

You need to calm Zac down. You need to clean his wounds. You need wipes, plasters and a blanket and hot bottle of milk. You need to –

“You need to calm down,” Jungkook says lightly as he comes back. “You can’t help anyone in this state.”

Hand back on your shoulder he guides you once again, this time until the back of your knees hit the sofa and then you’re sat. You look over Zac’s shoulder to see Jungkook kneeling before you, supplies in his arms. He has a hard look on his face, one that tells you to pull yourself together. You give him a small nod as you twist Zac around to face Jungkook, his arms tighten around your neck and your heart breaks a little.

“We’re ok, aren’t we Zac?” Jungkook says lightly. “Let’s have a look at that cut.”

You swallow as you watch Jungkook’s hand and eyes go to Zac’s cut knee. He waits a second and then lets out a loud, exaggerated gasp. Zac’s head pulls out of the crook in your neck to look at Jungkook and his wide eyes. Tears are still falling down his face, but the reaction has stopped the sobs.

“Oh Zac,” Jungkook says in another dramatic tone. You know he’s joking, you just worry that Zac doesn’t know that and Jungkook’s going to do the opposite of what he’s hoping. “I think you might survive. You know why?”

Zac’s little head shakes and you can only watch as Jungkook completely takes control of the situation.

“Because you’re being so brave. I mean look at you, I don’t know anyone braver,” Jungkook’s eyes dart up to you, a small smile now playing on his face at whatever look he’s seen on your face. “Don’t you agree, mummy?”

It takes you a second, mind scrambled, but you squeeze your hands on Zac’s shoulders. “So brave.”

“See,” Jungkook says. “Now, shall we have a look at cleaning you up? You have to be extra brave for me though, and if you promise me you will, then maybe after we can have some chocolate ice cream.”

Zac head nods and Jungkook smiles widely at him. You watch as Jungkook mutters how amazing your son is being while he cleans him up, he even makes him giggle at one point.

You stroke your hand over his head and try not to let your mind spiral. Jungkook is being so good and while you have no doubt that he would never let anything that may be happening between you get between him and Zac, it’s something wholly different to see. You’re not sure what you would have done had he not been there. And while you could pin some of the blame on him, not a single part of you wants to.

You’ve treated him like crap. Ignored him when all he wanted to do was talk. And yet he’s still here, acting as if everything is ok. That doesn’t seem like something the guy you’ve been imagining in your head would do. You’ve been way too harsh.

When Zac’s all cleaned up, you do as promised. While you help him change into cleaner, less cut, clothes, Jungkook finds him some ice cream. By the time he’s all tucked up watching Moana, there’s a bit more life in his face.

You don’t say anything as you leave him to it and head to the kitchen, and you don’t say anything when Jungkook follows you. Silently you flick the kettle and pull two mugs towards you.

“Can we talk?”

It’s what he’s been asking for days, in that same unexpecting tone. You’re in no doubt that if you said you didn’t want to talk, however hard Jungkook may find that, he’d still respect your wishes.

You make him wait a little longer now. Put a tea bag in each mug before pouring the just boiled water over them. When you twist Jungkook’s leaning against your counter, the portrait of indifference, though his eyes tell a different story as they bore into you.

“What do you want to say Jungkook?” You still have to force the words out.

He seems to relax while tense all at the same time. He takes a step towards you and looks as if he’d take another before thinking better and stopping. It’s as if now, finally given the chance, he’s not quite sure what to say. Or maybe he just doesn’t know where to start.

“I’ve already been through the whole what you saw wasn’t what it looked like thing. But you never let me carry on,” he pauses, as if expecting you to stop him again now. When you don’t, he carries on. “The reason I wanted to clear things up is because I don’t want you thinking of me that way or thinking that I was for some reason using you or Zac. I really like you Y/N. It wasn’t just a fling for me, I thought you got that?”

Clearly you didn’t. You’d hoped, sure, but the minute there was even the smallest of hints to say any different, you’d jumped on it. Jungkook seems to read that even though you don’t say anything.

“Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

You shrug feeling awkward, but Jungkook waits for you to say it verbally. “Well, because I’m me and I have a son and a really messy life.”

Jungkook’s lips twitches at the edges. “You know I love Zac too, right?”

“Playing in the street is something wholly different to going out with his mum.”

“You make it sound like I’m a kid too,” he laughs. “But of course I get that.”

“He’s not always happy and playful.”

“I think we just established that.”

“Yeah, but he’s hard work and needy and rowdy.”

“Where’s the downside here?”

“Jungkook,” you warn but he just laughs and takes another step towards you, now close enough to grasp your hands and lift them between your bodies.

“I honestly get it. You two are a package deal. That doesn’t put me off.”

You struggle, look at your hands laced together. You don’t pull away from him, but you also don’t fall into his arms. Something is still hold you back.

“What is it?” Jungkook encourages.

You take a breath and then look up into his eyes. “What if you don’t always feel that way? What if one day you decide it is too hard and isn’t worth it and just leave?”

He detangles one of his hands with yours so he can reach up to cup your cheek. His eyes look so soft now, though his features look hard and set with whatever thoughts he’s thinking.

“I would never just leave you two,” he says, thumb moving over your jaw. “Listen, I can’t promise anything about the future, maybe we won’t work and if we don’t I wouldn’t just up and leave you and Zac – I live next door, I wouldn’t be able to get very far,” he tries to lighten the mood and when you let out a small laugh, he looks happy that he succeeded. “But what if we did work? What if this is it? What if we’re meant to be together? Won’t you at least give it a try?”

You can see the hope swimming in his eyes, can see the desire and the truth behind every word he’s spoken. He really means it. He wants to be with you and he doesn’t care that you’re a single mum with an over enthusiastic child, that hasn’t put him off.

And you know he’s right. You’re pushing him away on what if’s and though you may not work out, should that be enough to stop you from having happiness in the here and now?

Jungkook patiently waits the few seconds for you to mull it over, but really you’ve been a sucker all along. You wouldn’t have been able to deny him for much longer, no matter what happened.

“Ok,” you finally say and watch as Jungkook’s whole face lights up.

“Ok?” He repeats, unbelieving.

You giggle and before you can confirm it a second time his lips are on you. Hard and heavy and a whole lot of teeth, it’s not the sexiest kiss you’ve ever had but it’s definitely in your top five, even given the fact it only lasts a second.

Jungkook stays close, his hand still on your jaw, his nose nearly brushing yours, a wide toothy grin on his lips.

“Can I take you out for that meal now then?”

You can’t supress your smile even as you roll your eyes. “I’ll look for a babysitter.”

“No,” he stops you. “I want Zac to come too.”

Your heart stutters, breath caught in your chest. It’s the three of you now and Jungkook already knows how important that is to you.

You lean in to kiss him again before mumbling against his lips. “Ok.”

[battlephase]

The Duelists of the Roses Character Profiles - Lancastrians/The Reds Name: Henry ‘Yugi’ Tudor Deck Leader: Dark Magician Location: Brest, France Pre-Duel Dialogue: “So you’ve finally come to face me, Duelist. I hope you’re as good as they say. Because the better the duelist, the better my game!” Player Win Dialogue: “I lose... Know you this! Although the Rose Cards are lost to me, I shall not falter from my cause! On the graves of my Celtic ancestors, I swear that I will one day rule over all of England!” Name: Simon McMooran Deck Leader: N/A Location: Stonehenge Notes: The druid that summons the Duelist. Pre-Duel Dialogue: N/A Player Win Dialogue: N/A

Name: Tea (Elizabeth of York) Deck Leader: Dancing Elf Location: Winsor, England Pre-Duel Dialogue: “The Rose Duelist! You dared to betray the hopes of Prince Yugi! I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget! Player Win Dialogue: “I guess I lost... It pains me to know that I lacked the strength to protect my lord and love...”

Name: Thomas ‘Tristan’ Grey Deck Leader: Karbonala Warrior Location: London, England Pre-Duel Dialogue: “Hold it! You’re the one they call the Duelist, right? If you wanna go any further you’ll have to face me and my ‘crab walker’ strategy!” Player Win Dialogue: “I don’t believe it! You beat the crab outta me!”

Name: Lady Margaret ‘Mai’ Beaufort Deck Leader: Harpie Lady Location: Canterbury, England Notes: It was Mai’s idea to summon the Duelist to help defeat the Rose Crusaders. Pre-Duel Dialogue: “So you’re the one who betrayed those who summoned you. I guess I’ll have to show you the error of your ways!” Player Win Dialogue: “Losing to the likes of you makes my skin crawl! You shall not be so lucky when you reach the continent, for Yugi and his followers are a force to be reckoned with!” Name: Mako Deck Leader: Kairyu-Shin Location: Dover, England Notes: A mercenary from Bretagne hired by the Lancastrians to prevent the Duelist from crossing to France. Pre-Duel Dialogue: “If you’re looking for a boat to take you to the continent, climb aboard! [...] Alright, landlubber! If you want to reach the continent you’ll have to face me in a duel! Me? My name is Mako, card mercenary of Bretagne! At sea you’re in my element! I’ve been waiting for you to cross my path. Defeat me and I will deliver you to the shores of Boulogne. I’ve nothing against you, but I’ve been paid well to ensure you never reach the continent, and I intend to keep my end of the bargain! As I told you, the sea is my element. You haven’t got a chance!” Player Win Dialogue: “Argh! You are something else! I never dreamed I’d lose a duel on the sea! I guess a promise is a promise. I’ll deliver you to the shores of Boulogne.” Name: Christopher ‘Joey’ Urswick Deck Leader: Flame Swordsman Location: Amiens, France Pre-Duel Dialogue: “I’m Joey, Duelist! I believe you’ve been looking for me. In England I am known as Christopher Urswick, but I’ll be remembered as the slayer of the Rose Duelist!” Player Win Dialogue: “It looks like I underestimated you...” Name: John ‘Shadi’ Morton Deck Leader: Millennium Golem Location: Paris, France Pre-Duel Dialogue: “At last we meet, Duelist. You have soiled the roots of justice with your betrayal! Your mind lacks the seeds of truth! I judge you unworthy and will punish you here and now! Should the power of your mind prove weak, you are destined to fall before me!” Player Win Dialogue: “It would seem that all is lost... but such is not the case! I’ve only just begun! Do you think you’ve power enough in your mind to face me?!” Name: Jasper Dice ‘Solomon’ Tudor Deck Leader: Exodia The Forbidden One Location: Le Mans, France Pre-Duel Dialogue: “I’m Jasper Dice Tudor! I will show you the true meaning of power!  Player Win Dialogue: “You have beaten me, but I doubt you’ll survive a duel with my nephew, Yugi!” Name: Jack 'Bakura’ Cade (Mortimer) Deck Leader: Dark Plant Location: Rennes, France Pre-Duel Dialogue: “So, you’re the one they call the Rose Duelist. I am Bakura, a Bretagne card warrior. There was a time when some knew me as Jack Cade or Mortimer. You stand on Celt soil where Card Dueling has been passed on for generations! In particular, my family have mastered the art of the Dark Duel. Well... shall we begin?” Player Win Dialogue: “No! No way! I warn you! Your next field of battle will be your last! Prepare to meet your maker!”

[hertzwritings]

An Arrangement, cahpter 18

A/N: I’ve hurt my own feelings with this story. Fun fact, when I started this series, I very much intended it to be fluff and smut and not much else. And then I kind of… Happened. Whoops. But!!! I know I said there’s only 20 chapters total, which is sort of the truth – because I’m planning an alternative ending AND 2 sets of drabbles (both sets around 5 drabbles each) to correspond with the canon and alternative ending.

Feedback feeds the soul and requests are always open – anything goes!

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Warnings: Language, (/hopeful) angst

Wordcount: 2.492

Previous chapter

Chapter 18: The ghost of you

Henry

July

He groaned and glanced at his reflection; he knew he was just a shell of a man at this point.

It had been a month since she had walked away from him, tears in her eyes and bags in hand, to leave him with whatever taste was in his mouth. He didn’t know what to call it. Karma, maybe.

He pulled his eyes away from the man, he didn’t recognize in the mirror, and straightened up, drawing a deep breath and turned to Kal, who laid down next to him. “Okay?” He asked, holding his arms around and looked to the dog on the floor. Kal simply huffed and turned his away from him. “Not you, come on.” He muttered at the dog, who clearly had pledged allegiance to the woman, who had left a month ago. “I’m sad too, buddy. It’s not my choice, we just must live with it.” Kal whined once and looked at Henry. “Yeah. It was her decision, and I can and will respect it. She didn’t…” He gulped once. “She wanted something else, bud.” He bent down and scratched Kal’s ear. Kal almost sighed. Henry echoed it.

He wished he could have convinced her to stay. To make her see exactly what he felt, feel what he felt, but he was not in the business of trying to force someone to stay. That was why he removed the contract. If she wanted something else, something he couldn’t give her, that was okay – his heart was shattered beyond repair, and he almost relished in the feeling. At least he knew he could feel. At times, he had been convinced he felt nothing, but this?

This tore him in half. He only needed to close his eyes and he remembered her, the way the left side of her lips curled upwards before the right, when she smiled. The way she looked under him. The way, she had spoken his name right before leaving. The unsaid things lingering on her lips as she turned away from him one final time.

Yes, he remembered everything.

He walked to the hallway and grabbed his jacket before looking at Kal. “Be nice.” He instructed, but Kal merely huffed once and trotted to the kitchen. Henry sighed and followed him, finding the dog-sitter, Peter, already on the couch. “It won’t be long; I think I should be back around nine.” Peter nodded. “No worries, man, just text if it’s going to run late. Got a hot date.” Henry nodded absentmindedly. “Alright. Call me if anything happens.” He said with a forced smile, before kissing the big dog and turning to leave. “Hey, where’s your girl? I thought she was going to be here.” Peter called out. Henry stopped and an iron fist had his heart. He turned his head. “Not my girl anymore.” He simply said. “Tough luck, man. She seemed nice.”

“She was.”

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

´The car-ride to Ben’s house proved lonely and thought-provoking; he normally didn’t mind the quiet, but now it didn’t feel relaxing or mindful. It was an empty space reminding him of how it felt to have his hand resting on her thigh and the way, her breath hitched. His head felt heavy and his heart heavier, as if he had added weight to it. At night, he wondered if she felt the same.

He knew that it would be best to just forget her, let her live the way she wanted to, but it was as if the world knew how much he longed for her. The skies, the trees, that whispered sorrowful lullabies at night, the sea, waving at him from the distant shores. Everything was her. He heard her voice in the gentle wind, smelled her perfume in the wildflowers in front of his beach house – which he had pulled straight from the ground as soon as he realized – and he felt her smile as the sun warmed his skin.

Love was short, but forgetting would be long, he finally agreed with himself. Maybe it wouldn't be worth it to forget. It would be better, he thought as he turned down the street to Ben’s house, to remember and feel the pain. Because then at least, she’d be present somewhere in him.

As he stopped the engine in front of the house, he sighed and closed his eyes, willing the nausea and hurt to go, hide behind a fake smile and laughter. He would deal later, for now, he was going to act.

He stepped out and the smell of the barbeque hit instantly, the voices chattering following and growing louder, as he neared the gate leading to the garden. “Hey, there he is!” Ben’s voice was loud and full of mirth as he jogged to Henry, hugging him with one arm.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Henry grinned as he got a good look at Ben, who was wearing an apron with the text Daddio of the Patio on it – Ben raised his eyebrow at him and looked very confused. “What are you talking about? This is my lucky apron! I never fuck up beef wile cooking with this!” he grinned and patted Henry on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about Y/N. That’s fucking tough, man.” Ben said in a somber voice. Henry nodded once, not really in the mood for talking about her. “Yeah.” Ben looked as if he wanted to say something, but he bit his tongue, leading Henry to the cooler, that stood next to the group of people a little way into the garden. Jason, Ezra, and Gal were all laughing and yelled their hellos as Henry came up and they each took turns hugging him, before someone – Ezra, most likely – handed Henry a beer. He took it gratefully and sat down in a chair with a groan. Jason sat down in front of him and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, spill it. What did you do?” Henry sighed and took a sip. “What do you mean?” Jason rolled his eyes. “Are you kiddin’? What do I mean…” He said, mocking Henry’s tone. “You know what I mean, asshole. How did you fuck it up?” Gal sat next to Jason and looked expectantly at Henry. Ezra grinned at him and sat down on the other side of Jason. “Yup, you gotta spill it.” Henry rolled his eyes. “Nothing to say. We wanted different things, and…” He trailed off, the lie sour on his tongue. “Bullshit.” Gal’s accented voice was angry. “She wanted you.” “They’re not wrong, y’know. We all saw it at the premiere.” Ben interjected, a spatula in hand. “I’m not going to tell you what’s right or wrong for you, but… That woman would have derailed trains for you.” Ezra looked confused and looked at Ben with a frown. “That’s the weirdest analogy you could’ve come up with. I like it.” He turned back to Henry. “He’s right. You were into her. I’ve never seen such a big man look so much like a puppy before.” Jason laughed, his deep voice filling out the garden. “And you had to go and fuck it up. Spill it.” He finally said, pointing an accusatory finger at Henry. “Fuck…” He emptied his beer and sat the empty bottle on the grass. “Give me another.” He asked, and another beer was placed in his hand. The condensation rolled in drops from the bottleneck as Henry stared intensely at it.

“The, er, relationship wasn’t real.” He mumbled. “Excuse you?” Ben said with wide eyes, sitting down. “It was, at first, a PR-thing. We met at a bar, it wasn’t… Supposed to be more than that, but some asshole paparazzi got pictures, and well…” He sighed. “Anyway, it was contractual. The contract ended, so did the relationship.” “You’re the dimmest man alive.” Gal said exasperated. “Contract or not, you were in love. Still is, based on the rings under your eyes and the thousand-yard stare.” Henry sighed deeply. “I, erhm… She overheard something she shouldn’t have. She took it to heart. As she should’ve, I, er, just… I didn’t want her to stay if she didn’t want to.” Jason rolled his eyes and pointed his beer at Henry. “And you just… Stopped fighting, or what?” “She didn’t want a fight, she wanted out.” Henry answered. “The fuck she did. She was head over heels, pal, and you literally let your own guilt get in your way.” “She was right, though. She…” He fiddled with the sticker on the beer, tearing it off in tiny bits. “I didn’t know her. We barely knew each other, and we only spent a few months together. That’s not love, that’s infatuation.” Ben sighed.

“Buddy, I love you. You know that, right?” Henry nodded. “But you’re literally the dumbest person on planet earth. You knewher. Still do.” He laid his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “You’ve got every right to beat yourself up, but don’t lie to yourself.” Henry searched the eyes of his friends. “You need to figure out what to do here. I know you are probably thinking that you should stay away, but…” Gal said, shrugging slightly. “I think we all know that you don’t want to do that.” Henry sighed. “What am I supposed to do? She left, she didn’t want this life, and I don’t blame her. I hurt her and… She deserves the sun, moon and stars. I can’t give her that.” Ezra smiled sorrowful at Henry. “Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, a war. Love is growing up, man.” Henry looked at the younger man. “What? I can be wise.” Henry chuckled softly. “Love should be effortless.” Henry muttered. “The it wouldn’t be love.” Gal interjected. Jason groaned and leaned forwards.

“Man, listen to me. You might not think she wants this, but what if you’re wrong? What if? Are you going to wonder your entire life if you could’ve done something different?” “Well, torture is a way of life.” Henry spoke in a monotone voice. They all groaned. “You’re a self-pitying bastard.” Ben said with a shrug. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I am going to say that you’re being a dick and you’re better than that.” Henry sighed.

“Maybe so.”

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

The barbeque went quietly after that, all but a few pointed comments here and there, but Henry wasn’t fully there anymore. His body was screaming at him, as visions of her constantly flooded his brain; her smile, the wind picking up her hair, the way she looked after he had kissed her the last time. It was unbearable. It was as if two parts of him were fighting for the right to rule him; the proper him, the one who kept saying she chose, you need to accept it and the other, more feral part of him, that wanted nothing more than go find her.

He didn’t even know where to start. She might’ve moved, for all he knew. It wasn’t as if he could call her and ask, and he didn’t have the name for the bookstore – all he had were the memories and the pain in him, that weighed him down heavier each day.

As the sun set and the air turned cool, Henry gazed at the starry sky. Ben stood next to him.

“You know, life is funny in this way.” He said. “What way?” Henry asked, not taking his eyes from the sky. He smelled the tobacco from Ben’s cigarette. “Those’ll kill you one day.” He commented. Ben chuckled. “Something has to.” He was quiet for a heartbeat. “Life is funny in this way… Like, you know, you’re here. Hurting. Staring at the same stars you texted me three months ago about, telling me that her eyes reminded you of them.” Henry sighed. “Yeah.” “Listen, I mean it. I won’t bother you about it and won’t ever bring it up again, but you need to sure this is what is the right way to go.” Ben said in a soft voice. “But… You do know her. You love her.” “I shouldn’t.” Henry’s voice cracked slightly. “Maybe not. Maybe you were supposed to love her and lose her. But maybe, just maybe, you were supposed to love her and she was supposed to love you.” Henry didn’t look away from the stars. “I think…” Ben sounded pensive. “I think that loving and letting go can be the same thing. But you gotta learn to separate it, man. You won’t know if you’re supposed to love or let go, until you’ve tried.” “I did, Ben. For a long time.” Henry finally said. “Long enough?” Ben patted his shoulder. “Just food for thought.” Henry nodded. Maybe he was right. Maybe one wasn’t supposed to suffer greatly to love – or lose love, for that matter.

“I’m going to go.” He said finally. Ben nodded. “Sure, man. Let me know if there’s anything I can do, alright?” He nodded, before waving goodbye to the others. He walked slowly to his car, thoughts of her coloring his thoughts a beautiful rosy shade.

-----------

He was barely sleeping, tossing and turning in bed and his dreams of her became more and more frequent; they were all he had now, even the memory of her voice was starting to fade. The fact that he had to pull it from shadows, forcing it to stay at the forefront of his mind, sent him into a frenzy. It wasn’t what he wanted. He never wanted to forget her, much less the way her voice sounded.

Now, all he remembered was her broken voice as she had whispered, I know before leaving – that voice and those words would never disappear. They were branded into his brain, seared into every inch of him. She was supposed to be like a tattoo, in his skin forever, but she was fading. He found old articles about them to see her smile. The interviews, where he could hear her voice just to remember.

One night, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He swung his legs out from the bed, grabbed his shoes and Kal, ushering the big dog into the backseat of his car, while he was muttering to himself. “What the hell am I doing, what am I doing, what…” He muttered, trying to remember where her apartment was. Somewhere downtown, that he was sure about. It was right next to that little sandwich-shop and a florist. It wasn’t much to go off of, but it was better than nothing, so with the signs from the florist and sop in his mind, he drove; the night was dark and silent as he drove, weaving in and out of the light night-time traffic. Kal whined on the backseat.

“We’re going after her, buddy. If it takes me a lifetime, I’ll find her.” Henry said, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

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

TAGLIST:

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[moemammon]

Can we get some hurt/comfort type stuff where the bros catch MC crying?

It's cool if not, drink water and remember that you're a really cool person ♡

"I Saw You Crying.. Are You Okay?" (Feat. The Demon Bros and GN!MC)

(Hurt comfort, angst, and feels of all varieties)

Enjoy❤️

Lucifer

Lucifer

When Lucifer caught you crying the moment you set your school bag down, he knew something was wrong. He likes to be aware of every situation if he's able, so seeing you like this and not knowing what's the matter is... troubling, to say the least.

He watches your demeanor as you slink off to your room, hoping no one stops you on your way there. He's the type to gather information before engaging, but it's not like he can figure anything out like this, so he goes after you.

He finds you curled up into a pitiful ball, sobbing into a pillow. It doesn't take long for his hand to find a place atop your head, gently petting your hair back. Lucifer doesn't speak, instead allowing you to initiate it first.

And whether or not you DO tell him what's wrong, he listens carefully and provides you comfort all the same. He knows that words can't always fix everything, but having someone to confide in can be a comfort.

"I'll stay here for as long as you need me. Ah, my work? Don't worry about that either. I doubt I could get anything done while worrying over you, MC."

Mammon

When Mammon spotted the tears streaking your cheeks, he immediately went into defensive mode. Can you blame him though? He's supposed to be your guardian! He's ready to fuckin FIGHT

And as such, he immediately hurried after you despite you trying to escape to the bathroom. He'll grab your arm, pull you close, and hurry you off to his room before his brothers can steal you

Promptly plops you down on the sofa and drapes his coat over you. He doesn't know what happened, but he wants names. And if that's not the case, he'll quickly calm down to listen to you.

Big bro has had his fair share of letting his baby brothers vent, so he's pretty good at this sort of thing. Actually, he tries his best to help out if he can. He might not be the best at it, but he means well. And he'll try especially hard if it means you'll smile again.

"Hey... look at me, MC. Crying outta nowhere like that... When something's botherin' ya, come to me. If it's enough to make ya cry, I wanna be involved."

Levi

Levi had been through enough to know the difference between eyes that were red form staying up late, and eyes that were red from crying. Sometimes he’d experience both, depending on what he might've been binging.

But in your case, your red eyes were caused by the latter, along with the sniffling you thought you could hide from him when you came into his room and asked if you could watch tv with him. Of course he agreed, and he gathered up his courage so that the moment you came close enough, he could pull you into his arms.

He's no good at stuff like this. He never thought of himself as the type that anyone would come to for comfort, and yet here you were, choosing his room as your sanctuary. There's no way he could deny you after you came so far!

Levi's definitely a good listener since he's not sure how to handle giving advice, and does his best to dish out distractions. Wanna play a game? He recently got a snack crate shipped in, full off all sorts of sweets! Wanna try some? And he just ordered a super cute sheep plush if you feel like hugging it. Or... you could hug him too, if you want.

"I know that.. things can be pretty overwhelming sometimes. And it probably doesn't help that you're away from your world. But if it's any comfort, y-you can always come here. You're my Henry-... no, you're my friend. So I want to make sure you're okay."

Satan

Satan caught sight of you scrubbing your eyes when you thought no one was watching, and would've assumed you got dust in your eye if he didn't notice how red your face was.

And the way you suddenly closed the book in your hands, put it in a random spot, and rushed off. You knew how Lucifer could be when it came to the organization of the library, so there's no way you'd risk a lecture over a simple mistake.

He hung back for a bit instead of pursuing you, because he knew how beneficial a little alone time could be when one was upset. But that doesn't mean he won't text you to see if you're alright.

When you reply, and grant him permission to see you after he asks for it, Satan arrives with extra blankets, herbal tea, and obviously, a few books. He'll ask if you want to talk about it, but if not, that's fine too.

"They say lavender chamomile tea works wonders for stress relief, and I can attest to that. I... don't know what's on your mind, and I know it can be difficult to put your feelings into words at times, but I'm here, even if you need to yell."

Asmo

When Asmo heard your sobs echoing from the bathroom, he either assumes that you A), poked yourself in the eye during your skincare routine he made you begin, or B), something was wrong.

And from the harsh sound of your cries, he figured it was the latter. There's no way he would let you endure any hardships alone! Asmo to the rescue!

He's quick to politely knock on the door, but doesn't wait for you to allow him access when he's already got it open and closes it behind himself. He gets one good look at you, and he's already cooing.

The boy cups your face and peppers it with little kisses, wiping your tears, smoothing your hair back, and ushering you over to sit in the side of the tub, so he can hug you tight.

"Darling, are you okay?? Look at the state of you... Shall I pamper your worries away with a nice bath? And when that's over, I plan to spoil you until you can't think of anything other than my beautiful face! I'll do anything to make you smile again."

Beel

Beel intended to go to your room to share a new flavor of potato chips with you, but instead was met with the sound of your shaking sobs from behind your closed door. That's all it takes for him to forget about the bags of chips in his arms.

They're discarded to the ground and he hesitates near your door for a moment, worry welling up within him. But Beel won't let you cry for long, because he's already entered your room and is sheepishly approaching your bed.

Without a word, the big ol bear gathers you into his arms for a tight hug, leaning into your shoulder and exhaling. You both stay in that position for a long, long while until your crying has calmed.

He pulls back to wipe your tears and snot, and gives you a worried look. What could've had you crying like this? Were you sad about something? You didn't seem physically hurt... Was someone mean to you? Was it Mammon-

"MC... please don't cry. I'll stay with you as long as you need me to, and I won't let go of you. If you need to hit something, you can hit me. Should I stay here for the night? ....Belphie won't mind. I don't want you to be alone."

Belphie

Belphie didn't know why you weren't answering his texts, but while he normally wouldn't mind, he was desperate to have your attention. Or rather, he really wanted to hug you.

And it seemed you would need just that when he entered your room to find you all curled up under your blankets, hiccuping away the aftermath of a hard crying session. What could've had you in such a state was beyond him, but it bothered him to no end.

So Belphie did what he does best and invaded your space, curling up next to you to lay down and pull you into his arms. He doesn't say anything, only your soft sobs breaking the silence between you.

His hand gently rubs your back when he feels you shake, and he squeezes you a little tighter when you sniffle. Eventually, he looks down at you and moves the blankets from your face, his expression soft.

"...Feeling a little better now? I can't stand seeing you so upset. If someone hurt you, I'll take care of it. If not, I'll let you cry in my arms for as long as you need. And maybe you'll feel better after a nap, hm? Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

[dontfeeltoohot]

Sicktember Day 26 - Tickle in Throat ALT Cuddles on the Couch - N/A - Season 3

“Mr. Munson, if you would see me after class,” Mallory Lindham’s voice rings out near the end of English 4. 

A few students look over at him, mostly the new ones who don’t know this is his second time taking this stupid class, the ones who think he might just look slightly older for his age. Eddie nods, caught between feeling annoyed and simply tired of the bullshit he gets from this school. He’s acutely aware he’s seen as a ‘problem’ to most the Hawkins High faculty, and he’s not going to try and dim who he is just because they think he’s too loud or distracting or stupid. 

The issue isn’t that he’s stupid. He understands science and all that nerdy shit that no one except engineers use. He understands all about history and industrialization. His best class is fucking Latin 4, the class he’s somehow managed to be able to take again even though he’d aced it on his first try (with only a little help from Wayne). 

No, the issue is that English is fucking hard, math is confusing, and teachers won’t listen, so he spends the classes doodling and writing lyrics and coming up with new campaigns instead of paying attention. He’s tried that already and look where it got him- another year at Hawkins High. 

When the bell rings, Eddie fully intends on brushing by Mrs. Lindham and stalking out to his car for a smoke. Instead, she makes direct eye contact with him and the slender man holds back, fiddling with his rings as the teacher waits for all the other teens to clear out. 

“Unfortunately, Mr. Munson,” the woman’s voice is high and grating in an uncomfortable way, making Eddie bite his lip. “I can’t allow you to repeat the same book as you did last year for the lit project. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is somewhat below the reading level, but I was generous last year. This year I need you to pick something a little more age appropriate.” 

The long haired man swallows and shifts, twisting his skull ring around his finger. 

“Okay, what if I did one of the Lord of the R-“ 

“Mr. Denison already informed me of your project from junior year,” the woman cuts in.

Feeling himself get more and more tense, the musician blows out a breath.

“This is bullshit. Why does it matter if I reread a book?” 

“Mr. Munson! We’re looking to challenge you, and doing the same thing over and over isn’t doing you any good.” 

“Look, I get it, alright? But we both know I suck at reading, and this is already my second year, can’t you-“ 

“This is your second year because you flunked this class, refused to show up to other classes half of last year, and when you did show up you didn’t take anything seriously. Maybe this year will be different, but saying you’re not good at reading isn’t an excuse. If you’d like, I can find a book for you to read.” 

Jaw clenching, Eddie only nods, knowing if he tries to speak even more profanities will drop out. She looks at a piece of paper, eyes running down until she points to a few words on the page. 

“The Turn of the Screw. You’ll enjoy it. It’s a gothic novel with suspense and some horror elements. It’s not terribly long either.” 

“Fine.” 

With that, Eddie shoulders his bag and turns, walking out and slamming the large wooden door behind him. The sound echoes in the now empty hallway. Trudging to his van, he notices Harrington and Hargrove talking, but he ignores it, instead focusing on the headache that’s planted itself on the right side of his head. All of this is fucking bullshit. 

By the time he’s back at the trailer, Eddie is shivering, chilled to the bone without a working heater in his van. He’ll need to fix it Saturday, when he has time. The quick trip to the library was uneventful, going in with one thing on his mind, coming out carrying a small book by Henry James. He hopes to god the English teacher is right and it’s not as bad as he’s expecting. 

Sighing and rubbing his face, he notices Wayne is already gone, no doubt getting dinner at Benny’s before a long shift. Sniffling due to the cold and his runny nose, the long haired man throws his backpack and the book he’s borrowed onto the couch, not bothering to check and see if it’s landed on its intended target. 

After a shower in which he spends far too long under the spray, Eddie changes into clean black sweatpants and an old Dio tee, then yanks on a deep grey sweatshirt. The hood is up, attempting to conserve and warmth he may have left in his body, the heat from the shower dissipating quickly. Grabbing the blanket off of his bed, the extra one from his closet, and the one from the couch, he makes a small nest to bury himself in. He cuddles into the thick fabrics, imagining what it would be like to have someone else to cuddle with before finally opening the copy of the book, struggling to read the words correctly.