#holding onto this job until i become physically unable to walk again

[periodically-puzzled]

impossible level of empowerment in waiting tables while androgynous. my tables start arguing in hushed tones about what to call me the minute i walk away. older folks confidently assign me gendered language and their eyes widen as i give them a puzzled expression back. i didn't think nbs ever got to experience this kind of passing

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 6

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ;

Masterlist

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Part 6 -

49 days of camp left

“The thing I don’t understand is,” said JJ, taking a sip of his coffee several days later at breakfast, “How is everyone so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, everyone except for us,” said Caroline.

“And Topper,” mumbled Sarah.

Her three friends all looked up at her, eyes wide.

“What?” she looked back at them, eyes equally as wide in confusion, “Why’d you think he’s been moping around camp, face looking like a slapped ass?”

“Sarah, why didn’t you say anything at the campfire?” Caroline asked angrily.

“Um, I did,” defended Sarah.

“Um, no you didn’t,” clapped back JJ, getting visibly annoyed.

John B nodded and mumbled quietly, “They’re right, you didn’t…”

“Not now, John B,” snapped Sarah at him, turning towards her other friends, “What do you mean I didn’t?”

“When we asked you about what Topper said, you literally said ‘oh nothing of importance, he doesn’t care about the bitch either’ and then you went back to glaring at those girls goggling at John B,” said JJ.

Sarah scoffed, “I was only glaring because they refuse to listen to me and only do whatever he says,”

“That’s beside the point, Sarah,” sighed JJ, “If you weren’t too busy doing that, perhaps you’d have mentioned that Topper doesn’t buy the whole boyfriend story either, which could mean that we’ve got an ally amongst all of these lunatics!”

“Sorry,” Sarah shrugged, “I guess I just got distracted,”

Caroline shook her head sighing, “Anyway, it’s almost 9,” she looked at JJ, “What’s on our schedule for today?”

“Funny you ask,” JJ responded, “We’ve actually got swimming until 11, which means the kids have swimming until 11 and we can just chill by the lake,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “If you know what I mean,”

In the days since camp began, the whole Madison thing had died down and since there was no new occurrences and, well, no new leads, Caroline and JJ decided to put their primary focus on their teens. They’d made a small rule that every time their schedule indicated that they’ve got an activity where their physical participation is not directly required, Caroline would sneak some whiskey in their thermoses and they would quietly drink it in secret, just to spice up their day.

So far Caroline was doing a pretty good job at hiding her crush on JJ, which was somehow becoming bigger by the day. For some reason everything that JJ did was attractive. Whether it was him running, or teaching the boys how to tie a noose, or eating (pretty messily) his food, or not to mention swimming practice when he was required to get naked – Caroline could just stare at him all day. She was somewhat happy about their newfound tradition of taking over some of their daily tasks while tipsy because the alcohol was somewhat helping her seem more confident and less shy.

Caroline tied her long brunette hair in a Dutch braid and smeared the tiniest bit of mascara on her lashes, just to seem effortlessly pretty, of course. She adjusted the straps of her swimsuit and grabbed her and JJ’s prefilled thermoses before heading out to meet the boy and their group in front of the camper’s cabin.

“There she is,” said JJ, unable to hide his excitement, “We ready to go?”

The campers all agreed and they made their way down towards the lake, where Caroline and JJ sat at one of the benches while their campers hurried into the water.

“Now, now, Teens 2,” said JJ after them, not too bothered about sounding strict, “Usually our timetable says swimming, but since we’re all grown ups here, we can all do whatever we want, as long as we don’t go too far away from me and Carrie’s eyesight, alright?”

Everyone agreed and JJ sat back down next to Caroline, who handed him his thermos.

“I’ve gotta give it to you, Maybank,” she said, taking a sip of the spicy liquor in her flask, “You’ve got a way with kids,”

JJ smiled down at her, taking a sip too, “I mean they’re hardly kids, C,” he said, “Besides, I try my best, I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you,”

That blush that Caroline was all too familiar with crept back onto her cheeks, “In front of me?” she repeated, surprised.

“Yeah,” nodded JJ as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t see any other pretty girls around here,”

Caroline looked in the opposite direction, too shy to look at JJ, as she took another rather large sip of her drink, “JJ…”

“What? Can’t a guy give you a compliment?” he smirked, “Hey, come on now, we’re in this together, besides… your mom did say -”

Just as Caroline was about to turn towards JJ with a panicked look in her eyes, fearing what exactly her mom had said to him, two of their campers began screaming their names, diverting both of their attentions.

“Carrie! JJ! You’ve gotta come see this!”

JJ shot up, helping Caroline up as well, as they ran towards the dock. Bobby and Eli, the two campers who had called out for them, were hastily swimming back to shore.

“What is it?” Caroline asked, worry filling up her nerves.

“We found something dope!” said Eli, reaching the dock, “But we can’t reach it without you guys’ help,”

“What did you find?” asked JJ.

“That,” Bobby pointed in the direction they’d just swam from. There, a good distance away, in the middle of the body of water, stood an abandoned-looking stilt house.

“The old lake house,” JJ and Caroline said in unison.

“That’s just an old building, it’s been there forever and there’s literally nothing in it,” explained JJ, his nerves calming down after the initial jump scare, “Trust me, we’ve looked,”

Bobby rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on, you can’t be serious,” he moaned, “That place looks wicked!”

“Yeah, if you watch a lot of horror movies,” said Caroline, “JJ’s right, there’s nothing in there. I’ve been numerous times, it looks way cooler in your imagination, believe me. Reality is underwhelming,”

Eli crossed his arms, “If it’s so underwhelming why don’t you wanna take us there?”

JJ sighed, “Eli, taking you there would require taking the boats, which we’re not allowed to do unless it’s on our schedule, which it’s not, and if we take you there, we’d have to take everyone there, and -”

“Take everyone where?” came Jennie, another one of their campers’, voice suddenly.

“Yeah, JJ,” more campers gathered around the dock, “Where are you taking us?”

JJ and Caroline sighed in defeat as they shared a defeated look, making Bobby and Eli high five in victory.

“Change of plans, kids,” said JJ finally, giving in, “Swimming’s cancelled, looks like we’re going to be learning how to row today,”

_________________________________________________________

“You sure about this?” JJ grabbed Caroline’s hand as she was stepping off the boat and onto the back deck of the abandoned stilt house.

Caroline turned towards him and gave him a reassuring smile, “It’ll be just like the old days,” she said, her tone sounding promising.

JJ followed her onto the deck and they helped their campers tie their little boats on the deck’s cleats.

“Looks like y’all were really paying attention during our noose tying workshop,” JJ said proudly as he double-checked that all the boats were securely tied, “I’m gonna make sure to bring that up to Miss P and we might have a shot of winning at the Will-all-hail banquet,”

Caroline snorted at the name, “So tacky…”

“Come on guys, follow me and Carrie and watch your steps,” JJ signaled, catching everyone’s attention, “This place is crazy old so be careful! One wrong step and you may end up in the water,”

Carefully, the group entered the old creaky building. It was all too familiar to Caroline and JJ, the smell of mold and condensation hitting their nostrils as the single dusty dark room they had secretly lurked into numerous times as kids presented itself in front of them. Part of Caroline had always secretly wished for the old lake house to serve as a passageway to a parallel universe, or to hold some great big secret, or even to be inhabited by the not-so-friendly ghost of whoever built it back in the day, however unsurprisingly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet again. The room was empty, other than the numerous spider webs which decorated almost every corner and crease.

“There you go,” Caroline said, turning to leave, “Nothing to see here,”

JJ agreed, “As always, underwhelming and empty,”

“If it’s so empty,” spoke one of the campers, “then what’s that?” the teenager pointed in the direction of where there was once a door leading towards the front deck.

Everyone’s heads turned in that direction and sure enough, on one of the old nails sticking out of the door frame, was hung a piece of red fabric, barely noticeable from the inside, let alone from where the shore to camp was.

“Stand back,” said Caroline, slowly stepping forward towards the fabric. She peeped her head through the door hole cautiously, checking if there was anyone on the front deck, holding her breath as she did so. She breathed out in relief once she saw that the coast was clear and analyzed the fabric, “Hey, J, can you come over?”

JJ, half-impressed, half-paralyzed, snapped back to reality as he walked over to the girl who now looked so brave in his eyes, mentally slapping himself for not being a man and volunteering to go instead of her.

“Why does this look familiar?” Caroline said once JJ came over to piece of clothing. It turned out to be a dress.

JJ shrugged, pulling at the material and taking a sniff, “Whoever’s it is was here recently,” he said, “Smell of perfume is fresh,” he sniffed again, “And super strong,” he scrunched his nose, a look of disgust on his face.

Caroline took a sniff too, “Yeah, that smell is so familiar, but where from…” she sniffed again, closing her eyes in an attempt to figure out where she recognized the scent from.

“Probably one of the girls from your cabin,” concluded JJ, “I’d put my money on Jenna Kinley, she seems like the type to sneak around,”

Caroline smirked, “Sounds about right, she was probably up here sneaking around with Barry, I hear her talking about him all the time,” she unhooked the dress from the nail, “I’ll bring it back to her, she must think she’s lost it,”

JJ nodded and they led the campers out of the stilt house and onto shore again. Caroline tucked the dress in her bag along with her thermos and waited until after everyone’s daily activities were over to meet Sarah by the showers and tell her about her and JJ’s scandalous little discovery. Ever since they’d arrived at Camp Willowdale and had their phones taken away for the rest of the summer, the only source of news and gossip was whatever was happening around camp, and since it wasn’t all that much, every little bit of spice counted.

“So how was archery?” she asked Sarah as she folded her underwear and turned the water in her shower on.

Sarah followed in after her, not bothering on going into a neighboring shower stall. They had developed his habit of showering together about three days into camp, with Sarah seemingly having separation anxiety and insisting that “they’ve both got the same bits and pieces” and that how “any guy would be lucky to be in the position Caroline is in,”.

The blonde groaned as she squeezed some of her purple shampoo in her palm, foaming it up and working it into her hair, “Horrible,” she said, “How do you see me with a bow and arrows?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” teased Caroline, mirroring Sarah’s actions and washing her hair.

“Whatever, C,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “How was your swim date with your boyfriend?”

“Okay, first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” said Caroline earning a smug look from Sarah, “And second, you’ll never guess what we found,”

“Oooh, is it the incessant lust you have for each other?” teased Sarah.

“No, it’s better,” said Caroline, ignoring her friend’s words, “We went to the old lake house and we may or may not have found what we believe to be Jenna’s dress just hanging there,” Sarah’s eyes widened at her words, “Yeah, we assume she’s sneaking around with Barry, how fucking scandalous is that?”

“Shut up!” gasped Sarah.

Caroline nodded excitedly, “Right? She’s been yapping about him nonstop and we just put two and two together,”

“Who’d have thought… little miss perfect and Barry,” scoffed Sarah, “D’you have the dress? It’ll be so embarrassing once you give it back to her, I can picture her face already,”

“You bet I do, it’s in my bag,” said Caroline, “Must’ve done the deed recently, it still reeks of her,” she scrunched her nose at the thought of the horrible smell.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “What’re you pulling that face for? Does she smell that bad?”

Caroline shook her head, “It’s her perfume,” she explained, “Smells like what I imagine Miss P’s underwear drawer smelling like,”

Sarah scoffed, “Now you’ve got me intrigued,” she quickly rinsed her hair and body off, hurrying for her towel, “Where’d you say this dress was?”

Caroline nodded her head in the direction of her bag, “Somewhere in my bag,” she said, “But I’m being serious – you’ve been warned,”

As she continued rinsing her hair, Sarah dove her hand into Caroline’s bag, searching for the dress in question. When she finally felt it in her hand, she pulled the piece of clothing out pressing it against her nose to take a sniff. Her eyes widened in horror as realization consumed her.

“Carrie…” she mumbled not loud enough for her friend to look up, “Carrie, this isn’t Jenna’s dress,” she spoke louder.

This time, Caroline looked up at Sarah with a look of confusion in her eyes.

“The perfume you’re talking about,” said Sarah, “It’s Guerlain Shalimar, I’d recognize it anywhere,”

“Your point being…?”

“This perfume doesn’t belong to Jenna,” Sarah turned to look at Caroline, her eyes still wide in horror, “It’s Madison’s,”

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A/N: chapter 6 is upppp!! I hope you like it!! let me know what you think and if you want to be added in the tag list for future chapters, tell me!! xxx

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04

Part 7 here

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

In This Together

For the Anon who requested : Could you write a fic where Draco and his twin (Y/N) have to go back to Hogwarts after the war and now they are the ones being bullied after bullying others for all those years? maybe a lot of angst? 

Angst and a bit of sibling fluff for you! 

 Draco Malfoy x Sister!Reader

You stopped walking as you approached the blank expanse of wall between platforms 9 and 10, your brother was walking ahead of you, and stopped when he no longer felt your presence. You were just standing there, eyes big, a large frown on your face. Draco responded with a frown of his own.

“What’s that matter?” He asked, and you looked away from the wall to gaze up at him. 

“I don’t want to go.” You stated, clinging to your owl’s cage for dear life. Your brother let go of the trolley he was pushing with both of your trunks and beckoned you towards him. You came to him, eyes downcasted. 

“Look at me,” He spoke softly, placing a hand under your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking into his eyes. His face was soft, a look he reserved for only you in moments you were alone. He moved his hand and brushed some of your hair from your face. “It’ll be alright, Y/N.” He promised you, but you couldn’t believe him when you knew even he didn’t believe his words. 

“It’s not going to be how it used to be, everyone.. Everyone knows..” Knew what? You weren’t sure specifically. Knew your family was rotten, knew your father was a death eater up until the moment it no longer served him. He was a coward, and the Malfoy name was tainted with blood. 

“Nothing ever stays the same for long,” He reminded you. “We are Malfoys, we will hold our heads high, and we will triumph. If not today, tomorrow.” He assured and you felt slightly better. That was until someone banged into you, sending you into your brother's chest. Draco grabbed you and looked over your head. A group of 6th year Gyffindor girls past you, sending you withering looks as they smirked and giggled to themselves. 

“Alright traitors?” They asked, all lifting their sleeves and pretending to touch their wands to invisible dark marks. 

“What ever will you do without a master to serve?” They asked, and you winced. Draco glared, putting an arm around your shoulder and turning you away from them, grabbing the trolley again and stalking away, guiding you with him. 

“Ignore them, they’re idiots.” He whispered.

“They’re right,” You muttered mostly to yourself. Draco looked at you and sighed before nodding towards the wall.

“Go first,” You nodded back and held your cage close to your chest as you jogged towards the wall, passing through it like it was air. A moment later and Draco was by your side again. He steered you towards the train, giving your trunks to a worker to load before ushering you onto the train. You walked down the corridor, met by an array of stares, and glares, and whispers. Draco found an empty compartment and pulled you into it, shutting out the rest of the world. 

“This is going to be hell,” You whispered, eyes welling slightly with tears, but you wouldn’t let them fall. He was right, you were a Malfoy and you had to hold your head high, even now. 

“It will be alright. Once were settled in, kids will find something else to occupy themselves with, I assure you.” You sighed, leaning against the window and looking out at all the people milling about and smiling. Nothing ever stays the same for long, you repeated your brother’s words to you as comfort. Even the bad. Nothing ever stays the same for long. 

However, this time, it did. The entire school was out to get you and your brother, at least that’s how it felt. The first week of class a group of Hufflepuffs of all people had cornered your brother, hexing him. He was in the hospital wing for two days, you by his side every moment. And it didn’t get better from there. Wherever you went you were met with glares and snide remarks. 

Between preparing for your NEWT exams, enduring bullying like you’d never experienced before, and battling your brother’s rotten attitude; you were spiralling. So far only Draco had been physically assaulted, but you were constantly on edge, paranoid, watching your own back was hard and you were beginning to think your brother had given up. He wasn’t eating, and judging from the bags under his eyes, he wasn’t sleeping as well. 

You were alone in a 5th floor corridor, sitting on the floor and writing an essay. The common room was becoming too much for you, too many people, too many stares. But you couldn’t go to the library either, without people bothering you with rhetorics on your family and mean words about how pathetic you all were. So you sat, alone, in the hallway. 

Suddenly there were footsteps, and you looked up, seeing the same group of Gryffindors who had shoved you on the first day of school, and they were coming your way. Grinning ear to ear as they came to stop in front of you. 

“Yes?” You asked, trying to hold your head high like your brother always reminded you to, but you had to admit, you were scared and terribly outnumbered. 

“Hello little traitor,” The lead girl greeted you, “Kicked from your own common room? Even the Slytherins are embarrassed by you.” She sneered. You frowned, shaking your head. You didn’t need to explain yourself to this lot.

“No,” You replied simply, “Now kindly leave, I’m busy.”

“Awe, she’s busy.” She came towards you, ripping the parchment from your hands, you stood up, reaching for your wand. 

“Give it back.” 

“No,” She laughed, mocking you. She ripped the parchment into a million little pieces and tossed it into your face, “Stupid cow.” You winced, wand held loosely in your hand. “What are you gonna do about it? Gonna use an unforgivable curse on me?” She asked, and you turned away, picking up your bag to try and walk away but another one of the girls grabbed your strap, pulling you towards her.

“Hey!” You yelled, stumbling and tripping, you fell to your knees and looked up at the group with wide eyes. 

“Awe she’s scared!” 

“Petrificus Totalus” One of them pointed their wand at you and your entire body locked up, causing you to fall and land on your face. They flipped you over and grinned down at you. “You and your shitty family should have gone into hiding.” She informed you, and you couldn’t help but mentally agree. 

“Furnunculus.” Another girl spoke and suddenly you were covered in violently painful boils and pimples, you would have cried out in pain if you weren’t immobilized. 

“Now she looks as rotten as she is on the inside,” One of the girls spoke and they all laughed. Pain shot through your face as one of them kicked you in the nose, you felt the hot blood streaming down your face, but still couldn’t move. There was another set of footsteps from somewhere far away and the girls went running. You laid there, unable to move. The footsteps grew closer, and suddenly broke into a run, and your brother’s face appeared above you, eyes wild and wide. 

“Y/N, Y/N!” He cried, afraid to touch you. He pulled his wand out and spoke the counter curse to unfreeze you. You shot up into a seated position, tears streaming down your face. The boils and broken nose were another story, Draco couldn’t fix those, “I’ve been looking all over for you,” He stated, reaching out to touch your face, causing you to wince in pain, “What happened? We need to get you to the hospital wing.” 

“They ganged up on me, I was writing an essay,” You sobbed and Draco gently wrapped you into a hug, rubbing his hand over your hair, smoothing it down.

“Shh, it’s alright,” But it wasn’t, nothing was alright. “Come along,” He spoke softly, standing up and helping you up as well. He took your bag and slung it over his shoulder, offering you his arm for support. Together you slowly walked to the hospital wing. 

“My goodness!” Madam Pomfrey cried when you came in, “Sit! Sit here!” She motioned towards a bed and Draco helped you towards it. You were thankful she didn’t ask what happened, she probably already knew. “Don’t move, let me get my potions.” Draco nodded and sat beside you on the bed, holding your hand. Pomfrey came back with several bottles and handed you one. 

“This should take care of the boils.” You drank it quickly, gagging on the putrid taste of the thick liquid. You handed the bottle back, Draco never taking his eyes off you. “This is for the pain,” She handed you another bottle, and you drank it. This one tasted slightly better. She took the bottle back and handed you one more, “And a peppering up potion, you look.. Exhausted, my dear.” You thanked her and took it, drinking it quickly. She took her wand out, and reset your nose, causing you to cry out slightly in pain, making your brother wince in sympathy. She handed you a wet rag and you cleaned the blood up. 

“Thanks,” You muttered and she nodded. 

“Of course, darling, you will have to stay the night, maybe two, just until all the boils are gone.” You nodded and Draco thanked her as well. When she left, she pulled the curtains around your bed shut leaving you both alone. You laid down on the small hospital bed, your brother joining, laying beside you. You sat in uncomfortable silence for some time.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke and you turned to look at him confused. 

“For what? You didn’t hex me.” 

“I haven’t been taking care of you, I haven’t been watching after you,” His eyes were slightly red, was he crying? “I should have been. I was so caught up in my own misery, I forgot you, you were going through the same thing.” Your eyes welled with tears and you leaned into him.

“Don’t be sorry.” You whispered, and he wrapped you in a hug, pulling you close to him. You cuddled up into his side, the pain potion helping, you no longer hurt when you were simply touched. 

“I am sorry, I am your brother. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe and I failed you.” He sniffled next to you, as you cried into his chest. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” You sobbed out, voice cracking and his arms tightened around you. 

“We will graduate soon, and we will never have to see these people again.” 

“I don’t want to go home either,” You admitted, “I can’t stay here! Forever, just my surname will leave me plagued. We won’t get jobs, we won’t make friends, nothing.”

“So we will leave.” He assured you, “We will get through these next few months, together, and then we will leave. Somewhere where nobody knows who we are.” You pulled back far enough to look at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise,” He swore, placing a hand over his heart, “Anywhere you want to go, we will go. We will be okay. Nothing ever stays the same for long,” He reminded you and you began crying again. He pulled you back into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his chest as you both cried it out. Together, you and your brother against the world.

[kirishwima]

Hello lovely! Hope you're doing well. 💖 If you're taking Mysme requests still, I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the RFA+V (and Saeran if you want) with a female MC who has depression and struggles with being overweight and the insecurity that that brings, but instinctively hides her stress and prioritizes the others over herself?

anon are you Me. Are You. this is too specific and i relate 100%, i'm sorry you feel this way, know i love & appreciate you <33

I'll use she/her pronouns for MC since you specified them!

RFA + Saeran with an insecure, depressed, overweight MC:

Yoosung:

* Listen, I love him, but boy would take a while to realise that MC's insecure, especially if she keeps hiding her own anxiety to help him when he's upset

* He will tell her he loves her CONSTANTLY, and when you don't love yourself, hearing that can...hurt sometimes, makes you doubt yourself. If she doesn't voice this concern, he won't take much note of it-he'll understand when she's upset, of course, and do his best to help, but he's not the best at reading between the lines, so she'll need to be a little bit more upfront about it

* The one scenario I can picture, is him coming home one day, perhaps finding MC getting dressed or after a shower-standing in front of a mirror, gaze averted, shoulders tense.

* He's happy to see her, but notices her stiff smile, how she flinches away when he goes to hug her, and when he asks what's wrong, if she says 'nothing' he'll insist until she talks to him, tells him her insecurities, how she doesn't get what he sees in her, how she'll be happy when they're together but then feel so empty the next moment.

* He'll feel SO guilty for not recognising the signs, but he won't beat himself up over it-what's most important is helping her, not wallowing in self-pity.

* He'll sit with MC for as long as it takes that day, will hold her close and list all the things he loves about her even if she doesn't believe a single one of them. He can't relate to the insecurities about her body, though he'll try to convince her he loves her as is-because it's the truth! He can however, relate to what it's like to feel empty, to force yourself through the motions of daily life while shrivelling up inside.

* So he vows to help, in anyway possible.

Zen:

* Listen, I refuse to believe that behind all that narcissism there aren't insecurities stemming from all the shit he's been through in his childhood. Boy's developed narcissism to cope with what he thought of himself as a kid, and I stand by that.

* So he's more observant than you might think-when he sees MC checking herself in the mirror, poking at her stomach, how she'll sigh and put a big hoodie over her t-shirt, how she shies away from physical affection, how seeing him shirtless oftentimes makes her feel bad about herself, that he 'has to be seen with her'-he notices it all, and hates it, hates that her brain made her think she's anything less than gorgeous.

* He tried asking her about it but she insists she's fine and she's no more or less insecure than the average person-ever the one to try and keep his worry at bay.

* So instead he'll let her know he loves her every single day, will tell her he loves her body, will post online about how proud he is to be with her-for all the world to know, so no one will ever dare question her worth.

* It's an uphill battle, and it's not one Zen can win for her, but he'll do his best to help, so she can realise her own self-worth.

Jaehee:

* Baehee would be one of the most observant people in the RFA-though she doesn't share the same insecurities, she can understand them, and will often prod MC, asking her to talk about anything that might be bothering her.

* If MC says 'it's nothing, please don't worry', she won't push much; she doesn't want her to completely clam up. But she'll always be gentle, holding MC's hands as she says she'll always be here if MC wants to talk, that she helped her so much she wants to be MC's support too.

* I know how weird it feels lending clothes to others when you're chubby-so I feel like sharing clothes with Jaehee would be...an ordeal. Being unable to wear Jaehee's skinny jeans, whilst she can fit into MC's, would sting, and it'd only add onto MC's guilt-she doesn't want to feel this way about her girlfriend! She loves her, appreciates her, doesn't ever want her to know about these thoughts.

* But again, Jaehee knows. She understands it, so-she takes MC shopping, and together they buy matching pairs of pyjamas and t-shirts, things that, whilst they don't need to share, can wear and be reminded of one another.

* "I love you as you are-you accepted me for who I am, so let me do the same for you" she'll say, will hug MC and hold her close until she lets her feelings out, talks about her worries.

* Jaehee would be eager to help search for a good psychologist, to get MC professional help-she knows what she can do as MC's girlfriend isn't much, so she wants MC to get the best help she can.

*And of course, she'll be there for MC every step of the way

Jumin:

* oof...listen. He loves MC SO much, will buy her the moon if she asks, but this man..he's only recently discovered his own emotions. He's emotionally dense, and when MC says she's fine, he tends to take it at face value. Why would MC lie to him, after all? She trusts him enough to let him know if something's bothering her, doesn't she?

* Not to say he doesn't realise there's something wrong-he's a businessman, reading his clients is a part of his job description, emotions included. So when MC's smile stretches thin, when she's overwhelmed but swallows it down in favour of acting like everything's okay, he knows-maybe not to the extent that others might've, but he can tell something's wrong, and he'll honestly be upset MC doesn't talk to him about it.

* So he'll just...sit down and talk to her about it. Ask her to be upfront with him, tell her he wants her to be happy, that he wants to be there for her and help her any way he can, but can't do that if she doesn't talk with him and let him know what's wrong.

* If MC breaks down-if she cries, hides her face in her hands, he'll be shell-shocked. He's so used to her smiling, even at the face of adversity, that seeing her like this...he has no idea what to do at first, not one used to emotional outbursts.

* Insticts soon kick in though, and he gathers her in his arms, rubs his hands on her back, letting her cry until she calms down, no matter how long that takes.

* When she tells him about her depression, her insecurities, he'll nod, quietly listening to her worries, formulating a plan of attack.

* He quite bluntly doesn't understand why she's insceure. She's beautiful?? He loves her exactly as she is?? If she wants to change something about her appearance she's more than welcome to, but to want to do that because she feels she must is...absurd. He simply won't allow it.

* I know it's a cliche in a lot of these headcanons, that he'd buy perfectly tailored clothes for MC, that he'd purchase the finest, most flattering clothes for her to feel as beautiful as she is in his eyes, but it's true-he would, hell, he'd probably read up on fashion himself so he'd be able to help her pick out outfits. He'd do anything for MC, and that's NOT an exaggeration.

* Plus he'd insist on her going to therapy-I headcanon that after realising his own emotions he'd probably start attending therapy sessions himself, to try and get a better read on his emotions, so he'll be a pretty strong advocate for therapy, and he wants the very best for MC.

Seven:

* HAHAHAHAHAH.

* This man...not only can he absoloutely relate, it's honestly a big reason why their relationship is rocky, to say the least.

* Having two depressed, self-sarificing people who'd rather bury their emotions in the depths of their gut rather than admit emotional vulnerability in a relationship? Yeah, not a good idea.

* He'll be using humour to cope with his depression, trying to get MC to open up instead, whilst MC's just pretending she's Never Had a Negative Thought in her life, trying to get Seven to open up instead. You see the issue, yeah?

* Honestly it'll take a lot of walking on eggshells and dancing around the issue until either one of them breaks down, admitting defeat, or they share an honest, adult conversation about their emotions and about how they both need help-which, realistically speaking, I find quite unlikely to happen.

* Not to say the relationship won't work out-God, Seven wants it to work out so, so much. He'll tell MC he loves her constantly, he'll make it so in order to enter the apartment, she'll need to say one thing she loves about herself each day at the security door before it can be unlocked, he'll do everything in his power to help her with her body issues because he loves her, worships her as is.

* The ideal solution honestly would be someone else from the RFA-Jaehee probably, lol, coming to boink them both over the head and drag them to therapy, both individual and couple's sessions, so they can finally start expressing their emotions to one another in a way that ISN'T memes or self-deprecating humour.

* It'll take a while but-they'll make it work. They love one another too much not to.

V/Jihyun:

* This man. This sweet, sweet man.

* He knows what it's like to be insecure, to feel uncomfortable in your own skin, knows what depression is like, how it takes a hold of you and leaves you a shell of who you once were, or worse-who you could've been.

* He's so attuned to his own emotions, he's learnt to recognise the signs in himself-and ergo can tell when someone else is also suffering, although to what extent, it's not always easy to tell.

* He hates MC feeling this way about herself. He loves her so much, she's the one that pulled him out of his own self-depracating, self-sacrifising depressed state, has helped him seek help and become a better man-he wants to be able to support her too, wants to do everything in his power to help.

* But helping someone who won't even admit there's something wrong...isn't easy. He's so gentle and patient though, and slowly helps tear MC's walls down. He'll never prod too much, will simply..be there for her. Will hug her, run his fingers down her sides. If she squirms away, afraid of him feeling her love handles, he'll simply smile and say he loves her, finds every single thing about her beautiful-he'll purposely trail his hands to said love handles, if she's comfortable with it, looking her straight in the eye when he says "Every part of you, I'm in love with. Please don't take my words lightly."

* If she's up for it, he'd love to photograph her-but it's not easy, when you're so awkward in your own skin, to accept to be viewed through a camera lens. So instead he'll draw her, his sketchbook filled with doodles of her face when she's happy, when she's concentrating, her body as she sleeps, head smooshed into the pillow.

* He'll never push her, letting her take things at her own pace-but he'll be there to aid in every single step

Saeran:

* I know I said it for Seven and V to but...out of everyone, I feel like he'd understand MC's predicament the most. Insecure about his frail body, dealing with the trauma Mint Eye has left him with, trying to combat his demons and anxieties whilst trying to return to being a member of society-he's going through...a lot, to say the least.

* So it's honestly understandable how MC will swallow down her own issues, do her best to support Saeran instead. Will she break in the process? Perhaps. She doesn't care. Not if she can help him in the process.

* Saeran might not notice it initially, too focused on his own issues which-honestly, understandable. It's not everyday you leave a cult after all. But the more he talks with MC, the more he realises she's hiding so much from him, slowly notices how often she forces a smile on her face, how she'll nervously cover her mid-riff with her arms whilst sitting down, how she shies away from attention-

*He's almost never the one to initiate physical affection with her, and she doesn't initiate it much either-but when he does, when he leans in to kiss her and feels her tense he panics, pulls away because-is she reacting this way because she doesn't want him?

* When she explains it's not that, that she loves him and wants to be with him, he'll press the issue, ask her why she'll shy away from him then-not in a mean way, he'll just honestly be so worried, wondering what's wrong and how he could help.

* And when/if MC does tell him about her issues...there's not honestly much he could do. He'll tell her he loves her, that she's beautiful, that her body's a vessel to carry her soul around, and that soul is so wonderful it radiates joy to everyone around her, but he knows how hard it is to believe such words when in this mindset.

* So instead, he suggests they go to therapy together. He knows it's not the easiest thing in the world-but he wants her to get the help she deserves. He'll hold her hand on the way to her first session, will wait outside for her, smiling up at her when she's done.

* Things will slowly get better for the both of them.

-masterpost-

[ri-ahhh]

take it back

Y’all seem to love a friends w benefits trope and I was heavily inspired by this gif that I couldn’t reblog cuz I’d probably get flagged but it looks a lot like gray if you put your mind to it. Anyways, it’s 5 AM and I can’t go back to sleep, so this is just a little something I’m typing out in the dark.

warnings: smut, might make you feel some type of way if ur a lonely bitch like me

***

There are certain rules you have to follow when you become someone’s fuckbuddy. Sometimes they’re unspoken, sometimes they’re laid out; either way, they exist, and the cardinal sin of breaking them can be worse than the act that makes those rules necessary in the first place.

It’s late — that’s well within the confines of the rules. You had hit him up a while ago, around midnight, unable to sleep and in desperate need of physical touch. A distraction from racing thoughts and an escape from the stress of the day.

The fact that it was Grayson you decided to hit up is where things maybe start to get dicey with the proverbial referee in the game of friends with benefits. Mostly because he’s becoming your one and only, the other boys on your hookup list fading from your mind when you’re faced with the opportunity to get some meaningless but satisfying sex. No one fucks you like he does, makes you cum like he does. Makes you feel like he does.

The two of you have a connection, but the dumb bitch in you is too prominent to let you consciously acknowledge it. You’re not interested in a relationship right now, no matter how good his dick is, or how warm your chest gets when you’re around him.

Or, even, how hard he makes you cum. Every time. Like earlier, after he had let himself in to your apartment, he had made the familiar trek down the dark hallway to your room, slipped into your bed, and immediately snuck his hand in your panties while he simultaneously greeted you with a warm, heavy kiss.

That was acceptable, because he was already well on his way to making you cream in your underwear; the relieved sigh you released against his lips and the overwhelming sense of comfort of having him in your bed was decidedly not. Fuckbuddies aren’t supposed to like having someone in their own beds beyond getting the job done that they came there to do.

Given the hour, you hadn’t expected him to remove his hand in favor of eating you out, but he had. Slipped your panties off and slid right down the bed until he was between your legs and his mouth blanketed your sex with expert dexterity. Your whimpers and moans were too soft and intimate as he slid a hand beneath his sweatshirt that you’re wearing, squeezing a breast and tugging on the nipple while his other kneaded the quivering muscles of your inner thigh. But he was watching you so intently, with so much care that it felt wrong to be any louder or more wanton — or worse, hold back any noises at all.

When you cum on his mouth with a cry of his name, Grayson licks you clean before standing off the bed to get naked. For a moment, you allow yourself the pleasure of admiring him as he does so in the ultra-dim light of the room coming from your bedside lamp, then work at getting your own top over your head. And just like that, it’s back to following the rules: undressing yourselves rather than one another.

Now, with your legs thrown over his broad shoulders, your hands clutching desperately at his bulging biceps as he flicks his hips into yours so perfectly, you’re back to feeling some type of way. You’re locked into the trance of his eyes, and he yours; the tip of his dick hits so deep you don’t even know where the two of you are separate beings anymore. If you could be one with this man forever, you would.

That deserves a yellow card, for sure, but it’s potentially passable as a heat of the moment, I’m-getting-that-good-d thought.

“So big,” you can’t help but praise breathlessly, reaching up and threading your fingers through the damp hair at the back of his head. He thrusts harder, but maintains that excruciatingly steady pace that has your eyes rolling back and your toes curling in the air. You moan gutturaly and focus your gaze back on his flushed face. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

Somewhere in another universe, your alter ego is throwing a red card for that violation.

It’s worth it, though, when his eyes blacken and he ducks down to kiss you roughly, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. You suck on it with another moan, which morphs into high-pitched gasps and whimpers with how his shift has changed the position. He’s even deeper now, his sweaty skin pressed against yours so everything is hotter, both physically and emotionally.

Grayson tucks his head by your ear, his rosy, swollen lips grazing the shell of it as he whispers to you with a maddeningly gentle, easy voice.

Low and raspy —“Pussy so tight. Dripping wet all over my cock just for me, huh? Who else gets you this fuckin wet, sweetheart?”

Uh oh. Now you’re both thrown out of the game.

Still, your pussy clenches around his dick at his words, and both of you groan loud in each other’s ears. “Just you, Gray,” you manage. He speeds up at your affirmation, and you tug hard on his hair while your other hand drags red tracks across his sculpted back. “Oh my... fuck, baby, please.”

He works for you, panting and gasping and grunting until he gets you there with just his dick and you’re seizing up all around him. Your pussy flutters madly, cumming so hard that it drives him over the edge himself before he can even think about pulling out. The warm spurts of his cum filling you up only serve to prolong your seemingly never-ending orgasm.

Grayson moans and lowers down to his elbows so he can cup your cheeks in his hands, drawing you to him for a deep, passionate kiss that both has your head in the clouds and grounds you suddenly. The waves coursing through your body are waning, and you have enough clarity to pull away from his lips with a small smile. He grins back, and follows your lead when you push back on his collarbone gently.

Your legs, sore and slightly crampy now that your mind isn’t so distracted, drop back to the bed with a satisfied sigh from your lips. You take a minute to gather yourself and Grayson catches his breath next to you. He takes your hand in his while the two of you stare at the ceiling together, before you leave him with a squeeze to his fingers to use the bathroom.

You re-enter the bedroom to find him partially dressed, sitting on the edge of your bed staring blankly at a pile of clean clothes you’ve yet to hang up in your closet. He’s got his shirt in one hand, his phone in the other, and he smiles at you when he notices you.

“What are you doing?” you ask, climbing back onto your bed and slipping under the sheets with a little smile. He’s close enough that you can reach over and tickle your nails against the smooth skin of his ribs.

He flinches and you giggle. His fingers capture yours and bring them to his lips, where he presses a sweet kiss to them. “Waiting for you.”

You hum, your breath catching in your throat in the next moment when he starts leaning down, his intention clear on his handsome face.

Despite yourself, you let him kiss you. It’s nice and soft and comforting and confusing.

He pulls back, staring at you with eyes that have gone that green-hazel that you love so much post-coitus. His thumb caresses your jaw, your still-flushed cheek, and he waits for you to respond.

“What was that?” you question, wrapping your petite hand around his forearm gently. You need something to hold on to, to keep you focused and in the moment.

Grayson hesitates. “I can’t give you a kiss goodbye?”

“You’re not supposed to.” You’re voice has dropped to a whisper without you even realizing it, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip to ground you even more. “Take it back.”

He just stares at you, and you try not to be affected by the hurt you see flash behind his pretty eyes. Try and fail, as his fingertips move from your neck to your lips, sweeping across them softly before pressing his fingers to his own mouth.

“There,” he says quietly, rising from the bed with a small, sad smile. “Undone.”

You watch him walk out of your room with no further conversation.

Sleep escapes you even more so than before you asked him to come over. And by the light of morning, you pick up your phone once again, coming to the conclusion that some rules are meant to be broken for the right person.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: So Close Yet So Far Away

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay 'Lady' Ray

Warnings: Language, talk of sex, throwback to sex, Pope is a crude asshole. Yearnnniinnngggg.

Summary: Lady and Pope get into an argument and Frankie sorts her out. Cue some elite level yearning.

A/N: HAHAHA I wasn't even meant to write this today but I woke up with this on my mind and I just had to because they're my BABIES. This is an instalment in the Frankie x Lady series and takes place back when Lady was in Frankie's squad, before they were an item.

Jay should have known better than to ask about everyone’s weekend. She just wanted to make small talk while they got prepped for a field exercise. She wasn’t ready to hear about their night out on Saturday, how Santi, Frankie, and Benny all scored some willing chicks, Will only missing out because he had a girlfriend, not because he didn’t pull.

All the while Jay was stuck with her family, listening to her mother go on about how she was too good for the army, she should leave while she was still alive, get a normal job, marry, have kids… She could have been out with the guys, maybe get lucky herself and if not, at least have a fun night. Get drunk instead of sad.

And now she finds herself listening to Santi talk about his one night stand, not giving Benny a chance to talk about his, while Frankie, quite characteristically, clammed up about personal stuff.

“Nutted her so fucking hard and all she did was beg for more,” Santi brags, “best fuck I had in ages…”

Jay’s been in the military since she was 18. She knows how soldiers talk, she’s heard it all, she’s participated in the crude joking, she’s not put off by it. But on this Monday morning, while the squad is assembling their equipment, she doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope, do you fucking have to talk like that?” she barks, unable to hear one more word about his sexual conquests. The rest of them cease their activities in wait for Pope’s reply. Working so closely together, sometimes spending weeks cramped up on assignments builds close bonds but also breeds discord. It’s normal to be at each other’s throats from time to time but it’s rarely Jay who flies off the handle.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, My Lady,” Santi replies with a smirk, his voice at its most velvety. “I meant I made passionate love to her all night – “

“You are so fucking disgusting, you know that?” Jay hisses. “Just shut the fuck up about the whole thing, nobody wants to hear about it.”

“Clearly not you,” Pope drawls, quick to anger. In the corner of her eye, Jay notices Will shake his head at him. Don’t engage, bro, just drop it. But Santiago Garcia is someone who doesn’t let things slide when he’s in gear.

“When was the last time you got laid, Ray? You need to get those pipes cleared out. Get some d.”

When was the last time? Too long ago. She does have an itch but last time she scratched it, it just didn’t feel right. She had the same feeling of detachment as she experienced just now when she heard about last Saturday night, particularly the fact that Frankie got laid.

It’s not that she’s jealous. She’s just more comfortable with the idea that Frankie doesn’t sleep around with anyone.

“A dick isn’t going to solve my problems, Santi, unless it’s a big one up your sorry ass,” she snaps, a rude laugh from Benny telling her she scored a point. Staring hard at Pope, whose ridiculously handsome features show an obnoxious amount of amusement, she knows that he won’t budge until he’s drawn metaphorical blood.

“Just name the time and the place, Ray, I’ll be there. Will you?”

“Okay, knock it off.” It’s Frankie, of course. The voice of reason. “Redfly’s gonna be here any minute and I don’t want to do extra laps just because you two can’t play nice.”

Frankie always has that calming effect on her, even now when she’s inexplicably mad at him for having fooled around with some random girl he picked up at their usual dive. Is there a possibility of her being there again in the future? Jay doesn’t want to think about it. Right now, she focuses on the sense that Frankie’s words make. It’s not worth it. Santi’s not worth it.

“Just stay away from me, asshole,” she warns Santi before going back to her kit. The tension in the room eases and Benny, who’s closest to Jay, gives her a brief pat on the back and a nod that says Good call. She hears Frankie murmur something to Santi behind her back, then Santi’s mutter: “She on the rag or something?”

That does it. Jay throws down her backpack and spins around.

“You say that to my face, you piece of shit,” she growls, taking a step forward. Her body is quivering with pent up rage in need of an outlet and knocking Pope on his ass would serve as an adequate one.

“Jay, he’s not worth it,” Benny tries to placate her but she barely hears him. Her whole focus is directed at Pope and his shit-eating grin. He says one more thing…

“Got your panties in a twist?”

She lunges forward but doesn’t make it to Pope as several hands grab her and hold her back.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Calm the fuck down, Ray!”

“Crazy bitch – “

“You’re on really thin ice, too, Pope! Shut that motherfucking mouth of yours!”

Benny is physically restraining her as she practically vibrates with desire to beat the crap out of Santi, who’s held back by Frankie.

“Ray, he’s not worth it,” Benny tells her. “Take a walk. Smoke. Calm down. He’s an asshole.”

He’s right and Jay knows it. Mustering up all of her willpower, Jay rolls back onto her heels, straightens her back, and squares her shoulders. Without looking at anyone, she turns around and stomps out.

Frankie finds her by the vehicles, in the backseat of a Humvee. Her fore and middle fingers are rubbing against her thumb: she’s quit smoking but is clearly wishing she had a cigarette right now. Frankie climbs into the backseat from the other side and pulls up a pack from his pocket, offering it to her without words. Jay hesitates but eventually takes one and leans closer to him when he flicks open his lighter. Frankie can smell the anger on her, a sweaty tightness that radiates from her muscles. She sits back, inhaling deeply before exhaling in a frustrated puff of smoke.

“Fuck,” she mutters, “I don’t wanna die because of these.”

“I thought you quit?”

“I did.” She throws him a glance and a grimace before flicking the cigarette out through the open door. “I thought you quit as well?”

“I keep them around for emergencies like this,” he shrugs. Jay looks pointedly at him.

“Then you haven’t truly quit, have you?”

He loves it how she puts him on the spot like this, provokes him, forces him to reconsider, change his way of thinking. She always does it with such ease, sometimes with a teasing glint in her eye. She just makes him want to be a better person.

“I guess not.” He throws her a small smile that goes unreciprocated. She stares into the back of the seat in front of her, lips tight. Frankie would love to just sit here in silence and let her lead, let her open up in due time, but he knows that if they don’t join the others soon, Tom is going to make a scene.

“Pope’s an asshole,” he states. Jay scoffs but says nothing. “But what’s up with you? You usually don’t let shit like that get to you.”

Her nostrils flare and he sees the muscles of her throat flex. Eventually, she parts her lips to speak, her voice strained.

“I spent the weekend with my dear mother, my brother, and his family. And you know what mom’s like.”

Frankie nods. Yes, he’s heard about Jay’s mother and the dislike the woman has for her daughter’s career choice. The older brother is married with one kid and another on the way and he, of course, is a saint, a pinnacle of human achievement, his children the very essence of what makes a successful life, his wife the perfect picture of Woman.

Jay suddenly twitches, then kicks at the seat in front of her.

“Fuck!I hate this fucking shit!”

Frankie refrains from putting a hand on her shoulder, no matter how much he would like to. He might end up with a broken nose.

“I cut her off,” Jay says tonelessly. “Completely.”

“About fucking time, Jay.” He’s been waiting for this to happen and he wants to tell her that he’s proud of her but it’s not his prerogative, no matter how much he would like it to be.

“Yeah,” she agrees, still not looking at him. “I kept hoping that she’d get her shit together but…” Her voice trails off and she swallows hard. “Fuck. I miss my dad.”

“He’d be proud of you,” Frankie assures her, biting off the endearment that threatened to escape him. Mi amor. Querida. He wants to be able to call her that, wants to be the one she’d come to with her sadness. Wants to be the one to call her mother and tell her to go suck an egg.

“You should’ve called,” he tells her but she only shakes her head. Stubborn as a mule.

“You were out. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

It had been ruined the moment Santi laid eyes on the company of three young women by the bar. He had zoned in on the curvy brunette and Benny had picked the fiery redhead, leaving Frankie with the blonde. He didn’t want her, didn’t want any of the others, but he had fallen for the peer pressure and for every drink, he figured it could be a good idea to get laid. The girl was pretty, funny, nice. She had a hot body and was clearly willing. They had gone to her place and he had treated her like he would treat every woman he slept with: he ate her out, giving her several orgasms with his tongue before even thinking about putting his dick in her.

She had insisted on riding him. Frankie didn’t mind but as she bounced on his cock, her round, heavy tits jiggling in front of him, he didn’t see her face anymore. No, it was Jay all along, Jay’s long, lean body on top of him, Jay sinking down on him, her slick, hot pussy swallowing his cock while he swallowed her moan. The fantasy had become so real that he had to wrangle the woman off of him and take her from behind instead.

He left in silence once she was asleep, crept out like an asshole, a coward. He usually asked a woman if she wanted him to stay, he had once upon a time enjoyed having breakfast the next morning, sharing kisses when he finally left. But now, it all felt like cheating.

“You wouldn’t have ruined the night,” he tells her quietly. “It wasn’t that good.”

“The night or the sex?”

“The latter.” His ears are burning and he refuses to look at her.

“Too much to drink?” There it is: that sweet, amiable little taunt she saves for him only – or at least he hopes she does. He’s never heard her speak like that to any of the other guys.

“Wrong girl.”

Jay turns her head and looks at him. The distance between them in the backseat seems to shrink and grow at the same time when he returns her gaze. The hairs at the nape of his neck rise when he loses himself in the fathomless ocean-blue of her eyes.

He has to kiss her. He mustn’t kiss her.

“Are you two done with your fucking therapy session?”

Both of them startle when Tom shows up by the open door on Frankie’s side.

“I have an exercise op to run and I don’t have time to wait for you to feel quite ready, Ray,” he adds before slapping his hand to the roof of the Humvee. “Get your asses in gear.”

He leaves without having noticed anything. Frankie wonders how it’s even possible. Didn’t Tom feel the air crackle with electricity? Didn’t he hear how hard his heart was beating?

Jay gets out of the vehicle and slams the door shut, and Frankie follows suit. As they walk back, keeping a distance of two feet between them, Jay murmurs a Thank you, Morales to him.

“Sure,” he replies easily, forcing himself to sound neutral. “I got you, Ray.”

[bestintheparsec]

The Same Coin - Part 7 (finale)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: This is it, the last chapter of my second series! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get this out, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading this little story, it’s definitely been more challenging to write but I love these two a lot and I’m grateful for the love you’ve given them❤️

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: mentions of blood/injury, angst

Masterlist

The stack of papers lands in front of you with a resounding smack. 

At first your stomach drops and you feel the blood leave your face, but the feeling is quickly replaced by one of disbelief. “Suspended?” you read the words aloud, appalled at them. It’s not so much that you’re surprised, but the principle of the matter that sends anger through your veins.

“Temporary suspension, agent,” the ambassador clarifies, crossing her arms. “And it’s just from being out in the field. You’ll still have work to do here. You’re lucky it’s not more than that.”

They’ve gotta be fucking kidding.

“All due respect, ambassador, but I don’t understand,” you grumble.

“Agent,” she leans forward and puts her hands on the desk. “You took classified intel and used it to locate a target without permission to do so. You then proceeded to track him down by yourself and damn near compromised the investigation by doing so.”

“Compromised the investigation?” you repeat her words incredulously. “There wasn’t any investigation. No one was doing anything about that asshole—he would’ve gotten away with the murder of multiple innocent lives, scot-free, if I hadn’t done anything.”

“The relationship we have with the Colombian National Police is...delicate, as you know. There are protocols that we stick to when it comes to the narcos—I would’ve thought you understood that. In pursuing him on your own without the government’s go-ahead, you put yourself and us in murky waters.”

Your mouth is tense and it takes everything in you not to get up and storm out. Whose side are they on? You’re trying to help the case against these assholes and this is what you get for it? Bullshit.

“I advise you to be careful in future, agent,” she continues. “The shady business that Murphy and Peña tend to get into—it’s very unlike you, and I wouldn’t recommend treading those same waters. We had to pull some strings to keep your ass off the hook, and it’s not something we’ll do again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you mutter under your breath, pushing the papers back in her direction as you stand up to leave.

~

It’s a cruel form of mockery, the way the ambassador drops another stack of paperwork in front of you onto your desk. A lesson, so-to-speak, as she hands off the irrelevant bullshit to you and walks away without a word. Not that you’ve been able to pay much attention to your work, anyways. Your partners are out in the field for the day, something you didn’t care to inquire about. You chuckle humorlessly at the irony of Steve and Javier going about their business while you’re forced to sit on the sidelines. You take a big gulp of your coffee, which is lightly laced with liquor that doesn’t seem to be strong enough to get you through the day. Sitting back in your chair, you force yourself to release the tension you’ve been holding in your shoulders and jaw.

When it’s finally time for your break, you dip out to your usual place to pick something up before taking it with you to the benches outside the embassy. You have a feeling this spot is going to become a regular one for you. It’s just open enough to let the occasional breezes provide some relief from the glaring Colombian heat and anything that’s brewing in your mind. 

You’re well aware that, at best, all of this is a mild repercussion—a slap to the ego, nothing more. But for some reason you’re frustrated enough that you have to force back tears from your eyes, and you can’t put a finger on why.

For a while you amuse yourself with the idea of leaving all these assholes behind—not that there’s much else for you here. You’ve given up a lot for this job—parts of yourself, that’s for sure. It never seems to give anything back. If regularly putting your life in danger isn’t enough, you have to deal with the condescension from the higher-ups and their ideas of what’s right or wrong. But ultimately, you're not here for them. You have a job to do and you'll keep doing it, just like you always have, until Escobar goes down.

"I'm doing my fucking best," you tell yourself out loud, a reminder above all else.

It’s almost time for you to go back when you hear some familiar footsteps sauntering towards you, Javier’s figure appearing as he takes a seat beside you. The bench creaks as you shift in your spot, making room for him. In all of today’s mess, you’ve almost forgotten about what happened—and what didn’t—last night with him.

You caught his eye a few times while at the desk this morning, but nothing else. It’s been awkward—somewhere in between deer-in-the-headlights and regret. Steve looked at you with pity, and there was a bit of that in Javier's eyes, but something else as well. Mostly you've been dodging any mentions of last night, reverting back to the usual state of pretending nothing happened at all. It's been the same, exhausting back and forth between two people who can't seem to figure themselves out. 

You don’t turn to face him, nor does he try to look you in the eyes as he leans forward in his seat, putting out the cigarette he’s been holding.

You run your hands down your face and shake your head. “I don’t want to do this right now, Javier,” you tell him, your voice softer than you want it to be. 

Several moments pass before Javier can find any words to say. “I know. I just—I’m...sorry. About the suspension,” he mutters, his voice rough and disconcerted. And everything else, too, he thinks to himself. “It’s fucked up,” he mutters under his breath. It's like you're both walking on eggshells, avoiding the bottom of the iceberg. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not by my standards, anyways,” he continues.

You turn to face him, a hint of feigned amusement in your eyes. “Are you worried about me, Javier?” 

Javier feels his chest constrict, just for a second. “Me? Never,” he jests, and the air between you weighs a little bit less. You both let out a soft chuckle and turn to face the vast, open field in front of you again. You can't tell that there's a part of him that aches, despite his best attempts to suppress the feeling. You’d pushed him away, but he could never hold that against you. He’s not often alone, not when he doesn’t want to be, but that doesn’t make a person any less lonely. Some people deserve to be alone with their sins.

He keeps a good-sized distance from you on the bench, too far for his own liking but close enough that he has to physically resist the need to reach out to you. He doesn’t want to bring up last night any more than you do, but he hates that he hasn’t been able to think of anything else. It wasn’t until he’d left your apartment that he realized he was in deeper than he wanted to be.

“You know, I—” you start, clasping your hands together. You finally turn to him, and he mirrors you. “I could never stand the way you did things. But I...I want you to know that I get it now.”

Javier ponders on your words, but remains silent. After a moment, he sighs and nods. You fall silent as well, but the two of you exchange awkward glances, unsure of how to even address what happened last night. So you don’t.

“I know that this wouldn't be a big deal for you,” you add after a minute. “Really, it’s not a big deal to me either. It could be worse. I don’t know why…” But you know exactly what’s bothering you.

“Things will be back to normal soon enough,” Javier tells you. What if he doesn’t want them to be? You nod once, and Javier wishes he could believe the words himself.

With nothing else to say, you sit there quietly in each other’s presence for a few more minutes, neither of you in any hurry to go back in.

~

You open your eyes to a mostly dark room, vaguely aware of the cool surface of the pillow on your face as you roll over onto your side. You rub the sleep from your eyes and then your neck, which is stiff from a bad sleeping position. The streets of Colombia are still quiet outside, so all you hear is the humming of the AC in your bedroom. You’re barely conscious but you already wish your head was as silent as your surroundings. It’s funny how you’d grown used to sleeping in a bed that’s too big for one person, the space next to you cold and empty as it’s always been. You never really noticed it before. But for some reason you slept next to his warmth just once and now find yourself unable to handle the coldness anymore. 

It’s been a week since your encounter with the informant, and since your...situation with Javier. The plush padding of the mattress and rough covers do little to bring you comfort as you let out a quiet groan, shoving the blanket off yourself. With only a ringing silence to keep you company, you can’t help but think of yesterday night, when the man of the hour showed up unannounced and semi-inebriated at your door. You feel as though you could sink further into the bed and just disappear for a while, and honestly, you wouldn’t mind it.

~

“Javier?” You whisper, putting your gun back down on the shelf. “It’s almost one in the morning.” You’d answered the door cautiously after hearing three soft knocks, not expecting to find Javier standing there, leaning against the door frame.

“I...wanted to see you…” he mutters, and he hopes you don't catch the faint scent of alcohol. He doesn't know what made him turn the hallway to your door when he'd gotten home, but when you opened the door it was too late to change his mind.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, stepping forward to guide him back to his own place.

“Almost,” Javier answers with a tilt of the head. He's a little buzzed, but it's not enough. There's been a lot of 'almosts' lately. You. A partner he had no choice but to work with. Almost the most infuriating person he knew. Almost tolerable. Almost a friend. Almost… He's tired of almosts.

He observes silently as your eyes flick to the ground then back up to him, sensing your apprehension. "I'm...sorry," Javier stands up straighter. "I don't know what I…I'll leave if you want," he sputters, turning back toward his apartment. 

You stop him by gently touching his arm, sending a warmth into his chest that he blames on his currently hazy state of mind.

"No, you can come in, if you'd like...I should get some water in you, anyways" you tell him.

He drops his shoulders and slips his hands into his jean pockets, nodding. You open the door wider and gesture for him to enter, locking it behind him. He trods towards the living room and plops himself down on the sofa as you fetch him a glass of water before joining him. You're careful to leave a small space between you and him on the lumpy seat.

You watch as he takes a sip, waiting for him to say whatever he needs to.

The dim incandescent lighting draws attention to the ever-prominent dark circles under his eyes. It’s probably been a long time since the man’s had a decent sleep, not that the same struggle doesn’t follow you as well. "You look like shit, Javier," you comment playfully when he doesn't say anything. 

He scoffs, taking another sip of water and resisting the urge to light a cigarette right now.

“About the other night…” he starts, then trails off, unsure of where he’s going with this.

“We really don’t have to talk about it,” you tell him, gently. You reach out to touch his arm, but quickly take it back. Or maybe it’s you that doesn’t want to talk about it.

Javier notes the way you’re holding your arms close to yourself, rubbing your hands together nervously. An anxious tic you always resort back to. People don’t change, but his feelings about them might have.

“No, I—” he starts again. “I think you were right. We shouldn’t be doing any of this,” he goes on, his tone soft. He’s a goddamn liar, and he knows it. 

“But you’re here anyways,” you reply. It almost sounds like a question, the way you say it. “It was my fault for…”

“No,” he cuts you off. “You deserve better than someone like me.” 

“Don’t fucking say that, Javier,” you snap at him, sitting a bit straighter. 

“The things I’ve done…” he shakes his head, not meeting your eyes.

“We’ve both had to do a lot of questionable shit here,” you continue. “I’m sorry that I didn’t understand before. But I meant what I said the other day, about why you do things the way you do. I may not have agreed, but I understand now.”

Javier only looks at you, having nothing to say to that. “Sometimes I think we’re hurting ourselves more than anyone else,” you add, thinking out loud. “Besides...you’re not the only one with issues,” you muse. “Like you said to me once, we’re fucked up. Look at me, I don’t know how to not be alone…” you trail off, warmth rushing to your face as you hope that he won’t remember any of this in the morning. But that’s a false hope, and you know it.

Javier listens quietly, wondering at what point it was that he started to understand you, too. His mind might be foggy, but the alcohol seems to make other things clearer for him.

You’re not alone. “You have Murphy and me,” Javier shrugs. “Fuck those other assholes.”

"I'm not used to anyone needing me," you whisper.

"I need you," he admits before he realizes he's said it out loud. 

His breath hitches but he tries to play it off. "I mean, we—" He gestures with a hand but forgets he's holding the glass, so it falls onto the tile floor, both of you flinching when it shatters into many small fragments.

Javier swears, instinctively reaching down to pick up the pieces without thinking before you can stop him. One of the larger shards nicks his skin and he swears again as some blood starts to pool on his fingers.

"Fuck, Peña," you hiss, grabbing a cloth off the table and pressing it into the cut. You immediately become aware of his large, warm hand resting against your own.

Hurriedly dabbing at the broken skin until the bleeding slows, you look up to find that his eyes are on you and not his fresh cut. He looks at you like the blood on his hand is the last thing on his mind. Holding his gaze for a few moments, you swallow quietly and avert your eyes, gesturing for him to hold the cloth down with his free hand while you get up to go grab the first aid kit.

When you come back, Javier mutters something about being careful of the glass that’s still on the floor. 

“I’m not an idiot, Javier,” you tease.

He chuckles dryly, looking down at his hand as you sit back down and open the kit.

"Alright, let me see." You hold out your hand and he places his in yours as you remove the cloth to examine it. 

"Always so careful," you mutter as he flinches when you dab the spot with alcohol. You turn his hand over, checking for any pieces that might've gotten stuck.

Javier can't stop focusing on the way your soft hands feel on his rough, calloused ones. His head is throbbing, not only from the alcohol but also from a racing mind and a pulse that’s loudly pounding in his chest. You're about ten times gentler than he was when he'd insisted on changing his own dressing after the gunshot incident. Almost as gentle as you were the night you'd stayed with him in bed.

“Sometimes I’m glad I got shot,” Javier says suddenly, so quietly that for a second you think you misheard him. You finish up applying the bandage, peering at him curiously.

“Why’s that?” you humor him, hearing the slightly inebriated unsteadiness in his tone.

Javier feels his eyelids getting heavier, but his mind is still somewhat alert.

“You’re less infuriating now,” he mumbles, his words starting to blur together. You smirk at that, raising an eyebrow at him. It looks like you’re almost as reckless as he is now.

You don’t know how else to respond to that, so you ignore it.“There,” you say, letting go of his hand. “Just like new.”

Javier whispers a quiet thanks and rubs at the bandage, his mind a bit foggy as he looks at you. You look flustered, lost in some thought. It’s silent for long enough that the tension in the room becomes sharper than the shards of glass.

You nod once, brushing your hands together before standing. “Let me get all of this cleaned up,” you tell him as you take everything with you back to the kitchen.

You’re only mildly surprised when you return after a  few minutes to find Javier with his eyes shut on the couch, mouth slightly agape and his arms splayed out against his sides. You huff and shake your head in amusement, turning to grab the knitted blanket from the other sofa. You shake it out, gently placing it over him and tucking it over his shoulders. He shifts subconsciously, already fast asleep as you bend down to clean up the glass on the floor. Before switching off the lamp you smile softly at the sight of him. You could send him home, but this is probably your only chance at getting him to sleep. It’s rare that anyone gets to see a resting, relaxed Javier Peña, and this is probably as close as it gets.

Before you head back to your own room, you readjust the small pillow at his side, should he fall over to an uncomfortable angle overnight. You set a new glass of water on the coffee table and suddenly become aware of the feeling that your apartment feels less empty now, like the deafening silence that’s usually in your home has become replaced by something you never thought you’d find here. This feeling that's been in your chest this whole time, the one you've been trying so hard to push away, makes itself known every chance it gets.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper, the admission barely loud enough for you to hear.

~

Everything that Javier’s ever done, he’s done by himself, if at all possible. And then he deals with the consequences alone. This has always been intentional—if the blood is on his hands alone, then only he can see the worst things in himself. No casualties except the good intentions that might’ve been there before.

The moving vehicle runs over a pothole in the road, the jolt bringing Javier back to the present assignment at hand. It’s just another run-of-the-mill one, some sketchy location to check out, but it feels like he’s been in this car for hours, trapped with no reprieve from his incessantly tireless mind. Trujillo navigates from the front seat while Murphy is seated next to him in the back, muttering something about his plans later this evening. The middle back seat is empty, sans-you, and Javier ruminates on how there was a time where he would’ve begged for such a situation. 

He and Murphy are pissed on your behalf, too, but it’s just a short term thing and they’ll have to make do with Trujillo until you’re back. He lets out a quiet huff and Murphy looks at him, brows raised with a knowing expression. Javier shakes his head, brushing him off, and stares back out the window. Even with the AC on blast in the car, there’s no escape from the heat of the afternoon sun. He swipes at the beads of sweat on his forehead, impatiently waiting for this assignment to be over with. 

“Ay, Peña, why so glum?” Trujillo jeers from the front. “At least it wasn’t your ass on the line, for once,” he remarks.

Javier and Steve’s heads both snap up. “Fuck off, Trujillo,” Javier shoots him down, wiping the grin off his face. 

A wave of guilt suddenly floods through him. He’d inadvertently put you in danger multiple times, and now your job had been compromised, too. Maybe the latter wasn’t entirely his fault, but when he found you with the informant and saw the look in your eyes, he recognized it as something he often saw in the mirror. And you deserve better than to sleep with the monsters in his bed. 

He’d known exactly what you were doing when you’d pushed him away, but he still let you do it, for everyone’s best interest. Still, there’s a small part of him that didn’t want you to. Javier is far from deserving to have something like that, something good, where the demons might quiet down just a bit. But it’s a calming thought nonetheless.

After his semi-drunken talk with you the other night, he’d held on to a small fragment of hope that you might change your mind about everything. He remembers the conversation vividly, especially the parts of him that had been made bolder by the liquor. 

Murphy casts a glance at him again, probably wondering what the fuck has been wrong with him. Javier doesn’t know himself. Somewhere between getting shot and now, something’s been different for him. He’s always been cautious to let anyone in for too long; his home has always been a dark place with room for just one. He never thought you’d be the one to sneak up on him like this. 

Right from the beginning you’d wanted nothing to do with each other, which, considering how much he couldn’t stand you anyways, he had been perfectly content on keeping it this way. 

Even from your first day as partners, you'd clashed with each other on just about everything. Things were kept professional, of course, but there wasn't much beyond mere civility. Going off the fact that you were nothing like him, Javier kept a distance. One less thing to stress about. He nearly laughs at the irony of it now.

Javier knows he’s still the same man as he was back then. People rarely change. But one infuriating, stubborn person might have helped him see a different side of things. He’s hardly ever thought of himself as a good man, but when he’s around you, he starts to let himself believe it.

He’s a man who can find company if he wants it. Someone to let off steam with and then move on from, left alone with himself. But for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t want to be anymore. Javier’s spent many nights lying in a newly-empty bed, playing with the idea of not facing the darkness alone. Of having someone’s warm presence next to him under the covers of a heavy night. Until lately, he hadn’t realized that it’s not just anyone he wants by his side in that cold, vacant space, but you.

~

It’s been another long, tedious day at work, so you’re eager to finally get in your car and make your way home. You’re one of the last to leave the office, as usual, even if you don’t have any need to stay after-hours. 

It’s not as hot this evening, but the forecast said there would be rain later tonight so the air is still disgustingly humid, the moisture sticking to you as soon as you step outside the embassy. The clouds have already started coming in, so the sky is a dark grey smearing of hues. Your shoes clack on the concrete on your way to the car, but your heels don’t ache the way they do when you’ve been out in the field. As strange as it is, you don’t mind the way your body aches after a productive day, so you miss it. Your muscles are tense, but it’s not from being at your desk all day. You slam the car door shut behind you, noting the circles under your eyes in the mirror before sighing and starting the engine.

When you finally make it back to your apartment complex, you decide that you don’t want to go inside just yet. The frustration has long since left you, but now you’re just...exhausted, from more than one thing. You need somewhere to just breathe, and start walking towards the small park next to the apartments. You don’t mind the fact that the storm clouds are getting darker, a small rumble of thunder sounding off in the distance. You round the corner and step off the concrete path towards a grassy area with some park benches. There aren’t many trees here and there isn’t much to look at, but it’s a nice place to sit and think, so it’ll do. It’s here that you allow yourself to completely immerse yourself in everything that’s been on your mind. 

You’ve always weathered things on your own, especially here. There’s too much risky business that goes on for you to complicate things by involving anyone else. The more blood and damage you see, the more you’ve been able to convince yourself that your decisions were for the best. You never expected this to be complicated by one Javier Peña. You’ve been doing your best to ignore your feelings, but sometimes that’s more exhausting than facing them headfirst. There’s been many nights where you’ve had your emotions gutted raw by the things you’ve seen and done, but it’s never occurred to you that you’re not only one who’s carried it alone. Not until recently, anyways. 

Javier has always been one to not let anyone in. You’d never considered that he’s a lot like you. He’s reckless about his ways, albeit passionate. You’ve always thought of yourself as hesitant; reserved until you can think things through. But you’ve kept people away, too, and maybe that’s been reckless in itself. It’s hard to keep people close when you live a life like this one. But it’s been a while now that you’ve known you wanted more, that it wouldn't be anymore dangerous than what you already do. You can only hope that you haven’t fucked things up permanently with him.

You fidget with the buttons on your cardigan, unclasping then clasping them, just about ready to head home, when a loud crack of thunder interrupts your thoughts, sending with it the onset of the rainfall. With no cover, you ought to run back, but you opt to stay put instead of running from the storm. The rain starts to pour, slowly, until it becomes a steady downfall. You feel it soak your hair first, then your shoulders as the cold wetness absorbs into the fabric of every layer of the rest of your clothes, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It drips down and covers your eyelashes and you have to blink them away in order to see. You don’t know how long you’re there for, but the rain continues to fall gently and you close your eyes, savoring the nice change of weather as it coats your hair and skin. 

After a while longer, you feel the pouring stop and open your eyes, expecting to find a calmer sky. Instead, you find Javier standing over you, holding an umbrella that’s barely big enough to cover you both. 

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he takes a seat next to you, not leaving any space in between your bodies this time, the warmth of his skin calming against your own. He holds the umbrella in one hand, the other brushing the curls out of his face as he meets your eyes, a barely-there but reassuring smile on his lips. 

Something about this moment makes you feel all the more vulnerable; exposed. Still, you know that you're safe, at least in this very moment. You give him a tiny smile in return, holding back a shiver. Explanations don’t seem to be needed as you sit silently, only paying attention to the rain falling into puddles in front of you and the way you’re tucked neatly against him, both of you devoid of any tension for the first time in a while.

Wordlessly, you lean onto his shoulder, resting your head on him. Not a single word is spoken, but nothing has to be said when you both already know. The rain continues to hit the umbrella with soft patters above you. You stay like that for a while, simply existing in each other’s presence, until Javier softly nudges you. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he tells you. You nod and follow as he walks with you back to the complex, arm-to-arm but not touching otherwise. Once you get to cover, he shakes out the umbrella before closing it, along with some of the water droplets that landed in his now-messy hair.

You’re cold as soon as you step inside, the air chilling your wet clothes and hair. Both of your shoes squeak as you make your way down the hallway. He stops when you approach his door, which is closer to the entrance than your own.

“Do you want to come in?” he murmurs softly. It's not often that you find Javier Peña unsure of himself, but his voice is telling. You think on it for a moment, but it’s without hesitation when you nod again.

He unlocks the door and you follow him in, shrugging off your damp cardigan. He tosses the keys on the counter and turns on the lamp, then looks you up and down. You’re soaked from head to toe, with your hair plastered to your skin.

“Stay there, I’ll be right back,” he says, quickly walking to his room. You walk over to the living room and shuffle on your heels as you wait for him to return.

When he reappears he’s already changed into a dry shirt, and comes over to you with a thick towel in hand. You hold out your hand for it but he ignores the motion, moving closer as he delicately wraps the towel around your head, gently dabbing the dampness out of your hair. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time, looking at you with an intensity you haven’t seen from him before, not even the last time you’d been this close to him. Delicately, he pats the towel along your face and neck, wiping away the rest of the droplets of rain. You feel your breaths getting shaky but you don’t look away. His lips are slightly parted as he removes the towel, tossing it aside without breaking eye contact and stepping closer, with a hint of hesitation. He’s inches away, holding himself carefully in front of you, close enough for you to feel his warm breaths on your cheeks.

There’s a mutual understanding as he glances down at your lips then back up to your eyes, and Javier softly places an arm around your waist, pulling you in against him and closing the space between your bodies as you set a hand on his chest. It may be in your imagination, but you can feel his heart pounding, too. His other hand hovers timidly over your cheek before moving to rest on the space beneath your jaw as he leans in even closer, still looking into your eyes as your own heart threatens to race out of your chest. 

Practically the only things not touching are your lips, his and your patience both wearing thin until there’s none left.

“You alright?” he asks quietly, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek.

“Yeah,” you whisper in response, nearly breathless.

You hear him swallow before he gently presses his forehead to yours, his eyes half-closed. “You’re not going to run away again, are you?” Javier teases, but his voice is hoarse, the words cracking a little as they leave his lips. You can’t think straight, simply shaking your head and letting out a quiet chuckle.

Every time this has happened before, you’ve felt the heated, maddening desperation in the room. But when Javier finally presses his lips to yours, it's just one small kiss at first, then a pause, before he kisses you again, softly and carefully, more than you’d ever thought was possible for him. His lips are warm against your own, which are still cold from the rain. He keeps a hand resting along your back, holding you flush against him as you feel him relax fully into you. You run your hand through the curls of his hair, his breath warm on your tongue as his lips move against yours. 

He moves his hand from your face, breaking the kiss with a smirk on his face. His breathing is quickened, both of you left winded. Your knees have gone weak; you hardly know how you’re still able to stand.

“You know, the bosses wouldn’t like this, but I guess you don’t mind—” he chuckles as you grip his shirt tighter, pulling him closer to you.

“Shut up, Peña, I—” his lips crash back onto yours before you can finish the sentence. He kisses you fervently, all-consumingly, but he’s far from being rough. Javier doesn’t like to take his time with anything, but when your whole body is curved against his like this, he wants all the time in the world.

The soft kisses become slower until you finally break away from each other, try to steady yourselves. Javier places one last kiss to your lips before resting his forehead on yours again. His eyes remain closed as you reach up and tenderly stroke his cheek with your thumb, feeling the way his jaw is completely relaxed.

He finally opens his eyes, trailing the backs of his fingers down your cheek to your jaw. “Will you stay tonight?” he asks, still catching his breath.

"If you can manage not to injure yourself this time," you mutter playfully.

Javier chuckles, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

"You are infuriating, agent," he whispers, keeping himself close to you.

"So are you," you tell him, a smile on your lips.

Javier rests his forehead against yours, moving his hand back to your cheek. 

For the first time in a long time, Javier knows he’ll rest through the night.

~

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[starsstruck]

cloudbusting; part four.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. horoscope readings, mandarin oranges, and star-gazing strolls.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 13k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for being patient with me for this chapter, i hope everything turned out okay ! a big huge thank you to the amazing tina @sunflowers-styles​ for helping me out and being the best beta ily ❤️❤️ as always let me know what you think and please share if you can ! i love to hear everyone's thoughts and comments <3 happy reading !

Sat comfortably on Mae’s couch, you were taking a big bite of the hummus covered carrot that you had just grabbed.

“I have some frozen perogies!”

Mae’s voice floated from the kitchen, both of your laziness to make a proper dinner was about to be satisfied with hummus and snacks before Mae started digging through her fridge.

“That sounds perfect!” You called back, reaching over her coffee table for another carrot. You could hear her shuffling through the kitchen, reappearing by the couch with a box of herb flavoured crackers in hand.

“I’ll put them on later,” she hummed, seating herself next to you while turning down the volume of the Fiona Apple that was playing through the speaker. “Don’t feel like cooking just yet.”

“How was the weekend away?”

Mae had just come back from a two-night stay with her partner’s parents, at their place out in Rochester. “It was good – honestly it was pretty nice to completely get away from everything, even if it was for a bit, and even if it was with Robin’s parents.”

“That sounds lovely,” you nodded, unable to help yourself as you kept reaching for more crackers. “It’s good you got to relax for a bit.”

“Work has been far too stressful lately,” Mae nodded. “Aren’t you getting some time off soon as well?”

You rolled your eyes, waiting until you finished chewing your carrot until you spoke. “I guess. It’s not really going to be relaxing for me though.”

She shot you a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be okay – if things get too bad tell me, and I’ll come over with some kind of emergency.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you laughed, not wanting to think about the reason you were going to be taking some time off work.

“Don’t think about that just yet,” Mae told you, a smile lining her lips. “How’s work going otherwise? Oh! Anything new with the painter boy?”

You bit your lips together, watching the bowl of homemade hummus as if it was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen. You knew Mae could read you well, and you knew that as soon as you averted your gaze that she’d be onto something.

“Something did happen?” She repeated the question, voice rising in excitement as you tried to hold back your little smirk.

“He ate me out on the floor of his apartment.”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Mae sprang up, back straightening out as she turned to fully face you. “Last I heard you weren’t even sure if he was even going to make a move on you.”

“Well…” you trailed off, not knowing what else to say. “He did.”

It had been three days since you last saw Harry. You had your usual two days off, coming back to work just this Saturday morning.

After the little distraction from your painting session, you had pulled your dress back over your knees. And with starry eyes and warm cheeks, you sat up with legs pressed to his and your arms around his neck to pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

He had tugged you closer to him until you were practically sitting on his lap, muttering near nonsense against your mouth. “You’re unreal, you know that?” and “Sound so good saying my name like that, could listen to you for hours.”

Just the mere thought brought butterflies to your stomach; which was something you thought only happened to protagonists in romance novels.

You could still feel his warm breath against your skin and the sweet nothings he had kissed onto your lips.

“Was he good?”

Mae really didn’t need to ask; she could tell by the look on your face. You nodded, confirming her suspicion with a smile bit between your teeth. “Really good.”

“I love that,” she chuckled lightly. “Anything else happen? And wait, when exactly did this happen?”

“Few days ago – I went over to his to do some painting with him. I actually ran into him last weekend when I was out which was when he first kissed me.”

“What? You never told me that.” She mocked a pout, not actually upset with you.

“I haven’t seen you!” You laughed, always favouring to tell her things in person rather than on the phone or through text. 

“I suppose…” she laughed. “Have you seen him since?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean it was only three days ago.”

“Do you have plans to see him again?”

Again, you shook your head. “No – I don’t know. I realized I don’t even have his number or anything, I usually just see him at my work.”

“You could always DM him,” Mae nodded, reminding you of the time you both had spent scrolling through his Instagram.

“That’s true,” you bit at your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what he wants or anything.”

You fell quiet for a second, still gnawing at your lip. When you thought about it, you really only ever did see him at your work and other than his art practice and what kind of coffee he liked to drink, you didn’t know that much about him.

“Did anything else happen?”

“No,” you again shook your head. “He said that we didn’t have to do anything more if I didn’t want to – honestly I would’ve returned the favour but things just didn’t really go that way.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

The wheels in your head were spinning. “Maybe he just wants something physical, I don’t know…”

Mae rolled her eyes. “Don’t jump the gun. By the sound of everything I kind of doubt that, he didn’t even get off.”

“I mean, is that weird? Maybe he does that – like in Sex and the City.”

Mae let out a loud laugh. “Life is not like Sex and the City, stop comparing yourself to that shitty show. Also, what does it have to do with anything?”

“That’s a plot,” you nodded, hating yourself for remembering all the awful plot points from the 90s TV show. “Charlotte dates this guy who’s like, notorious for going down on women and wants nothing else from a relationship.”

Mae raises an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” shaking your head, a small furrow in your brow as you actually couldn’t remember how the episode had ended. “It wasn’t bad – but it wasn’t good. That’s all he did – he wasn’t a good guy or something, I don’t remember. He only was in the one episode.”

Mae laughed.  “Babe you’ve got to stop watching that show.”

“It’s entertaining,” you shrugged, fully knowing Mae also loved to indulge in the guilty pleasure with you.

“What does this have to do with Harry – your Harry?” Mae made the distinction, as if you would have only thought about Harry Goldenblatt, Charlotte’s second husband of the show.

“I don’t remember,” you muttered, bottom lip still between your teeth as you couldn’t for the life of you remember why it was bad that Charlotte dated a guy that only wanted to eat her out.

Snapping yourself out from the mess in your mind, you shook your head. “Anyway, sorry. Things are good, I’m just overthinking.”

Mae was quiet for a second. “Do you like him?”

You paused, already knowing your answer but being slightly afraid of it. “I think I do.”

It was two days later when you saw Harry again. With your usual Monday opening shift, the slow morning had you leaning against the counter flipping through the daily newspaper as you found yourself with not much else to do.

Playing with the paper straw that was in your third coffee of the day, you blindly brought it up to your mouth just as you heard someone walk through the door.

An older man with a red baseball cap shuffled through the propped open door, giving you a two-finger wave as he walked over to the counter.

“Morning,” he chirped, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter as you went to grab his morning muffin. “Nice day out, isn’t it?”

One pet peeve you had about your job, was the weather talk that every patron seemed to insist on having. They all loved to chat about the bright sun outside while you were stuck working inside. “Beautiful day.”

Grabbing the bill from the counter, your eyes flitted back to the front door as you were counting out the customer’s change. A familiar silhouette of someone else walking through the door had caught your attention, eyes widening a bit when you realized it was Harry who had just come in.

He had his usual canvas bag over his shoulder, light wash blue jeans and a white shirt with some kind of graphic you couldn’t see on it.

Feeling your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest, you turned your attention back to the regular (who’s name you couldn’t remember, Bill or something) with the red cap and handed him his change.

Shooting Harry one more look, forcing the corners of your lips not to open in a wide smile while you moved to prepare a small americano.

As you watched the espresso pour into the mug, you willed your body not to flush at even being in the same room as Harry. You felt like you were thirteen, with a silly crush on a boy you’d only ever spoken to once. Except that this was much more real than a small crush.

You had never really felt this way with anyone before.

“Small americano,” you spoke not too loudly in the near empty café, your voice easily carrying over the sound of Françoise Hardy’s Voilà.

The red capped regular grabbed his coffee, pouring a generous amount of cream in it with a small thank you before he headed to his table near a window, ready for his breakfast with his book.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Harry having placed his things at his usual table and was tapping away on his phone. Cleaning out the portafilter, you wiped off the counter before deciding to head back to your coffee and newspaper.

It was not even a minute later that you felt a presence loom from the other side of the counter.

“Morning,” Harry’s voice was a quiet rasp, clearing his throat as you shot him a glance.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Hi,” you hummed, willing yourself to stop your flush at the memory of the last time you saw him. Hand reaching out for your no longer iced coffee, straw between your lips as you looked up at him again. “What’s your sign?”

Harry’s brow furrowed, a twitch of a smile at his mouth. “What?”

You motioned to the open newspaper in front of you on the counter. “Your sun sign – I’m reading horoscopes.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m an Aquarius. Are you reading all of them?”

You nodded with your own little laugh. “I like to compare them, plus I’m a bit bored. So,” your eyes skimmed over the newsprint. “An Aquarius hm?”

“Is that bad?”

You only hummed, finding it on the page and pausing before reading his daily horoscope to him. “Under today’s amorous skies, sometimes less is more. Resist the urge to come on too strong to a new romantic prospect. A star-gazing stroll through nature could be the perfect way to add a dash or romance to your evening. And who knows? Your nighttime adventure could even bring artistic inspo.”

A few seconds of silence washed over the two of you. Harry had his bottom lip between his teeth, unable to help the nervous twist in his stomach. The horoscope was just a bit too accurate, especially with who was reading it to him.

“That’s – that’s something.” He said after a moment. The bright sun made the little pink blush on his cheeks obvious. He cleared his throat, looking to change the subject. “What’s yours say?”

“Mine isn’t nearly as nice, a bit of a filler horoscope if you ask me.” You sighed, searching for your sign on the page even though you’d just read it not long ago. “Today is all about adventure. Today’s thrill-seeking skies get your engines revving. Expand your horizons, whether you embark on a cross country road trip or rent a cabin in the woods. It’s all about a change in scenery and spiritual balance.”

“Sounds like you need to seek some thrill.” Harry laughed, the words you had read to him about his own horoscope still stuck in his head.

“I guess I do,” you bit back a smile, closing the paper. “Did you only come in for readings today? Or maybe a coffee too?”

“So many reasons I came in today,” he shot you a smile, almost a nervous one.

“Well then,” you hummed, pushing yourself away from the counter to go start preparing a coffee for him. “Let me grab you a drink.”

He followed you, from the other side of the counter, to the espresso machine. After tamping the grounds and waiting for the shot, you placed a hand on your shoulder as you circled your opposite arm, feeling the ever growing knot under your skin. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled lightly. “It’s just my shoulder – I call it barista shoulder. Not everyone gets it, I think it depends on the way you tamp the espresso.” 

You saw the confusion on his face. 

“Tamping – it’s when you use this,” you reached over to grab the heavy tool used to press down grounds. “I honestly don’t know what it’s called - I think it’s just called a tamper? Anyway, you press down the grounds to form this kind of espresso puck.” 

You mimicked the motion, twisting your body. “You need to use a bit of force so I got into the habit of using my entire side to push it down. Some people press just in the wrist or their arm. My old boss had the same issue as me – after years of the repetitive motion it kind of fucks with your whole side; your arm, shoulder, ribs, everything.”

“Your ribs?” 

You quickly stopped the shot that was still pouring, having nearly forgotten about it. 

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly with a sheepish smile. “I went to see a physio for it, I have two ribs that are a bit dislocated.” 

“What?! You have dislocated ribs?!” Harry looked a bit scared. 

“Partially,” you corrected, as if it made a big difference. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Kind of, yeah,” you nodded. “I try and stretch it out often, I even got acupuncture for it once. It’s more of a dull pain.” 

“Jesus,” he muttered, a small shake to his head. “Dangerous work you do here.” 

You only laughed, scooping out some ice from the machine and placing a few cubs into the glass cup, some espresso splashing onto your hand.

Placing the cup on the counter, you nudged it across in his direction. “For you.” 

“Thank you,” his fingers reached for it, before sliding it a few inches before stopping.

“Oh!” He disappeared for a moment, quickly walking to his table before reappearing in front of you, all in the few seconds the espresso had been pouring for. “Brought these for you.”

He had two mandarin oranges in his hand, holding them out in your direction before placing them on the counter between the two of you.

You were so endeared you wanted to throw them at his head.

“I remembered how you said you usually forget to eat in the morning – actually I don’t even know if you like oranges. You don’t have to – well anyway they’re there for you if you want them.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, warming at the small action. You did in fact enjoy oranges; you loved the smell of them as well. “I love mandarin oranges”

“Me too,” Harry grinned, done with his rambling. “Love the colour too – actually I like the colour tangerine even better,” he smirked lightly, apparently not done with his rambling. “But I only had mandarin oranges.”

“Any citrus fruit really is divine,” you giggled, grabbing one in each hand.

Harry saw you disappear behind the espresso machine for a brief second, only the top of your head visible between the mugs, before you turned back towards him while wiping your hands on your jeans.

He held the small glass between his fingers, mouth dropping open to speak but nothing came out when both your attentions turned to see a family waiting for you to take their order.

You only shot him a little smile, grabbing the pen from your back pocket and moved to take their order.

Harry went to go take his seat, pulling out his usual workbook that was slowly but surely filling up with page after page of colourful sketches.

He thought over the words you had read out to him about his horoscope. He never was one to take that in a serious manner, quite frankly not knowing a lot about astrology at all. But he took it as a sign since you specifically were the one reading it out to him.

Finding himself sketching small drawings of stars and the reflection of the sky on the water, unable to help but momentarily flick his eyes up to the front counter every so often, where you would often be found standing.

He watched the way you asked a man about the book he was reading, the way the customer was so excited to share it with you. You had that effect on a lot of patrons, he noticed. You made them feel comfortable and welcomed in the little café.

With his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered even when you weren’t directly interacting with him.

Continuing with your separate tasks in the café for the next hour or so, as Harry didn’t want to bug you when a small line up never seemed to go away.

Walking up to the front after that line up finally did subside, empty glass in hand that he placed in the dirty dish bin, before he peered around the café as he couldn’t see you.

He finally did find you in the back room, one leg bent and knee resting on the stool. In one hand you had your phone held in front of you, attention drawn towards it. In your other hand you were holding a few orange slices, mindlessly chewing on them.

After watching you for a second longer, he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb any peace you had settled into.

You blinked while you turned your head, a slice of mandarin orange just placed into your mouth as you put your phone down on the table in front of you.

“Oh, hey sorry,” you placed your foot on the ground, orange on the table as you walked over to the doorframe. He could smell the orange on you as you neared him. “Just taking advantage of the lull.”

“No of course, didn’t mean to bug you –”

“– just wanted to ask,” he paused, leaning his hip against the wall next to him. He was only slightly intruding in on the space that was technically just for the workers, watching as you rested you back against the doorframe behind you with a few mandarin orange slices still in hand. “Are you doing anything Wednesday night?”

It was your turn to pause, eyes leaving his for a second as you chewed on your orange slice. “I close – otherwise I don’t think so, why?”

“There’s an opening show, my friend has a whole series in it. It’s at the same gallery that we work at sometimes, it’s just a tiny show but – well I’d love it if you came with me.”

Your eyes fell to his again. He could see a smile starting to grow on your mouth, corner of your lip between teeth. “What time is it at?”

“Starts at eight, but it goes until eleven. You don’t need to be there right at eight.”

You nodded, and although he felt like you were dragging this out a bit on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel a small pit of nerves grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay,” you hummed, voice quiet as your eyes darted over to the front counter to check for customers. “I’m usually done around quarter past seven – I can probably head over for eight-thirty? Give or take, depending on where it is.”

He knew he was smiling so wide that his cheeks were dimpling. “So, you can come?”

“I’d love to,” you returned his smile.

“Amazing,” the butterflies in his stomach flew away. “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address.”

He watched you pat your back pocket, not finding the red pen that was usually placed there. Taking a second to check the back room, reappearing with a little scrap of paper and a pen.

He scribbled down the information you need, watching you fold up the little piece of paper and place it in your back pocket along with the pen.

“I have to head over a bit earlier, moral support and all, but I can meet you there?” Harry asked.

“Sounds good,” you hummed, excitement growing at the idea of spending more time with Harry outside of the café.

“I have to head out soon,” he spoke, “but I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, lips together as he bid you a little goodbye. Just as you were debating about if you should hug him, or say anything else, a group came in waiting to be served. As always, you were interrupted by other patrons. “See you Wednesday!” 

The following two days flew by. That Wednesday evening, you were giddy as you closed, rushing through all your duties.

Closing with Saya took no time at all, and soon you were walking with a fast pace in your step to head back home. You knew you actually had plenty of time to get ready, but you were taking your sweet time and wanted the process to be relaxing rather than stressful.

You didn’t really know what one wore to a gallery opening. It was a small show; that was all Harry had really said. It’d probably be casual, so you didn’t want to overdress, but you also didn’t want to look too out of place.

After washing your face, you were throwing clothes around your room as you searched for what to change into. It was then you realized that Harry had only really seen you in clothes you wore to work. It wasn’t that you dressed poorly at work, in fact you liked to think you had quite a nice,  casual style, but you still felt like dressing up just a bit.

You finally settled on a dark navy dress that had orange seams embroidered up the sides and around the hem. It was the kind of dress that would look good on anyone, that fit and clung to every dip and slope of your body.

Grabbing a nearly sheer black blouse to throw over your shoulders, slipping on your trusty white sneakers, hoping that you were walking on the line between casual and formal.

With a little beaded bag over your shoulder with everything you’d need for the night, you checked the time once more before heading out the door.

It didn’t take you as long as you thought it would to make it out the door, and finally you were double checking the address on your phone before being met with the red sign over the gallery and the glass double doors.

Smiling at the man dressed in a bright red blazer who stamped your hand,  you walked through the open doored entrance. You immediately felt a tad out of place, seeing everyone chatting and talking and drinking and laughing – all together.

You let your eyes skim over the space, taking in the gallery. It was fairly large, considering Harry had described it as “just a tiny show”. The room was big and open, and there seemed to be another room that opened up around a curved wall.

Gaze jumping from person to person, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit out of place. Tentatively walking through the gallery, deciding to simply make your way around and hope to find Harry along the way.

It was when you were looking at a big dark painting, one that had different strokes of grays and browns across a large canvas, that a familiar voice spoke quietly to your left.

“Happy to see you made it.”

Turning around to see Harry, not realizing how close he had come up behind you. You had to take a little step back, the corner of your lips perking up as you saw his mouth already in a wide smile. He was wearing wide black trousers with a fitted simple black shirt, and orange converse sneakers.

“Sorry I’m late,” you spoke softly as he stood close to you.  “Had a bit of an outfit crisis.”

Not moving his feet, he leaned his body closer to yours until the sleeve of his shirt brushed your arm. His shoulder bumping yours, he slid a hand around your waist so that it rested on the small of your back.

With a light pressure against your dress, he drew you in closer so your side was pressed against his. Feeling a puff of air as he exhaled hit the side of your neck, his head lightly dipped down until his lips neared your ear.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. You shivered under his touch, even in his warm embrace. Eyes darting around you, feeling a bit lost just in the moment the both of you had shared. You felt a quick kiss pressed to your temple, before his face retreated from yours.

You could feel heat spread across your chest along with a little flutter in your stomach that somehow made you even warmer. Momentarily not knowing what to say, you faced him with a smile. “Thank you.”

His hand lingered over the fabric of your dress for a moment longer, before it fell to his side along with a little step away from you. Although with your shoulder still against his, you remained close to him as you both turned back to the painting that you had been observing.

“What do you think about this one?” Harry’s voice was low in your ear.

You opened your mouth, not really knowing how to tell him that you didn’t like it one bit. “It’s very… beige.”

“I agree,” he hummed. A touch of his fingertips on your arm pulled your eyes away from the art, arm jumping just the slightest at the contact. With a loose grip of his fingers around your wrist, he was soon tugging you by the arm across the floor of the gallery. “I’ll show you the good stuff,” he said, keeping his voice low.

He pulled you around the curved corner, into the second part of the gallery. You immediately noticed the lights on this side were a bit dimmer, a warmer glow to them rather than a harsher white light.

“All these in here are done by my friend, Yanis.” He hummed, stopping in front of one of the large paintings on the wall with a light drop of your arm from his hand.

“I helped out with a few, but really it's all him.”

“You helped out with some?” You turned to catch a glance at Harry.

He nodded. “Here and there – nothing that big. He just needed a hand.”

“That’s sweet,” you hummed. You liked that, them helping each other out with their paintings. It was just all so uplifting and supportive.

Just as Harry’s mouth opened to speak, his name was called by a deep and unfamiliar voice to you. You both turned, seeing a shorter man with black curly hair in a bun approach the both of you.

“We were just talking about you,” the man spoke towards Harry, his eyes pausing on you for a moment before he turned back to Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Your name left Harry’s lips – introducing you to his friend.

“I’m Yanis. So, you’re the famous barista Harry’s been telling me about?”

You smiled at his words, eyes flicking to where Harry stood next to you and watched the pink tint the tip of his ears. “Famous?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Only famous one here is you, Yanis. The show looks like a big hit.”

You didn’t miss how quickly he changed the subject, but you turned back to Yanis. “It really does look incredible. I haven’t seen everything yet but I already like what I see.”

You mentally cringed, still feeling like a bit of an idiot whenever you tired to compliment art. You really needed to learn the right things to say.

Just as you were about to try and say something else, two more people joined Harry’s friend on either side of him.

“There you are!” A tall dark-haired woman spoke towards Harry. She was wearing a red shirt that matched her long skirt, with platform shoes and an array of necklaces. “I was worried you had left.”

“Just showing my friend around,” Harry spoke your name smoothly. You didn’t dwell on the way he had called you his friend, but it also didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh,” she turned her attention to you, while Yanis and the other man seemed to begin a new conversation. “Sorry, I’m Rory.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled in her direction. You saw her give your appearance a quick once over, and you especially saw the way her full attention turned back to Harry.

“Everything looks so great,” she spoke towards him.

“It’s all this guy.” Harry let his hand fall onto his friend's shoulder, giving it a little pat. “We were just starting to look around actually, so I’ll catch up with you lot in a bit.”

In a quick move, Harry’s hand was brushing against your lower back, and he was guiding you towards the wall on the opposite end. You felt his fingers bunch lightly in the thin fabric of your blouse, side pressing lightly against yours.

“Sorry –” he muttered, leaning a bit closer to you as the both of you stopped in front of a painting across from where you had been previously standing. There was a sea of red and pink mountains, along with a bright blue skin and big yellow sun. “Knew we could get stuck there for a while – wanted you to see everything first.”

You only hummed in response, a small nod in your head as you kept your eyes forward. Although you did find yourself so drawn to the art on the wall, you couldn’t help but let your mind spin and spin around until the words were falling from your mouth.

“Rory,” you murmured, bottom lip between your teeth, “she has a thing for you, no?”

You could hear Harry pause from next to you, “I – yeah. Well, no – we used to date.”

Only nodding, you kept your eyes forward although you knew Harry was burning holes into the side of your face.

“We still kind of run in the same circle – it ended a long time ago I didn’t –”

He stopped rambling when you turned to face him. “It’s okay,” you forced a little laugh to your voice. “I was just wondering.”

Harry fell quiet again, as you turned back to the paintings on the wall in front of you. “I’m really happy you came with me,” he whispered, lips nearing your ear after a moment. “I’m really happy you’re here.” 

You turned your head around, glancing at him over your shoulder. He didn’t move away from you, hand on your back giving your hip a little squeeze before slipping away from your body. He hit your hand with his, letting his hand fall to his side.

The words he spoke were swimming through your head, having you bite your lips together to fight off a wide smile. Just the way he was looking at you made your knees weak.

“Okay,” you whispered, lips clamped together as you turned back around.

You spent the next few hours walking around, looking at everything, chatting with Harry’s friends. You had gotten along well with Yanis, he had talked at length about the series that was being exhibited and you were honestly in awe of everyone’s talent and creativity.

It was about half past ten and you were just heading back from a quick trip to the restroom, when your name being spoken had you looking around to see who it was.

Rory was slightly towering over you as she neared you, speaking your name again to grab your attention. “Haven’t gotten the chance to chat with you, how are you liking the show?”

Trying your best to hide the shock from your face, you sent her a smile as she stopped next to you. “I really like it – haven’t been to too many shows if I’m being honest, but this is for sure one of the best I’ve been too.”

“Yeah, Yanis really did amazing with everything – Harry too.”

You only nodded, not too sure what to respond in the moment. She kept speaking. “How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

The question took you a bit by surprise, but at the same time didn’t shock you all that much. “Oh, we’re not –”

You cut yourself off, and she took the moment to speak again. “Sorry I don’t mean to put you on the spot, we’re all just a bit nosy about Harry’s life sometimes.”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes narrowed slightly on her. “It’s no problem,” you shot her a small smile.

“Do you make art as well?” She changed the subject.

“No,” you caught Harry’s eye from across the floor of the gallery, “God no, I can barely take a decent picture. What about you?”

“Oh, sorry I just kind of assumed! But yes, I have my own practice. Mostly installation, plus some two-dimensional work as well as some performances here and there.”

Again, you wished you fully understood everything that was being discussed. “That’s so cool,” was all you said.

“Thank you,” she smiled down at you. “What do you do for work?”

“I uhm –” feeling somehow small for the words you were about to speak and a small pit of anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. “I work in a café.”

“She manages a café,” Harry’s voice surprised you slightly as it was suddenly heard from next to you. You turned, seeing him take a few more steps towards you and stopped when he was right next to you, facing Rory.

He was surprised to see the two of you speaking in the first place, a maybe the slightest bit worried when he saw the way you were slightly recoiling away from her.

“Oh nice!” She seemed a bit surprised from Harry’s arrival as well. “Sorry,” she paused, her eyes flitting over to somewhere behind you. “I just saw a friend I wanted to chat with before she leaves – it was nice meeting you!”

And then she was off.

You were quiet for a second, as you felt Harry’s hand brush over your middle. You barely registered the movement, bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a bit lost in your head – just the slightest offput from the conversation you had just had.

“Are you enjoying yourself?"

Harry’s voice pulled your attention away from your thoughts, shooting him a quick glance as his words registered. You nodded, a smile pulling at your lips as you saw his eyes never leave yours. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

You fully turned to face him, standing in front of him. He saw your gaze flick between his, curious look in your eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he paused. Unable to help his eyes from falling down to your mouth, he watched the way the lightly shining lips were curved in a smile. “I just remembered something I read in a horoscope. And I was thinking … fancy a star-gazing stroll?”

It was your turn to pause, fully turning on your feet until you were standing directly in front of him. He could tell that you were trying to keep the smile from growing on your lips, but the gleam in your eyes immediately gave you away.

“I think I read something about that somewhere too,” was all you said, speaking quietly enough for just the two of you. The teasing tone of your voice, paired with the way your eyes seemed to glow more with every passing second sent a warmth straight through Harry’s stomach.

“Is that a yes?”

You let out what could only be called a giggle. “Yeah, it is.” 

Harry didn’t try to hide his giddiness a single bit and sent a short nod towards you before he was again leading you through the gallery. With a quick stop by Yanis to give him a hug and congratulate him, and a wave on your part before he was pulling you out of the gallery.

He was a few steps in front of you, holding the glass door open as you stepped out next to him. This time, he didn’t try and hide the way his eyes fell to eye your outfit, eyelids dropping slightly with a smirk on his lips.

“Christ,” he muttered, joining you by your side. He watched the way you obviously noticed his stare, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “You really do look stunning.”

“You already said that,” you hummed. 

“Needed to be said again,” he couldn’t help but brush his fingertips over the raised orange embroidery that went up your side. “Also, I don’t know if you noticed sunshine, but we match.”

Sunshine.

You glanced down his outfit from the corner of your eye. The dark hues of both outfits along with a splash of orange looked like you guys had almost planned it. “I did notice, actually.”

“I think that’s quite sexy of us.”

You laughed, following Harry along the sidewalk.

The air outside had cooled down a bit, still warm enough that you were perfectly content in what you were wearing but not so hot that your skin felt sticky.

Harry led the way through the emptying streets, walking so close that it seemed every other step his hand hit yours. He really felt like he had been flirting with the idea of grabbing your hand for what, maybe a week now? He just wanted to grab you, hold you close.

Hell, he had been a lot closer to you than that before.

Walking through a darkened alleyway to take a quick short cut, you shuffled even closer to him. You kept your eyes focused on your surroundings out of habit, even if you were trusting where Harry was bringing you.

It was then that when his hand hit yours, it didn’t move away like it usually did and instead his pinky finger caught your own and soon he was lacing every last one of his fingertips with yours until your palms kissed.

Harry kept his gaze forward, but from the corner of his eye he saw you shoot your newly intertwined hands a quick look. While revelling in the way that your palm felt in his, and in the way that  every finger laced with his seemed to cause a tiny jolt to go  straight  through his body, he nearly missed the way you pulled yourself even closer into him.

By the time the water was invading your sight, after about fifteen minutes or so of walking in peaceful silence, Harry noticed the way you were walking so close to him your head was nearly resting on his shoulder.

He basked in the way you seemed to draw into him as much as he did you, and the way that you urged to be close to him and feel yourself against him just as much. The thought itself sent a new wave of butterflies straight through his stomach, clouding his mind as his pace slowed near the water. 

Clearing his throat, he turned to catch a glance at you. “I remember you telling me how you like to walk along the river, but you didn’t get to do it that often.”

Smiling softly at the memory of the conversation the two of you shared after running into each other at the grocery store; you thought of that as the first time you really felt captivated by Harry.

“Is this kind of what you meant?” He asked.

You glanced around, seeing a wooden boardwalk start not too far off. “Not quite.”

Turning around and tugging him by the hand, following the expanse of the water until your shoes were walking over wooden boards that hovered above the river.

Your pace slowed even more, your hand fell from his grip as you glanced around and took in the sights around you. It was a relatively calm night out, no harsh winds upsetting the murky waters. The lights ended by the street, only a soft hue for the two of you as the boats docked out on the water were barely in sight.

There didn’t seem to be any other people out near you – then realizing that you had no idea what time it was, something that wasn’t often the case and something that you enjoyed a great deal.

The moon was high and bright in the sky, with the few stars that could be seen dusting the sky. It was for sure a star-gazing stroll, just as Harry promised.

“Looks like a painting,” you spoke from next to him, gaze out over the moving surface of the water.

Nearing the railing, the two of you took slow steps along the wooden boards. Harry laughed softly from next to you, the sound carrying in the empty space.

“Have you always been into painting?” You asked, eyes trained on the wood in front of you.

Harry hummed next to you. “I think so, yeah. I guess you could say I was drawn to the arts since I was young, I remember my mum bought me a little painting kit when I was like seven or eight.”

You nodded as he continued to speak. “Started a bit more seriously through school, like getting into techniques and stuff. But I never thought I would ever try and make a career out of it or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Harry paused, hand pushing through his hair. “I actually studied marketing for a bit, thought I would go into business or something like that.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped past your lips, surprised by the news. “I’m sorry but I can’t picture you as a business student.”

“Yeah,” his cheeks dimpled. “Neither can I. Left after nearly two years. Then I started taking a few painting courses at a local art store and I’ve been doing just that ever since.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “And your family they were – I mean you made everything work out for you?”

He nodded again. “Obviously I kept a job for a while, I was actually working at that little art shop for a few years too. My family was okay with it – my mum especially was always supportive. I remember when I told her I wanted to leave school to work on art she said she couldn’t imagine me doing anything else.”

“I love that,” you hummed, biting your lips together. A small part of you wished that you had that kind of unconditional support. But you kept your lips together and pushed the thoughts from your head, not wanting to bring down the mood.

“I send her some of my paintings; take them off the frame and roll them up for her. Her and my sister flew out and came to my first show over here – even though I only had two works in it.”

Mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for having correctly assumed Harry couldn’t have been an only child with the way he acted. You really did love when your hunch about someone was proven right.

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled at him. “You must miss them.”

“I do, yeah.” He hummed, catching your eyes with his for a second. “But I am glad to have moved out here. I felt like it could be temporary – I would love to live in London someday but I’m really happy to be here.”

Only nodding, you felt yourself getting lost in your own thoughts for a brief second before Harry pulled you back out of them. “What about you, you miss home much?”

Shrugging, you didn’t know what to say. “I mean a bit, in the way that anyone gets nostalgic. But,” you took a breath.

“I know this sounds terrible but honestly I don’t. It’s… exhausting to be home. I moved further away for school for a reason.”

You didn’t know what else to say, hoping that Harry would jump in with something else. You shot him a quick look, seeing his eyes intent on yours as he listened and waited for you too keep speaking.

“That’s not terrible,” he spoke quietly, after a few more seconds in silence.

You hummed, not sure what to say. Walking in silence for a few more moments and taking another breath before you chose to speak again. “My parents live hours away from each other now anyway, so I feel like there’s not really a home to go back to, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice was soft.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m happy to have moved away – happy to be here too.”

Harry remained quiet, giving you the chance to go on if you wanted to. Although right now you really didn’t want to – you were having such a good evening and you didn’t want to bring any of that down by discussing your family.

Quietly walking side by side, with only the moon and the stars surrounding the both of you, Harry cleared his throat once more.

“So, what was it again that you like about this place?”

“Just the mood of it,” you shot him a glance. “Something about walking along the wood – I just really like it. And I like the smell too, I know it’s probably diesel and chemicals but it’s just oddly nostalgic for me for no real reason.”

“I see that,” Harry smiled. “So other than walking out here, what other small things make you happy?”

You were confused for a second, Harry further explaining himself after you didn’t answer.

“Just like, anything that could seem insignificant that you enjoy for whatever reason at all.”

“Oh,” you hummed, a small smile tugged at your lips at the question. You didn’t know why it made your heart soar that he was asking you about this – but it just did.

“This is really dumb,” you said after a moment. “But at work, I really like it when an older customer – they’re usually regulars – when they come in with their book and they get a coffee and a little cake or a treat and just sit there for hours.”

Pausing, not sure how to explain how you felt because right now it just sounded like any other interaction with a patron. “It's a happy-sad feeling – I don’t really know why. I love that coming into my café and having a chat with me is part of their routine, but there’s also something that just makes me feel the tiniest bit sad…”

Harry remained silent, letting you explain yourself. “It’s like, sometimes you watch a movie that has a happy ending, but you can’t help but feel the slightest bit melancholic, you know?”

Your eyes darted over to him, seeing him nod. “I know the feeling, yeah.”

Harry had never really thought about that before, never paying too close attention to the other patrons when he frequented your café. “You pay close attention to a lot of regulars, huh? I thought I was special.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as your shoulder bumped his.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” you teased, feeling his pace slow down, deciding to stop where you were.  You leant up against the railing that  kept you from the water.

“What about you?” You turned to him. “I know you said you didn’t want to share much about the paintings you're working on currently, but what’s something small that you like to pay attention to for your art?”

“I don’t want to bore you with every detail…” he started out, feeling like he had been speaking about his practice the entire time.

You shook your head. “I want to hear about your art – I like it.”

Harry slipped his lips between his teeth, head dipping down for a second as he felt his cheeks blush. “Well,” he started. “My current work is still very much in progress – not really ready for anyone to see or hear about it just yet.”

“But right now – or for the past year or so I’ve been really paying attention to moments between people.”

“Just … small touches or moments of intimacy, you know? Like seeing someone rest their head on someone else’s shoulder, seeing two people hug in a big crowd. Just small moments like that where you know that they’re in their own world.”

You were quiet, even after he was done speaking. Leaning your forearms against the wooden railing, feet kicking at nothing on the ground. You saw exactly what he explained – about the little touches of public, yet private, intimacy.

“I know what you mean,” you finally said, voice quiet as it carried over the space between the two of you. Harry has his back against the railing as he keeps his eyes on you.

After he realized you weren’t going to say anything else, he kept speaking. “It’s nice, you know? Seeing people wrapped up in their … love and adoration for each other like that.”

You hummed, his words swimming through your head. “Guess I never really thought about that –” cutting yourself off, before continuing even quieter, “– guess I haven’t really experienced it like that.”

Another wave of silence washed over you, before Harry turned in his place so that he could face you directly.

The reflection of the moon rippled in the water. “Have you ever been in love?”

His words caught you slightly off guard.

You had been in relationships, sure. You’d had partners tell you that they loved you, and maybe once or twice you returned the sentiment. But you didn’t really know what it meant.

“I –” you paused. “I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

You could just make out Harry’s expression. The lighting was sparse, but every little dip and curve on his features were clear as day, and his eyes held that little smile they often did.

“I know,” the words were too small puffs of air past your lips.

You held your breath in, before continuing. “I’ve always thought that I’d know, but I feel like I’ve never been in it in the way that you described. Not fully. I – I don’t know.”

The way he looked at you made your heart beat just a bit faster in your chest, so loud you were sure he must be able to hear it.

“It’s okay to not know,” he spoke so softly. You didn’t even realize you were leaning in closer to him until your knee bumped his.

“Have you?” You cleared your throat, the noise breaking through the otherwise quiet surrounding. “Have you ever been in love?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid of his answer.

“I think so, or,” Harry paused, a small furrow in his brow as his eyes were still intent on yours. “I thought so.”

This time, your heart stopped.

“Thought so?” Voice sounding a bit hoarse, you again found yourself afraid of his answer.

There was a small shrug in his shoulders. You couldn’t help but briefly think about Rory, about whether he was ever in love with her, but you shook the thought from your head.

“I guess… I guess I’ve been heartbroken before. I’ve loved, for sure. But I don’t know if I was really in love. If that makes sense.”

Maybe he really was just as confused as you were.

“I guess you don’t know until you’re really in it.” He had his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I guess you don’t,” you repeated.

What Harry wanted to tell you, was that he had never felt the way he did when he was with you.

He also didn’t know how to tell you – he really felt like he didn’t know anything at that moment either.

He was drawn to you from the first moment he had spoken to you, and found himself unable to ever get enough every time he saw you. It had been over a month and a half since he’d first walked into your café, since he’d first met you, and he couldn’t believe the way you made him swoon.

But he didn’t truly realize that, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

So instead, he reached forward so that his palm could rest under your jaw and stepped a tad closer to you. He saw you visibly leaning in to his touch, your eyelashes hitting the top of your cheeks for a brief moment with a slow blink.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he whispered, voice low as his knuckles brushed over your jaw.

You nearly sighed at his touch, butterflies in your stomach erupting once again when he spoke so softly. He always seemed to be able to grab such a strong hold on you – both physically and metaphorically – but all while treating you with the gentlest of touches. “Of course.”

“I really,” he paused with his own sigh. Hand on your jaw sliding over your skin, grabbing a light hold at the back of your neck. “I really like spending time with you like this.”

Only able to nod, almost having to look away from his intense gaze. There was nothing else to look at though, nothing else you wanted to look at. 

“Me too.” The words were barely there, just a pass of air from the back of your throat.

You felt his other hand smooth over your spine, fingertips finding your waist as he seemed to be blindly tracing the raised orange embroidery on your dress. Further leaning into his touch, you knew your eyes were darting all around his face as you were unable to focus on just one thing.

His own eyes fell down once more to the curve of your lips, and you felt them fall parted with your tongue wetting them on instinct.

“Can I kiss you?”

Nearly wanting to giggle at the question, as he had done much more than kiss you in the past week, and since the question seemed to be just a little late, but a laugh was the last thing on your mind right then.

All you could do was nod in his grasp, your eyes never leaving his – not for one single second. After a heavy swallow and a raspy little “yes” leaving your mouth, you let your hands fall to his shoulders to embrace him closer.

He pulled you closer in a quick motion, hand on your back holding you tight. Your chest fell against his, head remaining upright with his thumb still under your jaw.

Lips pressing against yours lightly at first, like whispers of a kiss against your mouth. He pecked two, three, four kisses on your lips like that before you edged your jaw forward and let him fully capture your mouth.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears when he fully pressed his lips against yours, with just enough pressure and desire to make your head spin. A little gasp escaped the back of your throat when he grabbed hold of your bottom lip between his, a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive skin.

Lips parted together, never able to get enough of the way he felt against you. Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. He grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him. Hot breath mixing together, he pushed your back against the railing behind you just a bit more so that his hips could press with yours.

His hand on your back had migrated, dancing over the curve of your bum before sliding around and giving your hip a sharp squeeze. It never rested in one place, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your body against his.

You returned his fervour, one hand smoothing over his neck until your fingertips were being pushed through his hair. Fist closing as you tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a little groan from Harry before he was licking into you once more.

Minutes passed, you had no idea how long the two of you spent like that under the stars and the moon.

He pulled away, barely, for a breath with heavy eyelids trained on you. His forehead was a millimetre away, loose curls brushing over your skin and tip of his lips brushing yours when he spoke.

“I,” he sighed, voice sounding so close to you as your eyelids just barely opened. “I – you’re unreal.”

His voice rasped slightly, as if he had just been woken up. The way he murmured  quietly against you had your head spinning, thinking about how he would sound moaning your name. 

Just as he was moving in to capture your lips with his one more time, a quiet buzzing was heard from somewhere. It took you a moment to register that it was your phone that was sitting in your purse.

“I think that’s yours,” Harry chuckled quietly, air hitting your lips as he spoke.

“Oh, fuck I’m sorry,” you pulled your arms away from him, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your bag. Pulling your phone out, you saw your brother's name flash across the screen.

You knew you should answer it, but you didn’t want to and he had already interrupted you. Declining the call with a text, telling him you couldn’t talk right now, you placed your phone back into your bag.

“Sorry about that,” you hummed, gazing back up at Harry.

“It’s not a problem,” he grinned down at you, a hand still wrapped around your waist. “It is getting late though, let me get you home, yeah?”

Waking up to a ringing phone wasn’t ideal. Especially early on your day off.

At first you thought it was your alarm, and you tried to snooze it. And then when it started ringing again, you slowly blinked yourself out of sleep to squint at the phone screen.

Realizing it was a call, realizing it was a call from your boss at seven in the morning, you sprang up.

“Hello?”

She spoke your name, seemingly relieved to hear you answering the phone. “I’m so sorry to be calling you, I know it’s your day off.”

“It’s okay,” your voice was groggy. “What’s up?”

“No one’s at the shop right now – no one’s opened.”

You jumped out of bed this time, double checking the clock on your phone to see it five minutes past seven. “What?!”

“I happened to check the cameras this morning, and no one is there. Do you think you could head over there to open?”

You let out a sigh, hearing the desperation in her voice. She was away at the moment, otherwise you knew she would do it herself. It was also lucky that she could check the security cameras from her phone, something you knew she did very rarely.

“It would just be for a bit; I can get a hold of someone else to finish off the rest of the shift.”

“Yeah I can go over,” you were already looking for your pants. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much,” she rushed through the phone. “Noah was supposed to open today I think, right? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him but not luck so far.”

After getting off the phone with your boss, you quickly pulled on jeans and a bra, a baggy shirt over the rest of your body before jumping to the washroom.

There had been moments where you had to get ready in a rush before, of course you had, it happened to everyone to sleep past their alarm. But the magic of the opening shift is that even if you were late to the beginning of the shift, it was always possible to get there before the café actually opened.

Today you didn’t have that pleasure, you would likely be arriving after half past seven at the earliest.

Mentally cursing Noah, you tried to the best with your hair you possibly could and roughly rubbed in some moisturizer into your skin before you were running out the door.

After a not so elegant speed walk down the street, you were unlocking the café doors and unfortunately leaving the door propped open for anyone to walk in.

And to your displeasure, people did walk in. You had a grumbling regular who was mad he couldn’t come in bright and early, you had a big family grabbing an early breakfast, you just had too many people asking you for things all while trying to open the café.

It was only after an hour that things settled a bit, that you were able to catch a breather and actually grab yourself a glass of water.

You were sat on the little stool in the back room, keeping your eye on the front counter in case anyone showed up. Updating Grace, your boss and owner of the café, on how everything was fine on your end and that you still hadn’t heard a peep from Noah who was the one supposed to open today.

It was just as you sent him one more text, that your name was heard from a familiar voice. You saw Harry poking his head through the doorway, both of your expressions mirroring the others in your surprise.

“Hey,” you sighed, running a hand over your hair, knowing you looked a bit a mess. Standing from the stool, you walked the short distance to the doorway as you leant up against it with your glass in hand.

“I thought you were off today?” He grinned dimples showing on his cheeks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, I just – didn’t expect it is all.”

“I am,” you couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in your tone. “No one came in to open this morning – I got called in.”

You saw his eyebrows fall to a small furrow. “Oh fuck. How does that happen, no one opening?”

Only shrugging your shoulders, you took another sip of your water. You couldn’t help but gently shut your eyes, feeling your exhaust slowly overcome you.

“I don’t know. Can’t get a hold of the person who was supposed to open. I mean I’m assuming that they’re just still sleeping or something.”

“That’s shitty, and on your day off too.”

“It’s okay,” you shot him a small smile. “At least I don’t have to work the full shift today, just opening and I should be off soon, someone else is coming in to finish the shift. Did you want to get a coffee?”

“Uhm – if you were taking a little break its okay, I don’t need to –”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Stop that, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“Just to go for today,” he spoke, as you were tamping the espresso grounds. Nodding as you grabbed a paper to go cup, placing it under the portafilter and pressing the button to begin the slow and steady pour of espresso.

“What do you have going on today?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the passing seconds of the espresso pour.

“I’m actually headed over to Yanis’ place – a few of us are working on a collaboration piece together.”

“That’s so cool,” you smiled, sliding the to-go cup over to him as he grabbed a lid from where they were on the counter.

“What about you?” He returned your grin. “Get some sleep after this impromptu morning shift and before another week of work?”

“Oh, I’m actually going to be off for the next week or so,” you spoke absentmindedly. “My brother is coming to stay with me.”

“That’ll be good,” Harry mused from across you, having never heard you speak about your brother.

You only sighed, his words not really registering. “I guess.”

Not wanting to think too much about the week you were going to have to spend with your brother, you cleaned out the portafilter and tried to change the subject. “What are you working on with everyone?”

Harry was quiet for a second, eyes intent on you before he cleared his throat and answered. “It's all Yanis’ idea – he wanted a big collaboration but really, he’s the brains behind everything. We’re just starting today so honestly I’m not really sure what will come of it.”

“That sounds like it’s gonna be good,” you grinned.

“I hope so –” he paused, checking his phone, “sorry I have to head out. But I hope your day gets better and I’ll see you soon!”

You waved as he left, only a few more minutes into you were able to leave the café.

You physically felt your shoulders drop when you saw Aleena walk through the door. She had been scheduled to work today already, just coming in a bit earlier to give you a big helping hand.

“Thank you so much,” was the first thing you said when you saw her. “You are the absolute best. I promise I’ll buy you a drink, or dinner.”

She laughed. “No need for that, really. Should be Noah buying both of us dinner.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, nodding your head. “He really should be.”

She clocked in, and you waited a second before speaking again. “Is it okay if I head out now? I can stay and help if you need me to but –”

She cut you off. “Go, go. I know you have to go get your brother later today, and I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now.”

You could kiss her. “Really, thank you so much.”

You were rushing out of the café after grabbing your bag. You wanted to shower as soon as you got home, hopefully having the time for a little nap before you had to go over to the airport to greet your brother.

Just as you were turning the corner away from the café, a familiar outfit across the street caught your attention. You recognized Harry, nearly amused to see him still so close to the café. Your pace slowed down slightly, you were considering catching his attention or maybe just yelling his name across the street as you didn’t really have time to stop and chat once again.

Although any idea you had fell out of your head when you saw two more people with him, getting a better view of them as you walked along your side of the street. You recognized one of those people to be Yanis, and after a small squint you realized who the other person was.

You kept walking, eyes flitting over to the group across the street a few more times before you turned another corner and away from them. You knew you had no reason to be upset, or not upset, annoyed that Harry was spending time with his ex.

He had mentioned that they both still ran in the same circles, but you didn’t imagine that meant hanging out just on the daily. Or maybe not the daily, in fact you had no idea how often they spent time together. He had never mentioned her to you before, and you tried not to feel overly annoyed because you knew you had no real right to.

This just wasn’t coming out to be a very good day for you.

Trying to push everything about Harry and Rory out of your mind, you rushed the rest of the way home as you were slightly dreading the fact that in a few hours you were going to have to head over and greet your brother at the airport.

The first day with your brother was okay.

You were never that close growing up, for no particular reason. It wasn’t until you grew older that you realized you wished you had a better relationship with him, that you wished you could be like those siblings on TV.

He tormented you, in the way that older brothers usually did, but there was never a good side to your relationship with him. It got to a point where you began to realize that you nearly resented people for how close they were with their siblings.

Ever since your parent’s divorce, the two of you somehow grew closer and further apart. Closer in the sense that now it truly was the two of you against them, but further apart because your lives were in such different places.

He always knew  what he wanted to do in life, and he was currently doing well for himself. He had gotten married already, and was living in a nice apartment that was also close to both your parents, much closer than you were.

He was going to be spending three days with you, his idea. You knew it would be bad to say no, knowing deep down that you needed to maintain a relationship with him. You loved him – he was your brother but you didn’t necessarily want to spend three days with him.

You always came out of any interaction – even a phone call with him – exhausted and anxious about the state your life was in.

Since you were going to be taking some time off anyway, you decided to give yourself an extra two days off just so you can have some time for yourself and didn’t need to jump right back into work.

“How’s Sophie?” You asked your brother about his wife, as you unpacked some groceries you got after meeting him at the airport. They had gotten married nearly two years ago.

“We’re good, she’s good,” he seemed to pause, sitting in your recently deep cleaned kitchen.

“Yeah?” You probed further, noticing his sudden hesitation.

“She’s actually – she’s pregnant.”

You nearly dropped the knife you had just grabbed. “What?”

He nodded. “She’s due next March. We’re really excited.”

“Oh my God –” you muttered, still in the headspace where when you heard when you heard the word ‘pregnant’ it was usually followed by anxiety not joy, even if some of your friends from college had kids of their own as well.

“Congratulations,” you snapped out of it. “That’s – that’s great! Congratulations, I’m sure she’s really happy.”

“Yeah, she is. We both are.”

“That’s great,” you repeated, turning back around and busying yourself with starting to prepare dinner.

He was quiet for a second. “How about you, are you seeing anyone?”

You very rarely shared details of your personal life with your brother, unless specifically asked. And even then, it was all very vague.

“Uhm,” you didn’t know why you were pausing; you knew your answer. The question was simple, the answer was just as simple – but for some reason the reality seemed much more complicated.

But you really didn’t want to talk about that now, especially not with your brother. “No, not really.”

You only heard him hum from behind you, before he spoke again. “Oh. You know I was talking with mom – you know she was younger than you when she had me.”

Christ.

“I know,” you only muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset over his words.

“All I’m saying,” he could likely sense your annoyance. “Is that I know you’re having fun out here in the city and whatever, but you’re nearly thirty.”

You spun around, unable to hide your anger. “I’m not nearly thirty. I’m in my mid-twenties – and even if I was, so what? There’s no timeline I need to be following.”

“I’m just saying” he put up his hands in defense, as if you had been attacking him unprovoked.

You had to tell yourself to not continue down this path, he wouldn’t budge in what he was saying. “How’s work going?” He said instead.

Again, something else you didn’t feel too keen on discussing with him. “Fine.”

“If you wanted to get your foot into something else, I can probably help you with something at my company.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Seriously – even in the New York office I could help you out. You’d probably need to intern first –”

“I said it was fine,” you cut him off, feeling worn. “Thank you, but I’m okay with what I’m doing.”

Again, he only put his hands up as if he was doing nothing wrong. You willed yourself to not feel too angry over it, knowing that you were already mentally tired and if you kept speaking with him about this you might start crying – something he’d only use against you.

After a few much needed topic changes, dinner was ready and you were playing a show the both of you used to enjoy when you were in secondary school. You didn’t go to bed very late, making his bed on the couch before you headed off to sleep as well.

Only two more days, you told yourself. It would be fine – it was your brother and everything was going to be fine.

Settling yourself into bed, phone in hand as you tentatively typed in Harry’s username into Instagram. You found it quickly, seeing him having no new posts since the time you and Mae had looked over his page. Although, there was a little circle around his icon showing that he had a story.

Curiosity getting the best of you, knowing full well your own username would show up if he were to check who was looking at his story, you tapped on the icon.

Holding your thumb down on the single picture eyeing over the three accounts that were tagged in the story.

You paused when you read over a username that contained the name ‘Rory’.

So he had been spending the day with her.

You tapped on her username, watching the app take you to her account. It was a public page, with a pretty hefty following. You scrolled through rows of images, tapping on a few here and there to further inspect the posts. Most were about her art, some pictures of herself and her friends here and there but nothing out of the ordinary for a twenty-something woman.

Holy shit. You were about two years deep on her account, seeing pictures from a show she had in Berlin. You couldn’t help feel the slightest bit impressed.

Going over to her tagged photos, you scrolled a bit seeing mostly photos with friends and a few of what you figured were her art works.

The one that caught your eye, though, was a painting that seemed familiar to you for some reason.

Going over to the image, you realized why there was an air of familiarity to it. The picture was from Harry’s Instagram, a painting he had done of her back in early 2018.

His style had seemingly slightly evolved since then, but it was still very much him. The painting was of the side of her face, the setting around her not very defined so all the focus was on her profile. She was looking away, the side of her face painted in hues of gold and yellow that blended into her dark hair.

Green and yellow surrounded her, like she was outside during a sunset – it was a beautiful painting of her. The caption read “inspiration”.

You shrank back into bed.

The post was about two and a half years ago, it was in the past and you shouldn’t be overthinking it. But you felt small in comparison.

She had clearly been his muse, of some kind and the fact that he was still spending time with her just was sitting right with you.

You knew, a huge part of you knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this. You tried to think back to all the stomach fluttering and weak-kneed kisses he had given you, the way that every touch of his skin on yours felt so right.

You thought back to the other night, the nearly romantic conversation you had shared before he kissed any anxiety or fear out of you.

But still, a smaller but louder part of you was telling you that it didn’t mean as much as you originally thought it did.

The day seemed to be one thing after another, and just as you were about to shut off your phone and try not to cry because you knew it’d make you feel silly, your phone buzzed with a text.

Again, this day was just one thing after another. It was Grace, your boss, asking you to cover Noah’s shift tomorrow. He had taken the weekend off last minute, and his 9-3 tomorrow couldn’t be covered by anyone else.

Typing back an annoyed ‘yes’, this time you couldn’t help but feel truly upset. You were exhausted from work, honestly. You knew you would still have some time off, and Grace was so kind to you, but you were just. Tired. 

[birdiefw]

JJ MAYBANK | NOT MY CHOICE PT. 1

Part Two — Here

Requested by: @maybebanks

Summary: You’ve always been a Pogue despite your wealth and had been friends with John B. and his crew for as long as you could remember. However, you were also dating Rafe Cameron but your friend didn’t know, and worst of all, it wasn’t your decision. But one day Rafe sees you and JJ together and decides to show you and JJ who you belong to.

Warnings: swearing, anxiety, sexual assault, groping, ANGST (IF ANY OF THESE MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE PLEASE DON’T READ)

Y/ND/N = Your Next-door Neighbor

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I’ve been trying to come up with another idea for a JJ imagine and I’m so glad you sent me this! I’ve decided to make this into two parts, so I hope you don’t mind that I saved a few details of the request for the next part! I hope you enjoy, too!

[not my gif!!!]



You were three weeks into your relationship with Rafe Cameron and you hated it.

Around your parents he was kind, thoughtful, and gentle — which is why they forced you into a relationship with him against your wishes by filling Rafe’s head with the idea that you were just playing hard to get — and you were unable to tell him no. But when your parents weren’t around, he someone else completely, and it terrified you.

He was erratic, controlling, and manipulative. You knew part of it was because of the drugs he took as often as he could, but that didn’t excuse his ruthless actions. His own relationships with his family was rocky at best, and you could see it was taking a bigger toll on him than he would’ve cared to admit. You knew better than to question it and went along with whatever he wanted in order to keep him happy and feeling in control; you’d seen him lose himself once and you didn’t want that to happen again. You didn’t think he’d physically hurt you with as much as he claimed to care about you, but you were never too sure with him.

Anytime you managed to get some free time away from him and your family, you found yourself with the Pogues down in the Cut. They knew you were wealthy, but that didn’t stop them from welcoming you in once they got to know you and saw how kind and caring you were — which you thanked Kie for as she was the one you’d befriended first. You were close with the rest of John B.’s group — especially JJ which was a surprise to both of you.

You didn’t expect to be so drawn to the most reckless and destructive one of them all, but you saw how kind and gentle he could be. He didn’t think he’d find you as enticing as he did either, but he wasn’t complaining. You treated him better than most and accepted him for who he was even with all of his flaws.

He didn’t show his soft side a lot, but you’d seen it more than the others had as if fate was trying to tell you two something you were failing to see for yourself; perhaps that was why you two wound up spending the day together.

With John B. job hunting, Kiara waitressing at The Wreck, and Pope delivering groceries, you and JJ were the only ones with some free time. JJ was supposed to work later, but until then the two of you decided to go surfing wfilr the sun was still shining brightly in the sky and the waves were nearly perfect. Rafe was apparently working out with Topper and Kelc, and knowing them, you’d figured it wouldn’t be a while until they were done. They often ended up at one of their houses afterwards, so you didn’t think Rafe would want to spend anytime with you.

“You comin’ or what, Y/N?” JJ laughed, catching your attention. “We ain’t got all day!”

You suddenly blinked back to reality, gaping as the blond boy was already out in the water and his heart racing with excitement. You scoffed offensively, hurrying after him with your surfboard in tow. “What the fuck, JJ?” You whined, quickly getting on the board and paddling towards him. He loudly laughed, water splattering onto your faces as you moved closer and closer to the gushing waves. “I can’t believe you left me behind!”

“It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention,” he replied shortly.

You huffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “You’re a shithead, Maybank.”

“Yeah, but you like it.”

Rather than answering him or giving him an even bigger ego boost, you just splashed him and made your way towards the rolling waves with him right behind you. There were only a few other people lounging at the beach, the annual Fourth of July parade more interesting to the town than the waves that never left. Your parents were helping out with the Red Cross float, but you knew they wouldn’t realize you weren’t there in the crowd. JJ could’ve cared less, and as you got to your feet on your board and gliding across the water, you didn’t regret skipping out on it and going to the beach with your favorite Pogue.

———

It wasn’t until a few hours later when you and JJ conquered as many waves as you could that you two decided to call it quits and go and get some food. You’d fallen off your boards more times than you would’ve cared to admit, but you didn’t mind it. The water comforted you every time you fell into it, cooling off your warm skin that the sun was harshly beating down on. JJ came to your aid every time your body tumbled off your board, helping you back onto it with ease, and you did the same with him.

Surfing was dangerous, but it didn’t feel like it when you were with JJ.

When you were with him, you didn’t have to constantly worry about your parents, Rafe, or all of the responsibilities you were currently neglecting to do. All of your worries washed away with the sea and were pushed down to depths of the ocean where only the seaweed would feel the tension. You’d bickered on and off the entire time, trying to one up each other with each wave that came to tower over you two. There were a few times you almost fell face first when you saw JJ doing a trick you’d never seen before, but you caught yourself almost every time. Almost.

Saltwater harshly clung to your hair, the water trickling down your skin as you made your way out of the water. Your board was lazily tucked under your arm once more, a smile adorning your lips while your feet pushed into the wet sand. JJ was right beside you, his hair dripping and looking a little more dark than normal. He was heavily breathing and his shoulders were a little red — as were yours — but his smile never deterred nor did the joyful shine in his eyes that simply couldn’t be missed.

“I don’t know which one of us did worse today,” you laughed, stopping in the sand a little ways away from the water. You pushed your board down into the ground, slightly leaning against it with yours lips pulled up into a genuine grin.

JJ did the same, lightly wiping at his wet faces when a few drops trickled past his eyes. “Really? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you wiped out more than I did.”

You huffed and shoved his arm. “I did not!”

“Did too!”

You scoffed and shook your head. You were too hungry to continue with this. “You know what? I’m gonna let you have this one, but just this once.”

“Wow, how thoughtful of you, Y/N,” he chuckled.

You laughed along with him and began to walk ahead with JJ a little ways behind you. “I am very thoughtful, thank you very much.”

“Sure, whatever you—”

“Y/N?” Your entire body froze when you saw Rafe making his way towards you and JJ. He wore a yellow tank top and black shorts, a few pieces of his hair falling in his face like he hadn’t used enough gel to keep its kicked back. His features were stern, eyes narrowed and locked in JJ. Your breath hitched in your throat the closer he got to you, unsure as to how he knew where you were.

“H-Hey, Rafe,” you stammered nervously, unable for bring yourself to face JJ. You couldn’t imagine what must’ve been going through his head. Since when did you become friends with Rafe? “W-What’re you doing here?”

Rafe clenched his jaw, his gaze swiveling from JJ to you. He was only inches away from you, and JJ had his fist clenching and unclenching. “Y/ND/N said you were at the beach,” he answered, looking back to JJ. “I finished early with the boys and I thought we could catch some waves.”

“Sorry, man, you’re too late,” JJ said, smugly smirking.

“Oh, am I?” Rafe taunted darkly. You gulped, your head slowly turning to face JJ. His eyes locked with yours, brows furrowing together at the unreadable look on your features. “I think that’s up to me and Y/N, Pogue. Isn’t that right, babe?”

“Babe?” JJ repeated in disbelief, eyes widening like a deer stuck in a set of headlights. Your heart sank into the lowest pit of your stomach, seeing JJ’s face fall. He didn’t want to believe it, and you didn’t want to either. “You’re joking.”

“What’s it to you?” Rafe scoffed, coming to stand beside you. He was a little too close for comfort, most certainly pushing his boundaries more than he ever had before. But you were almost paralyzed, your brain trying to piece together a way for this to go better than how you feared it would.

“Rafe, let’s just go—”

“No, hold on,” Rafe denied. He came up partially behind you, raising his brows towards a seething JJ. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Why should I?” JJ snapped. His eyes widened when he saw Rafe lean in close, gingerly pressing his lips to your neck. One of his hands touched your hip, going around and squeezing your ass like he was marking you to show JJ you belonged to him.

Your mind screamed at you to tell him to stop, to shove him away and make a run for it, but you couldn’t. Instead you held a poker face, doing your best to keep your breathing even so you didn’t alert either boys of your discomfort. You could’ve sworn JJ was trying to kill Rafe with his darkened eyes, but you weren’t showing any signs that you didn’t like it. You harshly bit your tongue, not wanting your urge to cry to take over and anger Rafe.

That was the last thing you needed.

“You like that, don’t you, Y/N?” Rafe murmured against your skin, making sure JJ heard him.

You meekly nodded, forcing a faint smile on your lips. “Yes,” you managed to breath out.

Rafe seemed pleased with your answer and stopped. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and took your hand in his, tugging you away from JJ. “Let’s get outta here,” he said, shooting JJ a nasty glare. “Kelc is throwing a party and we can’t miss it.”

“Okay,” you squeaked out. You allowed him to pull you along and in the direction of his bike, biting your bottom lip. You stole a glance back at JJ, and for the first time, he was left completely speechless.

———

A/N: I hope y’all liked this! Feel free to send me some more requests!!

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 16

Summary:  Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff

Rated M for a reason!

"Hey, old lady! Open up!" The slayer bellowed through the tiny keyhole, beating the same spot on the large, ornate door repeatedly with his fist. "I know you're in there; I can smell you!"

"Go away, boy! I don't like visitors!" The occupant shouted from the other side, infuriating the dragon further.

He hammered his fist harder, determined to get some answers. There was no way he was turning back, not after running all this way. He'd kick the door in if he had to.

Haru, who was tucked into his arms, didn't seem to mind the small detour, or the loud clattering and yelling. He was perfectly content playing with anything he could get his hands on, namely Natsu's clothing. The occasional "Mama" or "Dada" would escape him but he mostly babbled nonsense to himself.

"At least you're having a good time. Daddy's starting to lose his patience." Natsu muttered the last bit under his breath, grinning at the child through his chagrin. He turned back to the door, "Look, I won't take up much of your time, I just need your advice. It's about Lucy…"

The door swung open with a rush and a thud, crashing into the very tree it was nailed to, causing leaves to fall from their branches. The noise had stunned Natsu into silence as he stared at the very person he'd come to see—Porlyusica. Dressed in her usual attire, she stepped out onto the porch and glowered at the young man, broom in hand, ready to chase him away.

Opening her mouth to scold him for the disruption, she caught sight of the little one he was carrying and closed it again, her hard lines softening. Instead of beating the slayer with her broom, which was the original plan, she held something out in her palm, expecting him to take it.

Eyeing it curiously, he took it from her hand and held it to his face, inspecting it further. It was a small, glass vile with a cork stopper lid, that contained a strange yellow liquid, its consistency was thick and it reminded Natsu, somewhat, of mashed up baby food—the kind Haru loved to eat.

"It's called morning sickness. Give her a few drops of that potion and it should quell its severity." She explained.

The boy accepted her potion and put it into his pocket for safe keeping, "Thanks! Lucy'll be glad of that. Only, it's not just her sickness that I'm-"

"I know why you're here. I could tell when I saw you all the other day, I'm just surprised it's taken you both this long to come knocking. So, where is she?" Porlyusica asked, looking behind Natsu for the blonde.

"At home actually. She… kinda doesn't know I'm here… but, I can't watch her suffer like that, I need to know what to do." Natsu pleaded, hoping the healer would help him.

She sighed, unable to refuse his request, "Has it been confirmed?"

"Not really… How do you do that?" Natsu asked, his knowledge on such things were limited.

"Get Lucy to test it, she'll understand. Then once it's confirmed, come back to me, I'll need to run some checks." She said, turning to go back inside.

"Checks? What checks?" There went his plan! Lucy would have to see her after all.

"You want a healthy child, don't you?" She said, as if it were obvious.

"U-Uh…"

The fire mage didn't get a chance to think too much into that before the door was slammed shut in his face, making him along with the baby jump.

The wind picked up a little as he turned to walk away, looking down at Haru, who was starting to snuggle down against his chest. Natsu smiled again at him, trying to mask his annoyance with the old woman's abruptness, "Sorry for making you wait, Haru, I bet you're super bored?"

"Dada…" The child yawned cutely on cue, making Natsu chuckle.

"Yeah, Dada's gonna take you home." He reiterated, turning to make tracks for home.

Natsu all but crashed through the front door, nearly breaking it off its hinges. "Luce? Lucy? Are ya home?" He yelled out into the house. Out of breath and panting, having just ran all the way back.

"Lucy?" He called out again, but with no answer still, he wondered where she could be, "Hmm… Let's go find Mama; she's around here somewhere."

"Mama…" The infant muttered, before going back to sucking on the ends of Natsu's scarf.

Once reaching the top of the stairs, he heard what he suspected might be the reason for Lucy's silence. A noise that'd become all too common over the last few days. Pushing the bathroom door open, he stood in the doorway, smiling sadly at the girl hunched over the toilet bowl once again. He felt nothing but empathy for her, the feeling of being overwhelmingly sick wasn't exactly foreign to him either, so he understood her pain.

The young man crouched down behind the blonde, cringing as she wretched her guts up. "It's alright, Luce. I'm here with you now." He spoke quietly, as not to alarm her of his presence. Placing Haru down next to him, he reached a hand out to her shoulder, the warm touch spreading over her clammy skin.

With one last cough and spit into the bowl, Lucy leaned back, breathing heavily while her watery eyes streamed down her face. She sniffled and blew her nose with a tissue, wiping her mouth at the same time. She took in a large breath and shifted to the man behind her, clutching hold of his jacket while she cried into his chest.

Enveloping her with his arms and cradling her head to him, he spoke tenderly to her, "Has it eased off now?"

"I-I don't know." Her voice was hoarse; her throat sore, "Please don't leave me again."

That struck a chord with Natsu. Never had he heard Lucy ask for him, not like that. She was always way too proud and independent, but this had really taken it's toll on her, not just physically but mentally also, making her feel vulnerable and it saddened him to see her so.

"I won't, Lucy, I promise." He said lowly into her ear, placing an affectionate peck just behind her lobe.

Nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck, she sniffled again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, "I don't want this, Natsu. I don't care what's causing it; I just want it gone."

Really her words shouldn't have affected him like they did, yet he still felt a sharp tug on his heart. She didn't know the reason behind her vomiting; how could she? He hadn't told her. And now with her so upset, he really didn't know how he was going to do that. Where did he even start?

He'd been so ready to just blurt it out, never considering how Lucy might react to it. In fact, if memory served him, she'd most likely freak until she combusted, or worse, began to cry. This subject had to be handled sensitively and with care, but the longer he left it, the longer he had to dwell on her reaction.

"I know, Luce. Are you sure you still want to wait for Wendy? Gramps told me she won't be back for a week at least." He explained, hoping she might change her mind about seeing the old dragon woman.

"I don't care who I see, as long as they can get rid of it." She said, finally pulling back and wiping her eyes with her sleeve, "I'm just so tired! It's been so long since I've had any real sleep and the puking just won't let up. My tummy hurts, my back aches and my ribs feel like they're being squashed, I have a constant headache and food-" She placed her hand over her mouth again, feeling that overwhelming nausea return. The mention of food, any food, was enough to set her off.

"Just try and take a deep breath, Luce, think of something else."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath through her nose and let it slowly out through her mouth, turning her attentions to Haru, "Sorry, little man, Mama didn't mean to ignore you, although you seem pretty content sucking on that scarf."

"He's been doing that all afternoon." Natsu answered for the baby, before switching back to Lucy, "Has the feeling gone now?"

"Not yet, it never really does. It just sits there until something triggers it." She explained, trying to breathe through the queasiness.

"That sucks… Oh, that reminds me, I have something for ya!" Remembering the little gift the old woman had given him, he started rummaging through his pockets, pulling out the item he was looking for and handed it to her, "Take it, Luce, it'll help with your, uh…" Wracking his brain for whatever Porlyusica had called it, "…Sickness." Was what he settled for.

Taking it into her hands she stared at it, frowning at the gross substance which could barely be called a liquid. "Um… Are you sure this is fit for human consumption?" She asked, hesitant to put it anywhere near her mouth. "And where'd it even come from?"

"Well, you know you said you didn't want to go to Porlyusica?" He blushed a little, putting his hand behind his head and grinned sheepishly, "I kinda did for ya and she gave me that. She said to take a few drops of it."

"Hmm… If you say so." She popped the cork lid open and let a few small globs dribble out into her mouth, pulling a disgusted face as it slid down her throat and stuck out her tongue. Little Haru found it hysterical and began laughing at his mother, his whole body jiggling up and down, "Well, I'm glad you're finding this funny, because that is repulsive!"

Natsu smiled, "You did look kinda funny, Luce. But at least it'll lessen your morning sickness now." That was it!

Eyes widening, Lucy snapped her head to Natsu, her amusement gone, "Morning sickness?!"

"Yeah, that's what she called it—which is dumb! It's more like all day and night sickness." He chuckled to himself, quickly falling silent when Lucy's expression didn't change at his little joke. He didn't understand; had he said something wrong? "What's up, Luce? I thought it might help."

"You… you think I'm pregnant?" She asked, eyes wide and mouth agape, her stare never leaving him.

Shit!

So morning sickness was a pregnancy thing? He wished he'd known that sooner!

Cursing himself again, he hadn't meant for her to find out like that and what's worse—she looked utterly horrified. Dammit! What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't lie to her; he wouldn't do that. With no other alternative, he did the only thing he could and sighed, nodding his answer and cringing at the sharp inhale he heard pass her lips.

Hoping she wasn't about to blow a fuse, he approached the stunned girl carefully, taking the vile out of her slack grasp and placed it back in his pocket before entwining their fingers together. Quirking one side of his lip into a half smile, he kept quiet and allowed her to process the information she obviously was not expecting.

His eyes dropped from her shocked face to her partially exposed stomach, catching her other hand instinctively come down to cradle it protectively, like an expectant mother would and it made the adrenaline course through his body.

"Pregnant… How did I not think of that?" She muttered under her breath, truly shocked that she hadn't once considered it a possibility. All the signs were there, everything pointed to it—shouted at it in fact, yet it was Natsu who'd realised it first. The boy that once thought humans laid eggs had figured it out before her? Something seemed fishy! "How come you knew? Who've you been speaking to?" Mortified to think that the whole guild knew before she even did.

"Gray, actually." He replied, shrugging, "And Porlyusica helped, obviously."

"Gray?! What does he know about having a baby? Doesn't he usually shy away from that kind of stuff?" She was astounded to find that it was the ice mage of all people. One of the girls from the guild was understandable or even someone like Gajeel who'd experienced it, but Gray?

"You think Juvia gives him a choice? She was crazy before, but now it seems she's on a whole other level." He sniggered a little, feeling kinda sorry for Gray, but kinda not. He'd made his bed and now he'd have to lay in it.

"Oh, so Juvia's pregnant too? How sweet, she's been desperate since… well, since forever!"

Natsu hummed in agreement, his attention focused more on Lucy's calm and collected demeanour, which honestly, he hadn't expected. She seemed happy by the prospect of growing their family, and that filled him with joy.

"Baby fever all 'round, it seems." Chuckling and tapping little Haru's head, the spirit wielder met the slayers eyes, smiling brightly at him with her hand still firmly placed on her lower belly, "I guess being so sick will be worth it, if it's for a baby."

"Our baby, Luce." Wiping the few stray tears away with his thumb, Natsu grinned at her, glad to see that gorgeous smile of hers split her cheeks, "Now we just gotta test it, right? Only, I don't know how you'd do that?"

"Hmm… I do, but… Oh wait! Cana!" She yelled, scrambling to her feet and nearly tripping on the bath mat. Luckily, Natsu was there for her to grab a hold of.

"What's this got to do with Cana?" He asked, confused—nothing good could ever come of her being involved.

"Her 'gifts'." The boy tilted his head; that made even less sense! "You know… ages ago, she pranked us with the condoms and a pregnancy test?" Lucy whispered to him, not wanting to say it out loud in front of Haru.

"Oh yeah! I wondered where they all went!" His eyes lit up when the memory returned to him.

"Please don't remind me…" Happy mumbled under his breath, a look of trauma on his face.

"Oh, hey Happy! I didn't hear ya come in!" Natsu greeted, waving at the exceed hovering in the doorway.

"Why're you guys looking for those things? You mean you're actually gonna use 'em?!" Nearly passing out at the thought, but shut his mouth quickly when he noticed Lucy glaring at him.

Returning to the task at hand, the blonde continued to search through the bathroom cupboards, "I put them away in here somewhere… Aha! Found it!" She cheered, holding and waving it in her hand to show Natsu.

"Awesome!" He cheered, "Now what?"

"Yeah, uh, you're gonna have to wait outside, and I'll let you know when I'm done." Pulling out the stick from its packaging, she crossed her arms and glared at the boy still standing there.

"Wait, what's happening?" The exceed asked, completely lost on their conversation.

"Why do I gotta wait outside? Can't I stay in here while you do it?" Natsu didn't want to be locked out again, it wasn't fair! He wanted to be in on the action!

She deadpanned, "Unless you want to watch me pee on a stick?" He was clueless.

"No, thank you!" Happy was gone in a flash, back down the stairs, no longer caring what they were talking about.

"So what, Luce?" The fire mage shrugged, "I've seen ya do worse."

"Just get out, Natsu, I'll call you back in when I'm done!" Lucy huffed, shooing the idiot out of the bathroom, ignoring his protests and shutting the door behind her.

Natsu exaggerated his huff, chuckling when Haru copied him, "Looks like we gotta wait out here, little guy. Are ya hungry?" The fire mage asked, taking them both down to the kitchen to retrieve some food.

Once returning to the bathroom door, food thoroughly shoved in their pie holes, they waited. When the door finally opened, revealing the girl with the stick in her hand, Natsu could barely contain himself; he wanted to know the results.

"So, what's it say? Are ya, Luce?" He asked, feeling like a kid at Christmas. Upon setting his own eyes on the girl, his face dropped instantly as he watched fresh tears build in her eyes. "Lucy?"

She wiped her snuffling nose and handed the stick to her partner, allowing him to look at the results. "Two lines means positive; one line means negative." Was all she said, using her sleeve to rub at her irritated eyes.

Peering down at the peculiar shaped object in his hand, he knitted his brows together. On the little screen, there was but a singular line—just one. He looked back up to Lucy, confusion still etched into his expression, "Negative?"

"It means, I'm not pregnant." Disappointment flowed out of her very pores; saying it out loud only reaffirmed it; a bitter truth escaping her lips. "Back to the drawing board, I guess. I'm sorry, Natsu, I know that wasn't what you wanted to hear."

Natsu remained silent, processing it all. It was definitely not the result he had been expecting, but it didn't seem to be bothering him as much as it should've. That niggle along with everything else that lead him to that conclusion, surely hadn't been wrong? He should've felt sad, a little disappointed, maybe? Or even a tad guilty for giving Lucy false hope—but he felt none of those things.

It was true that he didn't have well of medical knowledge like Porlyusica or some other doctor. He didn't read a load of books to get his information like Lucy or even Levy, and he certainly had no experience to pull from, and yet his gut still believed there was hope.

He placed the test down and pulled Lucy to him, enveloping her in his warmth to soothe her aching heart. With her nestled into his chest, he nuzzled his head into her hair, breathing in her scent, allowing it to relax him, when an idea struck.

Unexpectedly he pulled away from the sad blonde, passed her the baby and dropped to his knees, much to her embarrassment. He hugged her close, placing his nose on her lower belly and inhaled deeply, ignoring her flustered rants about 'reading the mood'. After several awkward minutes of her whining and his determination to be proven right, he smiled and let go.

"Natsu, you can't just sniff people like that! What were you doing?! I'm not in the mood for jokes." She sighed, watching him hop to his feet.

"Lucy, I think the test is lying."

Perking her head up to meet his eyes, with brows knitted together, she spoke, "Huh? Tests don't lie, Natsu! Don't be so ridiculous! I know it's hard to hear, but we're not having a baby."

"We'll see about that!" He grinned and hoisted her up, carrying her bridal style down the stairs with Haru perched neatly in her lap, ignoring her yells to be put down.

"Right Haru, let's go get some answers! You coming, Happy?" Natsu's usual electric enthusiasm shone brightly through his grin.

"Yeah! Where are we going?" Happy asked, hovering above the slayer's head.

He winked at the Exceed, then proceeded to kick the front door open and walked out into the front garden. "You ready, Luce?" His grin turning mischievous.

"Natsu, put me down! I don't even have any shoes on! Where the heck are we going?!" She screeched into his ear, making him wince, but smile all the same.

"You don't need shoes when I'm carrying you! Hold on tight guys, we're off to see the old dragon woman in the woods. She'll be able to tell us." He said, sprinting off down the path towards their destination, with Happy flying behind.

Eventually, Lucy gave up her struggle. She wasn't going to win; she never did once he'd set his mind on something. That was usually how all of their adventures started off, him dragging her off somewhere new and exciting. Although, she couldn't say going to see the old woman was new or particularly exciting, but if Natsu thought it was the right thing to do, even if the result remained the same, then she had no choice but to tag along.

Finally nearing the tree, Natsu could see from a distance that the door was open, meaning said woman was out and about, probably collecting ingredients for her next potion.

"So you've returned." They heard the gruff voice from behind, swivelling their heads to meet Porlyusica as she walked over to them. "And you've brought the whole cavalry… Well, don't just stand there gawking, in you go!" Natsu quickly made it into the tree, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the cranky woman with a broom. "And put Lucy down, a pregnant woman is more than capable of walking, boy!"

Lucy all but jumped to her feet, mortified and embarrassed by the whole situation and turned to the healer, "That's the thing though, I'm not pregnant, but Natsu insisted on dragging us out here. We're sorry for wasting your time." The flustered blonde seemed a little too eager to leave and tried to make a break for the door; however; the fire breather's quick reflexes caught her wrist before she could reach the door handle.

"Luce, I told you already: the test was lying!" He repeated, eyes pleading with her just to wait and see what the healer might say.

She sighed; feeling a little frustrated by it all, "Tests don't lie, Natsu. I'm not pregnant and that's all there is to it. I'll just have to muddle through whatever this sickness is until it goes away."

"It came out negative, I assume?" Porlyusica intervened, focusing on the blonde huddling close to the door. "Natsu is right, tests can give false negative readings, especially if it's old or hasn't been used properly." The pink haired woman walked closer to the girl, looking her up and down. "I thought that you might be when I saw you last and I'm rarely wrong."

Lucy hadn't expected the woman to actually agree with Natsu. She hadn't thought that there could be something wrong with the test, but then again, it was from Cana and god knows where she'd got it from. She perked her head up a little and was almost reluctant to look at the dragon slayers expression, knowing the smugness of being right would be written all over his face.

"Ha! See, I knew it! There's still a chance, Lucy!" Natsu shone his vibrant, toothy grin at the blonde girl. She could see the hope in his eyes; he really wanted this; to be a father again and her heart all but melted.

"I have other, more thorough ways of testing, if you'd let me?" Porlyusica asked the celestial mage, bringing her back to the present.

Apprehensively, Lucy nodded her head and went to sit on the bed by the window to await further instructions. She was so nervous, hoping for some positive answers, that would prove the test was false. She wasn't sure her heart could take the disappointment a second time, especially if it included Natsu's this time.

"There are a few different ways I can confirm a pregnancy, blood tests and so forth, but the most efficient way is a scan of the area." She said, gathering the instruments she needed whilst awaiting Lucy's approval. "I use a lacrima and it shows an image of your womb."

"O-Okay." Lucy replied, uncertain of what she'd just agreed to.

She laid back on the bed and pulled her top up, revealing her stomach. Taking a deep breath, the celestial mage twisted her head to Natsu, who had knelt down beside her. Her nerves were rattling within her body and was looking for a little reassurance, something to take the edge off of her apprehension.

He smiled at her tenderly and reached out for her hand to hold tight, not entirely convinced it was to ease just her anxiety as opposed to his own. They were about to find out whether or not their own little creation had taken residence in Lucy's womb, and he couldn't describe what an incredibly surreal feeling that was.

Porlyusica first needed to locate where the lacrima should be placed. Using one hand, she pressed firmly just above Lucy's pelvis, then several times around the area. Still tender and overly sensitive, Lucy tried her hardest not to show the discomfort it was causing. It rippled up into her throat, making her feel sick again, only this time she had no choice but to hold it back.

The wincing and quiet gasps didn't go unnoticed by the dragon slayer. He'd been watching the healer like a hawk, making sure nothing hurt Lucy too much. He leant over, understanding how unpleasant it must be and kissed her temple, whilst running his fingers smoothly through her blonde tresses.

The lacrima was a simple looking flat, green crystal that the older woman laid onto the stellar mages bare skin and waited for the image to appear. With a few flashes of light, a picture was formed like a projection hovering just above the lacrima.

"What the heck is that?! It looks like you swallowed a ball!" Happy couldn't take his eyes off of the image.

"That's so cool! I'm totally looking at your insides, Luce!" The fire breather enthused, unable to take his eyes off of the image.

Lucy rolled her eyes at the pair; typical Natsu and Happy, "You're both such idiots…"

"When you're done bickering, I'll explain what you're looking at." Porlyusica cut in. She pointed to the big black oval shape on the projection, that Happy kindly pointed out, and looked at the pair, making sure they were paying attention. "This is the outline of your uterus, Lucy. And from what I can see, it looks perfectly normal and healthy."

"Oh okay, that's good then." She pointed to a smaller, light coloured ball at the bottom of the black oval and knitted her brows together. "So, what's that?"

Moving the lacrima crystal slightly, the healer repositioned it to get a closer look at the small ball and both mages eyes near bulged out of their sockets. Their mouths dropped open and breath hitched simultaneously as the image took on a more human shape, its arms and legs moving rapidly.

"Oh my… Is that…?" Lucy had never seen anything like it, her mouth had gone completely dry and she felt the butterflies in her tummy cause her to quiver, she was in awe.

"Look at what we did, Lucy…" Natsu murmured after a few shocked, silent moments, catching the girl's attention. His eyes were glued to the image, watching it kick out with it's tiny little developing legs and feet. "It's an active little thing…"

"It's a baby, Natsu…" The celestial mages eyes glazed over, unable to control the flood of emotions that entered her system.

For the first time, the fire breather peeled his sights away from the projection and looked to his partner. His own tears peaked at the corners, feeling so overwhelmingly happy to be able to share this with her.

"Mm… it sure is, Luce." His voice sounded airy, sleepy almost, like his body had simply relaxed. His brilliant smile beamed at the blonde, making her heart skip a beat as she turned to face him fully, the sound of their little one's heart beat filling their ears.

"Look Haru, you're gonna have a little brother or sister." Lucy said as Natsu held him up to see, pointing at the even tinier one wriggling around on the projection. "It's a little one, just like you!"

Porlyusica turned the crystal once more, allowing them to see the baby from a different angle, "As you can see, Lucy, you are pregnant and by the looks of it, I'd say you have been for about ten weeks now."

"Ten weeks?! Surely that's not right; I would have noticed long before now!" Lucy was stunned to learn she was that far along already. The symptoms had only just started and she'd menstruated within that time—hadn't she?

"Not necessarily, pregnancy doesn't follow a certain set of rules. When Juvia came to see me regarding the same thing, she'd been suffering with symptoms from around the six week mark. Levy, on the other hand, had no symptoms and she was carrying twins. Some women experience symptoms just at the beginning while others, all the way through. Some later and some sooner, and some none at all."

"Oh… I didn't know. So, what happens now?" Lucy asked, feeling a little bit of disappointment when the healer deactivated the lacrima and removed it from her belly—she could've easily watched it all day.

"Yeah, when will it be born? Is it a long wait?" Natsu butted in, moving to sit next to the girl on the bed.

"And I thought Gray was clueless… A pregnancy takes nine months or approximately forty weeks, meaning Lucy has about thirty weeks left to go."

"That long? But that's ages away!" Natsu whined, turning into a child himself.

"Yeah, why can't it be born now?" Happy joined in, wanting to meet the little one already.

"Quiet, boys, before I kick you out!" She threatened, returning her attentions to the blonde, "Look after yourself, Lucy. A stressed mother is a stressed baby, but so far everything is looking as it should." The woman returned her equipment to their places and snapped her head to the little family still sitting there, "What're you both still doing here? Get out!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Natsu and Lucy jumped to their feet at lightning speed and ran out of the door, making sure they were out of sight of the old woman before slowing to a halt.

"Ugh! Now my feet are all dirty!" Lucy groaned, lifting her bare feet up one by one to inspect them, grimacing at all of the mud now coating them. "This is your fault- Mmph!"

A pair of warm, smooth lips silenced her, pressing urgently to her mouth, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. With him taking the lead, Lucy relaxed into it and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on hers, their tongues interloping, causing butterflies to re-enter her stomach.

Pulling apart, but barely, he stared at her angelic features and couldn't help but smile at the beautiful girl before him. Thanks to her, he was going to be a father again. A father not to just one, but two precious babies and he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"I love you, Lucy." He grinned, the biggest, widest grin she'd ever seen, so enormous it was almost too much for his face. But it was still heart meltingly cute and to hear him say those words again was enough to turn her into a puddle. It wasn't something he said very often, but she was fine with that. It made times like this all the more special.

"I love you too, Natsu." She could see just how happy he was, his very soul glowing like the fire he wielded. "So, are you going to tell me how you knew?"

He quirked his brow, "Knew what?"

"That the test was wrong." She said, her eyes flickering between his.

"Oh… I, uh, sorta had a feeling, I guess. And I was sure I could smell something." He shrugged, about to lean in for another kiss.

"You could… smell something?" Horrified she pulled her face back; did she smell?!

"Yeah, another scent. I've been able to smell it since I came home the other day, but didn't know what it was until now." The boy explained, bringing her head back to him.

"You can smell the baby?" Lucy's eyes widened in fascination.

"Sure. It's real faint, but if I try hard enough, it's there."

"Wow! That's incredible!" She looked down at herself again and cradled her belly, right where the lacrima had been and pictured their perfect little baby safe and sound in there. "I'm so happy, Natsu."

"Me too, Lucy." Natsu chuckled and finally managed to pull her back in for a loving and tender kiss, relaying all of his own happiness to her in one fluid motion. His hand came up to rest on top of hers, caressing the soft skin of her belly, imagining just how beautiful she was going to look in the months to come, carrying his child.

But their passion was swiftly halted when a certain little fella stopped them in their tracks, placing a hand to where their lips joined and made a cute babble sound, as if he were trying to work out what they were doing. Chuckling, they both turned to Haru, who was still looking at them curiously.

"You two are just nasty!" Happy said, placing himself down on the floor. "Not only do you eat each other, but you're now doing it in front of Haru!"

"We don't eat each other, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Lucy defended, shaking her head.

"Yeah you do and other… more explicit things!" Happy shivered at the thought, "Otherwise you wouldn't be in this situation."

"What situation is that then?" Lucy asked, defiance lacing her voice.

"He means the baby, Luce, even I understood that one!" Natsu piped in.

"Really?!" She exclaimed sarcastically, "Ugh! You guys are infuriating! With any luck, this baby will be a girl, then I won't feel so outnumbered!" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"And she'll still end up like Natsu, and you know it!"

Lucy's expression deflated, her arms sinking to her sides ans sighed "You're right…"

"Anyway, with another mouth to feed, you might wanna reconsider that job, Natsu!" The exceed mentioned, not noticing the dragon slayer shoot daggers at him.

"Oh… What job is that then?" The blonde asked, curiously. She didn't remember Natsu mentioning anything about a job.

"It's nothing really, Luce." Natsu shrugged, playing it down.

"You should have seen the reward! I've never seen that many zero's in a number!" Happy chirped, only now noticing the look his friend was giving him, telling him silently to shut up.

"Natsu, what's up? How come you never said anything?" Lucy asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not that big of a deal. Gramps gave me a request yesterday, but I turned it down, that's all." He explained, seeming a little dismissive but otherwise normal. "Why don't we get ya home? It'll be dinner time soon." Seeing the reluctance in Lucy's face to believe him, he sighed and smiled at her, not ready to have that conversation just yet.

Suddenly her feet were whipped out from under her and she and Haru found themselves in the air, with two strong arms holding them up, "Natsu!"

"What? Can't have Mama all pooped out now can we, Haru?" Natsu laughed along with the infant, grinning widely, "'Cause she's still gotta cook us dinner!" He smirked at the young woman in his arms, who's eyes snapped at to him, glaring at his handsome face.

"Hey! How come I gotta slave away in the kitchen?! I'm pregnant now, you should be making me dinner!" She retorted, huffing and turning her head to the side.

"I don't mind cooking, it's whether you mind having a kitchen or not?"

"On second thought, stay out of the kitchen, you're too much of a fire hazard. But you owe me a foot rub, after all, this is your doing!" She smirked back at him.

"Oh… I never remember you complaining, maybe I'll have to get you to jolt my memory later." He chuckled lowly back, rising to the challenge.

"That's it! You two are disgusting! I'm taking Haru and you can both find somewhere else to do your dirty stuff tonight." Happy whizzed down to snatch the giggling baby from Lucy and speedily zoomed off into the distance, leaving the other two behind.

"Hey! That's no fair! You got a head start!" Not willing to be beaten by a flying cat and a baby, Natsu hurtled himself and Lucy in the same direction, her screams of terror echoing throughout the forest.

[refriedweeb]

TO STAY HERE WITH ME, TONIGHT

A/N: refriedweeb here! have some gentle comfort fluff.

Prompt: When you signed up for a career as a pro-hero, you knew it’d be hard. So, when your fast flying boyfriend comes home defeated and seemingly broken, you do whatever it is you can to let him know you’re there for him.

word count: 1,938

Being a hero wasn’t always easy work. It wasn’t all sunshine and glamor as the media made it out to be sometimes. The commercials, the endorsement, the glorification of what you did to help reduce crime and make the world a better place wasn’t as glorious as it was always painted to be. Sometimes, the heroes lost. The people that they wanted to save weren’t always saved. Their intentions, no matter how pure or genuine, weren’t always seen through for a number of various reasons. The world wasn’t a fair place, and there was nothing that could be down about the ones that you couldn’t save. As a pro-hero yourself, this was something that you had to come to terms with time and time again. It never got easier after losing on a mission, or coming home empty-handed.

When you did, your long-term boyfriend Keigo Takami was always there to console you. To run his hand up and down your back in soothing circles, to whisper that it wasn’t your fault, that these things were often out of your control. That sometimes doing your best wasn’t enough to do anything, but that it still mattered in the end. Both of you had gone through your fair share of anguish in dealing with helping the community, and it had become something of a sore pleasure to fold yourself into his arms after it happened to you. It wasn’t like you wanted to go through the trouble of losing a civilian or failing on a mission after giving everything you had, but the reality of it was made easier when Keigo silently folded you in his arms. 

Tonight was one of those nights that Keigo had lost. You’d come from your own patrol just a few hours ago to see the news covering the accident. A train wreck gone wrong, Keigo unable to get any of his feathers whether small or big through the wreckage to get the last trapped victim. Their bleeding had been far too great and without medical care in the time between the crash and when Keigo had been fighting to get them out, passed away. It was never easy, and you’d shed a few tears of your own. You knew what you would wordlessly do for him when he got home.

 For a few hours after the news you’d watched, it was impossible to get a hold of him. He’d likely switched his phone off, not wanting to deal with any of the texts or phone calls he’d get through the agency he’d started or the commission at that. Your heart was heavy for him, thinking that he’d probably just took to the sky to ride out the guilt he was putting himself through. You were the same, in that way. You needed to isolate and take out your pain and guilt in a way that kept you away from other people before you were ready to ask for comfort. Instead of worrying, you simply left the balcony door open for him to come in through to avoid the media mob down at the entrance of your building. 

More time passed until you heard the flutter of wings pulling in, shaking off the excursion that he’d just been under. You shuffled out from your bedroom, having just switched into your pajamas for the night when you saw him. His shoulders were hanging low, weighed down by the weight of what happened that day. His head was down, the front of it hanging over his forehead to obscure his vision as he kicked his shoes off. Even his wings, usually so vibrant and proud, seemed to drop. His goggles and headphones were in his hands, which he dropped unceremoniously onto the sofa. Everything about his energy, his aura, felt a million times heavier than what it’d been when you parted ways that morning.

“Keigo...” you started, folding your arms under your chest. You always thought Keigo had been the better one at consoling, somehow knowing all the right things to say when you were feeling at your worst. You only ever wanted to do the same for him, but never thought you did a good enough job. “Hey...” you said gently. 

Hawks’ head lifted slowly, and your heart dropped. He looked dejected, broken. The light in his eyes that spoke of his curious and forward thinking nature gone. It’d been like everything about him that made him, him, had been left at the crash scene. The weight of responsibility in his eyes was one you understood, but it didn’t mean you liked seeing how devastated it made the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. “(Y/N),” he said, voice soft. His defeated voice alone made him seem years younger, too small in the lined jacket he wore while working. Hawks needed you in that moment, and you understood how he needed you to be there for him. 

The sound of your footsteps padding along your floor was the only one there was until you were standing in front of him. You could still smell the fire from the accident, the sweat that had once been running down his skin as he’d worked to save all those innocent people. The person you loved the most in that world was hurting in a way you couldn’t erase, but could only ease. You were gentle and slow in your movements, pushing down his jacket, folding it over the arm of the sofa. That too, had felt horrifically heavy in your arms. Keigo stood there, silent and unwavering as you helped get his shoes off his feet, setting them on the ground. As you stood up, he was watching you. Pleading with you to make the pain and the guilt stop existing. In that moment, as in every moment when it came to these instances, you would have traded your quirk permanently to ensure that he never went through a pain like that again. He had already suffered through so much in his life, that it was cruel the universe continued to make him.

You leaned up on your tip toes in order to wrap as much of yourself around Keigo as you pulled him into a hug. His hands settled behind your hips, his face buried into the mess of your neck and hair. You whispered his name, brushing your fingers through his golden locks of hair, soothing him as best as you could. You pressed kisses against both of his temples, his forehead. Whispered how much you loved him against the curve of his ears. “There wasn’t anything you could have done, Keigo.” you affirmed, your nails trailing down his back to the spot where his feathers connected to the rest of his skin. On better days, it was a mark of sensitivity that had him riled up. But for times like this, you ran the flat of your palm up the bone of his feathers, smoothing over them back and forth, back and forth. This was something that relaxed him, and as you continued the motion you could feel the weight of his body start to get heavier against yours as his muscles seemed to unwind from all the weight he’d been carrying since the accident.

The skin at your neck had grown wet, and you knew it was because he’d been silently crying. You didn’t make a comment on it, knowing better. Instead, you turned your face into his hair. It smelled like the acrid smoke, of rain, of the shampoo that was yours that he swore he didn’t use in the shower. This was your home, your Keigo. And you wanted nothing more than to protect him from the pain in the world you were subject to because of your desire to make the world a better place. “You are a hero, Keigo.” you reaffirmed. “You have done so many great things in this world for people who will never know it was you who saved them. You don’t ask for applause. You don’t ask for anything other than the need to have more free time.” his hands tightened around your waist.  “You are a great hero and this world would be lost without your presence in it. This world needs you,” you kissed his hair again. “I need you. And as long as I’m living, I’ll never let you forget how important you are to this world, to me.” Keigo turns his face into your neck, his nose brushing against it. “I will love you, however imperfect or perfect you are. However you come home to me, I will love you.”

He exhales, sending goosebumps over your skin. “Can we go to bed?” His voice is still quiet, almost child-like in how timid it is. You nod, and his hands slip a little lower over your backside to pick you up. Your hands stay knotted in his hair, the other still moving back and forth over one of his wings as he walks you to your shared bedroom. 

There’s silence as Keigo pulls back the duvet and top sheet before he leans over, letting you hit the mattress gently. You scoot to the center of the bed as Keigo climbs in after you, only letting himself come to rest on top of your body once you’re settled. His wings take up the majority of the bed, but the thickest part folds around you as a shield. Keigo hides under the duvet, pulling it up as high as he can while his head nuzzles against your chest, his fists clutching at the fabric of your pajamas. The night is far from over, as are the tears that you know will come intermittently from the man you’ve committed yourself to. Your hands move through his hair, humming one of the little tunes you’d heard him doing the same with before. Keigo exhales, those honey colored eyes falling shut. Eventually his grip on your pajamas loosen, moving under your shirt until he’s rubbing circles over your hip with his thumb. Throughout the night, as you knew was regular, he broke into tears a couple of times. And when those times came, you soothed him, reaffirmed all of the things you’d said earlier and more. Your shattered hero, brought to you and laid out in your hands that you were in charge of piecing back together. Frankly...you didn’t mind. Keigo had done it for you time and time again, and you would do it for him to stop the world of pain he was feeling. “I love you...” was what he said to you before exhaustion from what he’d been through physically and emotionally claimed him.

Being a hero was no easy task. You were never going to be able to save everyone. You were going to lose people you’d promised that you saved. This was an unspoken truth that not many could look in the face. It was a heartbreak that hurt each and every time it happened, a stark reminder that underneath your hero quirks and outfits, the bravery that you put on for the media and the public, that you were both just human. And you felt human emotions. Grief and guilt were just a few of those. It didn’t make the work you did any less important, and that was something that you and Keigo reminded one another of when it came to the times of suffering and pain just like that night. And you would be there for him, every step of the way, healing the pain he felt without a single complaint. Because that was what you did for the person you loved. 

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

EDINBURGH TO BOSTON -CHAPTER 20 - PERMANENCE

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 20

Permanence

Hello all, Here is chapter 20 of Edinburgh to Boston. There are several things that you need to know when you read this. It begins directly after the King’s Gambit. In fact it is the same day. We pick up after Jamie teased Claire in bed. The chapter encompasses several days. It starts on a Tuesday and ends on Sunday night before they return to work on Monday morning. There is some concern that readers could get lost because of the changing days, so I just labeled each section with the day of the week for convenience.

I want to thank scubalass as always for her work as the beta, which is not an easy task. I can be pigheaded at times.

I give you Edinburgh to Boston, Chapter 20, Permanence. For better or worse, here goes nothing.

Tuesday afternoon:

“Come here mo chridhe, ” he beamed holding open his arms to her.

Claire eyed him suspiciously, “What are you planning to do?”

“I want tae kiss ye, ” he chuckled.

“Oh no, you don't. You're not going to get me all riled up again and not finish the job. I'm no fool you know.”

“Never thought ye were. I just thought we could start at the beginning and see where it takes us,” he proposed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Sound like a plan?”

Claire launched herself into his arms, ”Aye, that sounds wonderful.”

They were entwined in each other’s arms luxuriating in the closeness. He stroked her with a practiced hand. Caressing her. Adoring her.  Whispering words of love in her ear.  They kissed and ignited an inferno. They burned bright and hot becoming blazing twin suns. He moved over her covering her body, He wanted to possess her body and soul. 

“Ye are mine, Sassenach. Now and forever. Body and soul. Whether ye will it or no’. Mine.”

“Yours,” she whimpered.

And loved her tenderly, then furiously until they were sated and sleepy.

Claire yawned contentedly, “I never knew playing chess could make you so tired.” 

Jamie chuckled, “‘Tis a verra rigorous game.” He pulled her against his chest wrapping his arms around her. They closed their eyes and  fell into a blissful sleep.

The bedroom door opened without a sound. Claire crept into the room, careful to not wake a sleeping Jamie. He was still napping after their  “chess game”. Quietly, she pulled the drapes closed muting the vibrant mid-afternoon sunlight so not to disturb his slumber.

She brought a cup of tea with her and placed it on the bedside table. After arranging pillows against the headboard to lean on, she eased herself onto the bed making herself comfortable sitting with one leg tucked under the other.  Normally, she would drink her tea in the kitchen or sitting room, but today was Saturday. This was her last full day with Jamie before returning to her flat, and she didn’t want to miss a single second with him. She shook her head admitting that thought was utter rubbish.  After all, she would be seeing him every day at the hospital. But she would be spending time with him as a professional colleague and not on the intimate level they shared this week. 

Fragrant tendrils of steam rose around her as she inhaled the familiar bouquet. Oolong.  She was pleased that Jamie liked it too. She sipped the tea savoring the taste. It was slightly sweet, fruity, with a honey aroma. What could be better than drinking your favorite tea in bed and watching your lover sleep? And she did love to watch him whether asleep or awake.

She turned to see him asleep on his back, arms crossed over his chest looking like one of the carved figures on the sarcophagi she had seen in Egypt with Lamb. His full lips were slightly parted as he breathed softly through his mouth.

Suddenly, he became restless, muttering something in Gàidhlig. A tender look crossed Claire’s face as she brushed away the curls that fell over his forehead. 

“Shhh, I’m here,” she comforted.

Jamie calmed; a smile crossed his face for the briefest of moments, then vanished.  His breathing evened and his face relaxed as he descended into a deeper slumber. Her forehead crinkled in fascination as she stroked his hair once more only to watch his smile reappear then disappear as it had before. 

“I love you, Jamie Fraser,” she whispered. “I knew from the moment you were introduced during the staff meeting that you would carry my heart in your hands.”

 The conference room had several areas that one could hide in and not be seen. Claire took her usual spot where she could work on her messages without being observed. Another useless weekly faculty meeting. The Chief droned on about creating the preeminent  Cardiothoracic Service in the entire U. K.  To this end he hired an up and coming surgeon to join the team. He would bring new energy to the stalled department. The Chief extolled the accomplishments, awards, and research activities of the new team member.

There had been many applicants for the position. Claire wondered who he had chosen. It certainly wasn’t the woman she had suggested.

“I would like to introduce you to Dr. James Fraser. Come up here dear boy.”

A giant of a man rose from his seat in the audience gracefully striding toward the podium. 

The two men shook hands exchanging general pleasantries. 

“On behalf of the department, I extend our warmest welcome and wish you much success,” droned the Chief. “I’m turning the microphone over to Dr. Fraser for a few words.”

The first thing Claire noticed was his voice. It was deep, smooth, luxurious, and warm. It flowed over her wrapping around her like a favorite blanket. She noticed a definite burr to it that vibrated with command. 

She couldn't see from her vantage point causing her to shift her position a few chairs over. 

Claire looked up and saw the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was tall with fiery red hair and the deepest blue eyes. He was engaging, serious when it called for it, and charming. The audience was enthralled. 

After he finished speaking Dr. Sandringham returned to the podium. 

“You may have heard, the hospital has decided on a trial of pairing surgeons together as a measure to improve quality care in a cost effective manner. In our department two surgeons have been chosen to pilot this new program based on my recommendations.  The two surgeons designated to lead this programme are Dr. Fraser and Dr. Beauchamp. Claire, where are you, my dear? Come and meet Dr. Fraser.”

Claire’s mouth hung open like a landed fish unable to believe what she heard. She had overheard the rumors about some trial programme partnering surgeons together. “Sandringham! Up to his old tricks,” she thought. “Well, he would not get away with this one. He thought he could stick the newbie on her, but she already was overworked. Why not have MacPherson do it? He sits all day watching the Scottish stock market while she’s busy operating, doing the consults, or running a clinic. Claire decided she wouldn’t let the Chief get away with it this time. She would tell him to bloody well find someone else to hold hands with Fraser, was it?” Closing her mouth she slowly stood.  Her hands flew to her hair, trying to smooth it into place but knew it was useless to try. 

She walked up to Fraser and immediately got lost in his blue eyes. Claire made a little gasping noise then extended her hand, “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I guess you’re stuck with me.” She blushed crimson red. Something she hadn't done since her youth. 

He took her hand in his massive ones tipping his head toward her, “James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. At your service and I assure you the pleasure is all mine.” 

At that moment, something passed between them. The attraction between them was magnetic. It pulled at them speaking of a time yet to come, of words yet unsaid, and of things yet to happen.  The force drew them as if they were pieces of lodestone being pushed together. They gazed at each other wondering if the other felt it too.

Dr. Fraser reluctantly let go of her hand, gave her a lopsided smile, “I look forward to our first case together, Dr. Beauchamp.”

Claire never did have that conservation with Sandringham. It was the best thing she never did. She smiled at the recollection of their meeting and slid down to curl into his side. Her head came to rest on his chest while her leg found its way over his.  She found contentment and peace lying next to Jamie. She felt at home. Home. Now that was a strange concept to her. She and Lamb lived life like a pair of gypsies, never having the opportunity to put down roots. She enjoyed her travels with Lamb. It was fun and fascinating like being on perpetual vacation. There was, however, something missing in her life. A place to call her own.  A place where she could leave her imprint. Like owning that blue and white vase she had seen during her travels years ago. If she only had a home to display it in. It would say, ‘Claire lives here.’ The idealization of home represented a place where she could feel safe, secure, and happy. She had hoped that she could have made that a reality with Frank, but that was not to be.

Jamie grunted then turned to his side pulling Claire into the refuge of his arms. 

Then it struck her. Safe, secure, and happy within his arms.  Home did not have to be only a physical place or structure. It could be a person too. Smiling broadly, she realized that she could wander the face of the earth with Jamie for the rest of her life and still be home. He was her home now. She basked in the warmth of his embrace, knowing she truly had found her home at last.

Looking at her suitcase in the corner, Claire thought it probably a good idea to leave a few things here since she would stay here on occasion. She mentally reviewed its contents deciding on what she should keep here. 

Her thoughts drifted toward her flat. It was “home” but the space seemed rather plain and utilitarian. Just a place for her to eat, keep her clothes, and sleep. She had little interest in decorating the place since she never had company. To be honest, she never wanted company or invited anyone over. Claire had been content living her solitary life with Ginger, but now everything has changed. Ought she spruce the place up? What about new drapes for more privacy? At least new bed linens, towels for the bathroom. Maybe a throw rug and a few pillows would be nice. She didn’t want Jamie to think she lived like some cloistered nun. 

Claire froze. Perhaps she should reciprocate and make room for him if he wanted to leave some things there. Would he even want to come over to her place? She began to bite her lip with worry. God, this was all so new and she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Mo neighan donn, yer thinking so hard I can hear ye.”

Claire startled at his voice, “I’m sorry did I wake you?” She turned to face Jamie looking directly into his sapphire eyes.

“Nah, ye dinna wake me, but are ye alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine, just lost in thought.”

“About what, my own? ‘Tis it serious?” 

“No, no, no. Just deciding on what to leave here. And reciprocating for you at my place. If you would want to stay that is,” she asked shyly.

“Is yer bed big enough? Ye ken I need a lot of room,” he smirked, giving her a lustful look.

“Was he asking if it was big enough to fit him or was he asked about something else, Claire wondered.”

“I do believe... I’m sure it’s... Fine. Yes,it’s fine. Um, what are we talking about?”

“Yer bed, Sassenach. I wanted to know if it’s big.” He pulled her into his embrace, pressing his hips against her belly.

Claire felt the length of his arousal. “I think it will be more than satisfactory.”

“I would be delighted to spend the night at yer place anytime yer willing to have me,” he smoldered at her.

“Good, very good,” she babbled into his lips.

“Aye, ‘tis good indeed.”

They snuggled together enjoying the quiet and the feel of each other. 

Jamie leaned down to place a kiss on Claire’s brow. It was creased and furrowed. He felt her tense for a moment then relax.

“Claire.”

“Hm?”

“What else is on yer mind? Ye canna hide it, something else is bothering ye. It’s written all over yer face. Ye ken ye can tell me anything.” His finger traced a line over her cheek trying to soothe her.

Claire tipped her head forward and her hair slid across her face like a veil protecting her from his scrutiny, “You know what the rule of thumb is with sexual partners? You not only slept with your partner but with everyone they previously slept with.” Her eyes shied away unable to settle on him. Swallowing the lump in her throat she continued, “As you recall I went to Lamb’s after Frank raped me,” she stopped and took a deep breath to gather her strength again.  “Lamb convinced me to go to the hospital. I told the examining doctor that I had evidence that Frank had multiple partners. So, I was tested for every conceivable STD, and by some miracle, everything turned up negative,” she exhaled. “I had them all repeated when I got back to Scotland after the divorce. Again, everything was negative. I just wanted you to know that I am clean. I should have told this sooner, Jamie. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

She searched his placid blue eyes hoping to find understanding. 

The look of him described his mood, eyebrows pulled down together and his lips narrowed forming thin lines. The very picture of anger. Not because of what she told him. But because he hoped they left the ugliness of Frank behind them. But he should have realized that after her past and current trauma more revelations would arise over time. All he could do was be there for her to support her. And he would for as long as she needed him to.

He cleared his throat, “Since we are talking of such things, ye may as well know that I have been tested too. All negative. And I havenae been with anyone else since I have been tested.”

Jamie stopped and looked at Claire. She still had a troubled look about her.

“Do ye have something else ye want to tell me?”

She gave him a sidelong look, “I brought this up because we have not practiced safe sex.” She paused waiting to see if anything registered with him.

“Aye, ‘tis so and...”

“I have an IUD Jamie. I didn’t want to have children with Frank. Things became more and more unsettled between us and I didn’t want to bring a child into that relationship. My residency, my fellowship. It all seemed too much. So we don’t have to worry about birth control either.”

Jamie went a pale, ashy color. Christ, he didn’t think. He really didn’t think. He lusted after her just like a stag during the rut. No thought of the consequences for her. No, he only thought about himself and wanting her. He felt ashamed. 

“Claire, I’m sorry. I dinna think. I just wanted ye so bad.  And me a doctor. I should have…”

Claire raised a finger to his lips to silence him. “It’s alright. And I wanted you too. I don’t know if I could have stopped myself either  Truthfully, we both share the blame. We should have spoken about this beforehand. I should have told you sooner about the IUD.” 

She quieted allowing a few moments to pass before speaking again, “There is nothing to worry about. We’re both young and healthy. Except for your penchant for getting injured,” she quipped giving him a sly look. 

“Then ‘tis a good thing I’m in love with a doctor so ye can tend my wounds,” he smirked giving her a crooked smile.

“Is that why you want me? So I can tend your wounds.”

“Nay Sassenach. I want ye because I love ye. Now enough talk, just let me hold ye,” as he pulled her closer to his chest.

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

Time is an ethereal thing. It flies swiftly as if borne on the wings of Mercury. Try to grasp it and it will slide through your fingers like grains of sand. For lovers, time is but an enemy. Always pushing the present into the past making the now just a sweet memory.

Wednesday morning broke clear and sunny, but a dark cloud hovered over Jamie. Four more days. That’s all that he had left with his Sassenach. Four days. Then Claire would return to her own flat on Sunday. Time took on a sense of urgency for Jamie Fraser. He was sorry about what happened in Boston, but it worked out, in his point of view, for the best. Leaving Boston early gave him these four days with her all to himself. And he would not waste a single second of this precious time with his Claire.

Beauchamp had always been something of a recluse, never socializing with other staff members. He knew her habits and wants intimately in the operating room, but privately not very well. He knew how she liked her coffee, which scones were her favorite, and she ate whatever she liked without gaining an ounce. She liked to sleep on the left side of the bed. There were, however, a myriad of other things he did not know about her. If he wanted to take care of her, and he did, he would need to know more about her. Uncovering the mystery of Claire Beauchamp would become his life’s mission. He decided they would spend their remaining time together doing as new lovers do, learning the ways of each other. 

Each day for their remaining time, the couple did everything together. 

The mornings were spent together making breakfast. Claire would bake a batch of scones. Jamie would scramble the eggs while the requisite parritach bubbled and burped in its pot. They teased each other, stealing glances, and small touches as they worked together. It made for a thoroughly enjoyable way to start the day. 

They spent their days talking about their lives, family, and adventures. Jamie told Claire tales of the highlands acting out parts of the story, making her laugh until her sides would ache and tears streamed down her face. Hearing that Claire had never read The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings Jamie took it upon himself to rectify this breach in her knowledge of fine literature. He would read to her, complete with the required sound effects and character voices, as she laid on the settee with her head in his lap. Claire pronounced the book as their book. They watched the telly poking fun at each other's choice of programmes. And they played chess over, and over, and over again never managing to finish a single game.

That was the way of it until Saturday morning arrived…

Jamie rose before Claire deciding they would do something a little different today. It was something he wanted to do for her and he hoped it would please her.

Claire awoke to feel quite refreshed as she stretched luxuriously. The duvet slid from her body exposing her breasts to the chilled air of the room and her nipples instantly hardened.  She chuckled to herself debating the value of leaving a nightgown and pyjamas here since she always ends up sleeping naked next to Jamie. Going to the en-suite, she quickly showered then brushed her teeth. Sneaking a peek at her hair, she sighed then wrestled it into submission.  She put on one of Jamie’s old tee-shirts (which she knew she would take home with her) and padded out into the kitchen. Jamie was not there and breakfast had not been prepared.

“Jamie?”

“In here, Sassenach.”    

Claire followed the sound of his voice finding him sitting on the settee fully dressed in jeans, jumper, and boots. His jacket, scarf, and cap were draped over a chair waiting for him.

“Are you going somewhere,” she inquired.

“We,” he emphasized, “are going somewhere. We have been in this flat since we arrived back in Edinburgh on Monday and I thought it would be nice tae take a walk. Besides that, I have some things that I need tae attend tae. I made ye yer coffee. Drink it as ye get dressed, aye?”

She grabbed her coffee and took a drink of the dark rich brew as she hurried off to get dressed all while wondering what Jamie had on his mind. She dressed quickly pulling on her skinny jeans, a jumper, and her boots. Claire did not remember packing these jeans but happy that she did. She turned to look in the mirror observing her bum and she liked what she saw. She smiled smugly and knew Jamie would like it too. She stuffed her hair up into her hat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, then grabbed her coat.

After depositing her cup in the sink, Claire found Jamie standing at the door with his coat on. She twirled for him, “Do I look alright for our day out?”

He looked at her, admiring how her jeans fit over that magnificent arse wondering if going out was truly a good idea or not.

Jamie swallowed hard, “Aye, ye look verra bonnie.” He held open the door bowing to Claire,” Come along Sassenach the day awaits us,” he urged her out the door before he changed his mind.

For a winter day in Edinburgh, it seemed rather warm. Still, the air had a deliciously crisp and refreshing feel. Jamie reached out, took hold of Claire’s hand, and knitted their fingers together.

Dr. Fraser was well known in the neighbourhood. People, shopkeepers called out to wish him good-day. Heads bent low chattering away like a clan of sparrows that the good doctor had a lady. Jamie smiled knowing full well what the gossips whispered in hushed tones. He grinned as he took his arm and wrapped it around Claire’s shoulder pulling her into his side as close as possible. Let’s give the old bletherskates something to talk about, he thought. And he bent, placing a kiss on Claire’s crown. Mine, he thought and he wanted the whole world to know it.

Claire looked up at him as she snuggled closer to his side.

They stopped in different shops along the street, picking and choosing things they liked. Jamie bought another book to also become their book. Chess had already become their game, but adding another wouldn’t hurt. Or two or three. Jamie smirked wondering how they could get creative with the new games. So the day went, they walked from shop to shop choosing things that they both liked destined to become theirs.

 “Dr. Fraser! Dr. Beauchamp!” they heard a voice call out.

They turned in the direction of the voice. Jamie on seeing the man broke out into a broad smile. 

“A charaid!” he returned the call. “Come, Claire,” he urged tugging at her hand.

A tall balding man of slim wiry build and merry blue eyes stood outside a florist shop waving excitedly at them.

Jamie and the man clasped each other’s hands engaging in a rapid handshake and back-slapping in the manner of old friends.

“Claire, ye remember Ewan MacDonald, do ye no’? We operated on his Da, Graeme, last year. ‘Twas a triple bypass if I recall correctly.”

“Why yes, I do recall. How are you Ewan and your father, how is he doing?” Claire inquired as she took hold of his hand.

“Ach, he’s braw Dr. Beauchamp, just braw, thanks tae ye and Dr. Fraser. Some days we need tae remind him that he’s 80. Always on the go. ‘Tis a sight tae behold,” he grinned. “Where are me manners? Why do ye no come into me shop for a bit and warm-up?” Ewan offered.

“Tapadh leibh,” Jamie smiled. He placed his hand on the small of Claire’s back encouraging her to go forward.

It was like being magically transported from the chill of winter to the warmth and beauty of summer. The shop was perfumed with the scent of fresh-cut flowers, flowers growing in pots, small and large potted foliage plants, dish gardens, and terrariums. An assortment of plain clay pots as well as hand-painted terra cotta planters were scattered around the workbench. In an out of the way corner of the shop exquisite vases could be found for sale.

Claire spied a young woman caring for seedlings sprouting under grow-lights. “If you gentlemen would not mind, I would like to look around,” she said happily.

“Of course, Dr. Beauchamp. Enjoy yerself,” replied Ewan. 

Jamie called to her as she turned to walk away, “Claire, I dinna ken what yer favorite flower is. Could ye tell me?”

“Well, I love all flowers. But, you will think me silly if I told you what my favorite flower is.”

“Yer no’ a silly woman, Beauchamp. Tell me.”

“It’s forget-me-nots.”

“Forget-me-nots? No’ a rose or an orchid or something like that?” Jamie looked puzzled.

“No, forget-me-nots. I planted them on my parents and Uncle Lamb’s graves. The flowers mean remembrance when people are parted or after death,” her face and voice becoming solemn. After a moment, Claire added, “But, they also represent a growing affection between two people, as well as true and undying love.” She looked into his eyes, as blue as the forget-me-nots she spoke of. “So, my favorite flower is the forget-me-not, ” Claire smiled and turned away to join the woman working with the seedlings.

Silent communication crossed between the two men. Jamie raised his eyebrows in question while Ewan vehemently shook his head no. Jamie glared at him, his lips becoming thin. He would not take no for an answer. 

 “‘Tis winter,” Ewan hissed. 

“Aye, ‘tis winter for sure,” Jamie confirmed.

“I dinna ken where I can find any!”

Both men turned their gaze toward her. Claire glowed with happiness. As she spoke, her graceful hands fluttered animatedly as she described something to the woman. 

Ewan turned to look at Jamie and saw his love for her written all over his face as he watched her.

“Ye love her!” Ewan exclaimed in a soft low voice.

“Does it show much?” 

“That it does, mo charaid, that it does,” he chuckled while shaking his head. “And the ladies of the neighbourhood thought ye to be a lifelong bachelor,” he snorted. Ewan sighed heavily, rolled his eyes toward heaven then shook his head yes. “Fer ye and Dr. Beauchamp, aye, I’ll make it happen. I ken a man, a horticulturist by the name of John Bartram, who may have what ye want.” Ewan paused, “He’ll have tae overnight them. It can be pricey, ye ken?”

Jamie nodded in agreement and clapped the man on the shoulder, “For Monday morning, aye? ‘Tis our first day back tae work and I’d like tae have a wee posy tae leave on her desk. ”

“Aye Dr. Fraser. Monday ‘tis.” 

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was a woman of science and did not believe in luck, chance, or coincidence. If such things existed, they didn’t apply to her. It was odd that only this morning she thought of the blue and white Chinese vase she wanted to buy all those years ago. How was it that by some strange twist of fate its twin is sitting on the upper shelf of a florist shop in Edinburgh? She gravitated over to where the vases were for a closer look. Could some serendipitous force have led her and Jamie to this shop today?  Perhaps today if luck did exist it would favour her after all.  Maybe this was a second chance to have it and this time it would not slip through her fingers. 

Jamie saw Claire looking at the vase covetously. He drew Ewan’s attention to the vase pointing at it with his chin. Whispering to him, “Put it in a bag for me will ye?”   

“Aye, Dr. Fraser.”

“Claire,” Jamie called to her. “‘Tis time for lunch. My wame is empty.”

“I’d like to speak to Ewan before we go, alright?”

“Ewan, that blue and white vase you have on the second shelf I’d like to buy it.”

“Oh, Dr. Beauchamp, I am sae sorry. It should not be there. Someone else purchased it. I just forgot tae take it down. In fact, the person is coming today tae pick it up,” Ewan said as he reached to take it down. “Siusan, would ye be sae kind as tae wrap this up.”

A look of pained disappointment slipped across Claire’s features at the news.

“I dinna ken ye sold this vase, Ewan.”

Ewan scowled at his shop girl. “I just did tae Dr. Fraser. ‘Tis a gift,” he whispered as he tipped his head toward Claire.

Siusan turned to look at the couple then smiled, “Ach, aye,” she whispered back. “I’ll tend tae this immediately.”

“I shall keep an eye out for another one like it, Dr. Beauchamp. If I find one, I’ll let ye know,” Ewan took her hand and gave her a gentlemanly bow pressing a kiss to her hand.

He smirked as he heard Jamie growl with annoyance.

“Ye ready, Claire?” Jamie questioned as he grabbed hold of their packages.

“Yes, quite ready. I did so enjoy visiting your lovely shop. I do hope to see you again soon. Please give my regards to your father.”

After shaking Ewan’s hand, Jamie took hold of Claire’s hand guiding her toward his favorite cafe for lunch.

After seating, Jamie ordered a soup, sandwich, and chips. Claire opted for the soup and a salad.

Claire was uncharacteristically quiet during lunch. She left her soup untouched and glumly pushed and poked at the greens on the plate. 

Jamie gently raised her chin up trying to read her face without much success. “Sassenach, can ye tell me what’s on your mind?”

Claire gave him a sad little smile. “I’m not upset, truly, it’s...well, more reminiscing about something that happened a long time ago,” she replied as her hand reached to snatch a chip from his plate.

“I’d like to hear about it,” he encouraged.

She munched on Jamie’s chips one after another as she contemplated the telling of her story.

Jamie frowned as he watched his chips disappear little by little into Claire’s waiting mouth. He signaled the server, pointed to his plate of missing chips ordering two more.

 “It happened when Lamb and I were in China for one of his excavations. I had gone to the market to buy supplies when I spotted this beautiful blue and white vase in a little store. Every day I would stop to admire it. I really wanted it, but I didn’t have a place to keep it,’ she said while snatching away another chip. “It didn’t seem practical to carry it around the world with me so I settled for admiring it in the window. One day I went back to look at it and it was gone. The shopkeeper told me someone bought it.  When I saw the one in Ewan’s shop, it looked so much like the one in China. I thought I had a second chance to buy the vase, but I guess it wasn’t meant for me to have,” she said dejectedly.

Jamie leaned over and rummaged in the bags. “Do ye mean this one?” He placed the blue and white vase on the table in front of Claire. “I meant to give this to ye after dinner, but ye look so sad now, I couldna wait.”

Claire gasped in shock as she took in the vase sitting on the table in front of her. It took several serviettes to remove the chip grease from her fingers. With a shaking hand, she reached out and stroked the vase proving to herself that it was indeed real.

Claire looked from the vase to Jamie then back to the vase. “You bought this for me?” her voice filled with emotion.

“Aye, I saw how much ye wanted it so I bought it for ye.” 

She got up and launched herself at Jamie taking his mouth in a fierce kiss. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” Two fat tears broke free and rolled down her cheek.

He cradled her face in his large warm hands and used his thumbs to gently erase each tear away.  

“Sassenach, dinna cry. ‘Tis only a vase.”

Her face sprang up abruptly. “Only a vase, only a vase! You couldn’t be more wrong, Fraser. It’s not just a vase, it’s-it’s-it’s just everything,” she stuttered.

It didn’t matter to Jamie that they were in a cafe, he pulled Claire closer to his chest, offering her the comfort of his body. His hand ran across her face as he whispered into her hair,  “Claire, why don’t ye tell me all about it then.”

For Chrissakes, Beauchamp, you’re in a public place. What do you think you’re doing making a spectacle of yourself? Claire moved to get up and return to her seat, but Jamie held her fast.

“No. Stay where you are. I dinna care who sees us and neither should ye. Now, if ye dinna mind I’d like to hear ye story.”

She nodded her head, then wrapped her arms around his neck wondering how to explain this to him. 

“I envy you, Jamie,” she began. “You had everything that I have ever wanted. Parents who loved you. Siblings who loved you, played with you, even fought with you. Friends, school mates. A regular school you went to every day. Sporting activities. Even your damn chess club,” she glared at him.  “And, of course, there was Lallybroch. Every day you went to your home, to your room where you could study, daydream, and sleep in your bed.”

“Among other things,” he mumbled.

“Beg your pardon. I didn’t hear that.”

“‘Tis nothing,” he blushed, “Please continue.”

“When I saw the vase, I thought it signified home, my home,” she emphasized. It meant I lived there. It would be a place I would go to every day. To me, that vase represented everything I had ever wanted, had hoped for. The vase meant safety, security, permanence, stability.” She searched his face to see if he understood what she meant and she saw the dawning of understanding. “Mind, I don’t regret my childhood at all. It was magical, a wonderful opportunity most children will never have. And I loved Lamb, so very much. But, sometimes I just wanted…”

“Tae be like every other bairn, aye?”

“Yes. Normal. Not always on the move.”  

“I see.” He paused, letting what she said sink in. “Do ye ken, Claire this is what I had in mind today. I wanted ye tae have things at the flat that would make ye comfortable, so ye would ken ye belonged there. No’ a guest. I wanted ye tae ken ye belonged there just as much as I do. That ‘tis your home if ye want.  Anytime ye want, whenever ye want. I was worried that ye might think this too fast or too soon tae be talking like this, but maybe no’.” He looked at her with a look of sincerity causing her to become overwhelmed by his statement. 

Claire leaned forward resting her forehead against his. “Thank you,” she whispered to him.

“For what, a leannan ? I just want ye tae be happy and I want tae be the one tae make ye happy.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her fingers.  

Her lips parted as though to say something. She changed her mind and bent forward giving him a passionate kiss. Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist pulling Claire in to deepen the kiss. 

The sound of dishes and cutlery crashing to the floor caught their attention ending the kiss. All eyes were centered on them. Customers gaped with eyes bulging, and mouths agape. The young waitress, with a serious crush on Jamie, had dropped the plates she was about to serve. Claire’s cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the kiss. 

“I think we have worn out our welcome.” 

“From the looks of things, I’d say yer right,” he agreed.

Claire stood, her chin held high as she brushed away imaginary wrinkles from her jumper. She put on her scarf and coat while Jamie did the same. He left money on the table with a rather sizable tip and gathered up their belongings. The shaken waitress came toward the table as Claire grabbed another crisp. 

“Best crisps in all of Edinburgh,” she declared. And they walked with dignity out the door.

He grabbed her hand, each looking at the other as they strode off cackling like two loons. 

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

The weather changed during the day as the sun disappeared behind a mass of gray clouds. A cold, piercing wind blew biting cheeks and noses turning them cherry red. By the time they arrived back at Jamie’s flat in late evening, they were cold and hungry.  Completing all the errands had taken a considerable amount of time. They warmed their fingers and toes in front of the fire Jamie started in the fireplace. They spread their purchases out on the floor while they discussed the proper place for each item.

“I’ll leave ye to it mo chridhe, while I heat up dinner for us,” Jamie said as he walked into the kitchen.

 Claire nodded in agreement as she set about her task. She picked up the last bag and brought it with her to the sofa. It contained the vase. Carefully, she took the vase out and unwrapped it. She turned it around admiring it. It did look like the one that got away. Claire studied the room and finally came to a decision. A credenza, that Jamie used as a bar, stood off to the side displaying glassware on the left and the right. But the center was empty as if waiting for something special to claim the space. Carefully, she placed the vase centering it between the stemware. Stepping back Claire gave it a critical look. She broke out into a broad smile pleased with her decision.

Such a simple ordinary thing, a vase. To Claire, this homey object had been the symbol of the home she longed for and it needed to be shared. Shared with the man who held her heart and had become her home.

“Now it feels like home,” she murmured.

Jamie entered the room silently walking quickly toward Claire. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her against him, placing a tender kiss to her temple.

“What are ye about, mo nighean donn? Are ye no’ taking yer vase home with ye?”

Claire turned in his arms resting her cheek against his chest listening to the strong steady thrum of his heart. She stood on tiptoe gently kissing his lips murmuring, “It is home here with you.”

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

It was Sunday already. Heaving a heavy sigh, Claire wondered how time had disappeared so quickly. She felt the spectre of loneliness try to creep back grabbing at her heart and soul with its icy fingers trying to reclaim them. This time she would not allow it. There was love in her life now. Jamie had turned her life around. He filled her life with love, laughter, and tenderness. He banished her pain and emptiness and she felt alive again. Loneliness would never have a chance to possess her again. And the once ever-present shadow vanished like the early mountain mist with the coming of the bright morning sunlight. 

Claire stood staring into Jamie’s closet. She had taken up his offer to leave a few of her things there. She left her favorite little black dress, a pair of heels, some work-appropriate skirts and blouses, and a new lab coat. Her hand ran over his clothes and began to conjure an image of him dressed in them. Inhaling deeply she smelled his garments. Masculine. Pure unadulterated Jamie untainted by anything else. There was no other way to describe it. The scent would comfort her during the nights away from him. Besides, she stole his tee-shirt. The one she would wear to bed and imagine his arms wrapped around her while she slept.

Then there was the bed. The bed they had made love in, discovered each other in. Closing her eyes, Claire remembered what they had done throughout the week. The touches, lips grazing, moans of fulfillment. Last night and this morning were different. Their love-making became more desperate. An attempt to fend off the impending separation. Never had she felt such love, joy, and sadness. It would have to last, to be enough until they could be together again.

“Are ye ready Claire?” Jamie called from the sitting room.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

He drove her home and carried her bags up to her flat.

“I can take it from here,” Claire said in a hushed voice.

They stood there for what may have been a second or an hour. Neither wanting to be the one to say goodbye.

Jamie placed his hands on her hips pulling Claire against him, his head resting on top of hers. The warmth of his body calmed her and she relaxed into him.  

“Jamie, I don’t…,” Claire sniffled.

“Hush, mo ghràdh, I’ll see ye tomorrow. Naught more than twelve hours,” he soothed.

“Do ye need me to pick up yer wee beast for ye?” he asked.

“No, the Bugs will be over with her in about an hour.”

“Then I guess I should be on my way and let ye get settled in. It will be a long day tomorrow for both of us.

“I guess so,” she mumbled as she looked up at him. 

Wordlessly, Jamie  brought his lips down to hers, kissing her tenderly.

“Sleep well, m'eudail. I love ye.”

Jamie hesitated then turned and left looking as if he had just lost his best friend.

Claire stood rooted to the spot watching him as he walked away wanting him to stay here with her.

I didn’t tell him I loved him back.  Panic ensued. She raced outside just in time to  see Jamie drive away. 

Dismayed, she trudged back into her flat. Fuck! She swore, annoyed that she didn’t tell him and that she missed him before he drove off. I’ll call him. No, I’ll text him. Better yet, I’ll do both as soon as he gets home. 

Claire took hold of her luggage and wheeled it into her bedroom.  She hoisted it up on her bed, opened the case, and started to remove her things. There was a rap at the door along with the doorbell ringing.

“Hallo?”

“Claire, ma dearie, we brought yer lass home,” answered Murdina Bug.

Claire opened the door and Ginger bolted into the room almost knocking Claire over in the process. The dog spun around in excited circles, yipping a greeting to her mama. Claire squatted down to the dog’s level stroking her soft fur.

“How’s my girl then?” she laughed. The dog rolled over demanding belly rubs which were promptly given.

Oh, here is the soup, I promised ye. I dinna think ye would have the time to make dinner.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Bug you didn’t have to do this.” The soup was still warm and had a wonderfully rich aroma making Claire’s mouth water.

“‘Twas naught. Arch and I needta be leaving ye,” she said as she thrust the container of soup in Claire’s hands. “We’re on a date,” she beamed as she looked up at her husband. “The lass has been fed and had a good walk so there is naught for ye tae do. Ye’ll bring her before ye go tae work? She’s a good helper with those rascals. Keeps them in line, ye ken?”

“Yes, you’ve told me what a great help she is to you. We’ll be there in the morning. Enjoy your evening.”

Ginger sat at attention, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. She nosed Claire’s hand looking for a scratch behind the ear. She sneezed. There was something wrong with her mama’s smell. It was different. Ginger licked her mama’s hand. That was fine, she tastes normal. A cold wet nose sniffed at Claire, her ear, hands, arms, eventually finding its way to her legs. The smell was strongest here. The dog inhaled deeply and let out a powerful sneeze. 

“My sweet girl, are you sick?” Claire began to fret. She ran her hands over the dog checking her as best as she could. Her eyes were clear, nose cold and wet, nothing dripping from it. Her breathing did not seem labored. Claire dismissed the sneezing to a dusty room.

“We must clean up. It won’t do to have you sneezing. But first things, first,” she winked at the dog.

Claire reached for her purse taking out her cell. Quickly she sent off her text to Jamie. Before she had a chance to call him, her phone rang. It was Jamie. She smiled answering his call.

Ginger was perplexed by the change in her mama. She raised her nose high in the air turning her head in different directions, sniffing. She followed her nose to the bedroom. The smell was stronger there. Whatever it was it seemed to be coming from her bed. Walking over to the bed, she stood on her hind legs so she could smell Claire’s open suitcase. It positively reeked! Ginger didn’t know what kind of animal her mama had been with while she was away, but she did not like it. Not one bit. The dog jumped up on the bed, took Claire’s clothes out the suitcase scattering them over the bed. She pawed at the clothing until she found what she was looking for. Found it, Ginger thought. The odor was strongest on a shirt and on some of her mama’s clothes. The small clothes that mama wore covering her between her legs. She used her nails to scratch at the shirt trying to tear it to pieces. When that didn’t work she chewed it. The shirt was a soggy mess lying limp like an old rag doll by the time she was done.  For good measure, she rolled over the clothing wanting to eradicate the scent. Mine, the dog thought. This is my mama and I will not share. After she removed the odor from the intruder, and thoroughly covered the garments with her fur, she left the bedroom. 

She settled in her bed knowing that she would get a scolding for what she did. Ginger didn’t care. After all, she was protecting her mama and that was her job. She knew her mama would not see it that way. 

The dog watched Claire walk into the bedroom. Wait for it, wait for it.

“GINGER! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!,” came the bellow.

Claire charged into the sitting room waving Jamie’s sodden shirt. It was covered in dog hair as well.

“What have you done young lady?  Hmm? I was going to sleep in this tonight. And all my other clothes need a good washing too,” Claire frowned holding up her fur covered panties.

The dog looked up at her with large soft chocolate brown eyes full of remorse. She covered her face with her paws as an act of contrition. 

“Oh, all right. You did that because I was gone so long and you missed me,” Claire sighed. She patted the dog on the head in forgiveness. “Just don’t ever do that again. OK?”

She woofed happily, madly wagging her tail.

Two hours later saw the laundry completed. Claire sniffed Jamie’s shirt. The scent may not be as strong as before, but it definitely lingered. It seemed as if his smell permanently embedded itself in the fibers. Deciding to make it an early night Claire completed her nightly ritual, pulling on the tee-shirt marveling at its softness. As it skimmed over her body, it reminded her of Jamie’s loving caresses. 

Jamie. She missed him already. Badly. Only eight more hours before I see him again, she consoled herself. 

After plumping the pillows and pulling back the duvet, Claire snuggled in the bed. The room was dark with only the faintest light from the moon cast shadows along the floor.

Claire tossed and turned. Turning with such regularity the sheets twisted until it resembled a coiled snake. A car drove past. A siren's wail.The creaks and groans of the flat settling. All the noises of the night creating an unwanted symphony determined to keep her awake. At one  point, Claire looked at the opposite side of the bed and imagined Jamie lying next to her. It was so real her hand reached out to touch him. But he was nothing more than illusion.  It was no use. Sleep continued to elude her. The reason she knew was she missed Jamie.

Her phone began to vibrate. Claire wondered who would be calling at that late hour. Jamie’s name blazed across her phone. 

“Hi.”

“I dinna wake ye, did I?” 

“No. I was staring at the ceiling if you must know.”

“Aye, me too.” Jamie hesitated for a moment, “I canna sleep. I...I miss ye. The bed is empty without ye in it.” 

Claire exhaled softly. “I miss you too. The bed seems too big, too lonely without you in it. What are we going to do?”

“Maybe, ye can, if ye dinna have plans, maybe ye can spend the weekend with me?”

She chuckled softly, “No. I don’t have any plans. It’s a date. I’ll make the arrangements for Ginger.”

“That’s great, Sassenach.” He hesitated not wanting to end the call, but knew he should, “Claire, ye need yer sleep. Ye have a big day ahead of ye. Try and get some sleep. I’ll see ye in the morning.”

“You’re right. Get some sleep too. You’ll need to be on your toes with the students trailing you about.”

“Aye, yer right,” he laughed. “They always have a lot of questions.”

“Jamie?”

“Aye?”

“I love you.”

“As I do ye. Good night Claire.” Jamie turned on his side, grasped Claire’s pillow,wrapping his arms around it pretending he was holding Claire. He buried his face inhaling her fragrance and promptly fell asleep.

Sighing, Claire turned on her side and buried her nose inside Jamie’s shirt, breathing in the subtle scent of him. Comforted, she fell asleep too.

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

STD - Sexually transmitted diseases

bletherskates  - gossips, nosy-bodies.

Tapadh leibh, - Thank you. I used the formal expression because Ewan is older than Jamie.

a charaid - Friend

Siusan - no this is not misspelled. It is the Scottish spelling for Susan according to my references and it means lily.

a leannan; m'eudail.  - darling

mo chridhe  - my heart.

If there is any questions, suggestions, comments or gentle criticisms, please don’t hesitate to leave it. I love hearing from you. I hope you enjoyed this.

[punkpoemprose]

December 14th- A Convenient Arrangement Part 6

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 6083 Words A/N: Dear reader, there is only one bed. And a lot of feelings before there is only one bed. More feelings about there being only one bed in the following chapter which will probably come soon?

Thanks for hanging in here with me. Everyone who reblogs, messages, leaves comments or tags gets a star sticker and a hug because the feedback keeps me writing and I love it!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Kristoff watched cautiously as Anna sat on a small stone near Pabbie’s home and listened to the old troll tell her the same information that had been shared with him earlier in the day. It had been confusing to him at first, particularly because he scarcely remembered anything about his early years with the trolls and the time of his life he spent without them. Anna had been even younger than he had been when their paths had first crossed, and she was having difficulty remembering it to the point that Kristoff wondered whether it had really happened at all.

The trolls didn’t lie, but they had also been alive for several human lifespans, and sometimes they forgot details or transposed dates, and it certainly wasn’t something that Kristoff could ever hold against them. They knew more about the history of the land than he could ever imagine learning, not to mention all the information they knew about magic and nature that he was certain no human could ever hope to understand with such mastery.

What if I just dragged her here to be confused and scared instead of comforted and informed?

He almost wanted to take her to the side and apologize when Pabbie looked at her with a serious gaze, like he wasn’t quite sure what had gone wrong. He wanted to tell her that he had only meant to comfort her the way he’d been comforted earlier in the day, and that he wanted her to feel safe with him and his family. He wanted to ask what she needed and give it to her.

I want to take care of her.

He realized in that moment that there was something he could do to that end, signaling for one of his uncles to come to his side.

“Can you bring a message to the city for me?” he asked as Anna continued, not too far off, to talk in quiet but confused tones with Pabbie.

“Of course. I just hope the Queen will remember us better than her sister.”

He sighed. He wanted to chide the troll for the tone of confusion. He wanted to tell him to cut Anna some slack for not remembering, because he wasn’t even sure it had been her at all. At least he knew that the Queen must know of the treaties between the crown and the trolls, or that at least one magic wielder might understand another.

The trolls usually tried not to leave their valley, particularly because they didn’t need to do so, but they were capable of it. He’d noticed them sometimes out of the corner of his eye, hiding in parts of the city at night when they were curious enough to explore. He knew that some of the people knew of them well enough to leave them alone, while others knew enough of them to be frightened by them, which was of course little to nothing as anyone who knew more than what to call them knew they were harmless.

“Please just tell the Queen that… well you’re my family and that her sister is safe and well. Tell her we got caught up talking and that we’ll be staying the night in the mountains and returning in the morning.”

The troll smiled, “Oh, staying the night is she? Do you want me to send some of your aunts and sisters over to make up that little cabin of yours?”

The wink the troll gave him was exaggerated, and Kristoff couldn’t help but feel grateful that Anna was too busy speaking with Pabbie to notice. He wasn’t meaning to be crass, but Kristoff couldn’t help but give him an annoyed look as she shook his head and sighed.

“No. Just let the Queen know please. I’d rather not be beheaded first thing in the morning when the palace guards get sent out in search of the Princess and think I’ve kidnapped her.”

The troll laughed, and Kristoff couldn’t tell if he understood that he was being serious or not. He hadn’t really thought much about Anna leaving the castle with him that morning. He’d always come and gone places as he liked in his life. It had never struck him to think for a moment about how his wife wasn’t allowed to do the same until they’d left the castle gates and she’d been so rapt with attention and focused on every detail of the town and the wood beyond the castle gates.

He’d shown her the places she’d never known existed before. There were natural hot springs, overlooks, waterfalls, and groves of apple trees she’d never seen. He’d stopped and slowed to let her see them as they rode along, and while they’d made good time on their trip into the mountains, he’d never wanted to avoid a stop that might interest her.

Is that what love feels like?

He shook off the thought and watched as the troll, still laughing at him and shaking his head, set off toward the edge of the clearing. Once there he started to quickly roll down the path that Kristoff knew was the quickest way to get to the capitol city from the mountains. He took comfort in the fact that as quick as the trolls could move the trip was not likely to take long, and that soon enough Anna’s sister would know that she was safe.

Hopefully she’ll take the word of a troll.

He turned his attention back to Anna and his grandfather. It seemed, as he walked back to their space, that there had not been any major breakthroughs on getting her to remember the moment that their paths crossed as children. It was odd to him that she wouldn’t remember anything that had happened to her. Though, when he thought about it a bit harder, he felt like he could remember the little red haired girl, the one that Pabbie thought was Anna, being asleep through the whole interaction.

“Pabbie?” he interrupted, wondering if perhaps the revelation might prove useful, or at least allow Anna some respite.

He could see that she was tired. It had been a long day, and having the same information thrown at him earlier in the day with a better memory of the events had been exhausting enough. He could tell she was frustrated and trying her best not to show it. It was written all over her posture, the way her fists were balled up on her knees, and the way her head was hung a little low so that she wasn’t quite making eye contact.

The old troll looked at him, but Kristoff’s focus was much more on Anna when she looked up at him. He saw that there was a shine to her eye, that she was frustrated to the point of tears.

You shouldn’t have brought her here.

He stepped closer and kneeled down at her side, offering her his hand. He felt relieved when she took it, and then warm when she used it to beckon him closer, leaning on him a bit when he complied to the physical request. They’d broken more unspoken cautionary boundaries today than they had on the wedding night.

Even their wedding kiss didn’t feel as intimate as her seeking his touch and support felt. He could almost fool himself into believing that what she felt for him was growing from partner in a bad situation to friend, to maybe something more like an actual spouse. He wanted to be that for her.

“I was just thinking… the girl… Anna, if it was her. She was asleep the whole time. How could she remember if her eyes weren’t open.”

The old troll looked thoughtful for a moment, and then Kristoff watched as he started piecing together the memories of the night that had been the subject of Kristoff’s thoughts for the entire evening. It was the day that the trolls had adopted him as their own, the day he’d followed a trail of ice to their valley and watched what he’d been told was the royal family meet with his grandfather.

He supposed that it had to have been them, unless of course ice powers and looking like the royal family were much more common traits than he had been lead to believe. It was what he rationalized bringing her to the trolls with. Somehow their whole situation felt a little bit better if the trolls were right and the early events of her life were tied to his.

Fate might be real, or it might be a load of crap, but either way it’s something to believe in and that feels good.

“You might be onto something Kristoff,” the old troll said, and then after another moment of silence he added, “Of course… Anna, do you remember your sister having powers when you were young?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment as Kristoff turned his head to look at her where she was leaned against his side. Her brow scrunched and she squeezed his fingers where they were interlaced with hers. She looked off into the distance, and he watched her space out as she thought about her younger years.

He was worried that they’d hit another roadblock when she shook her head.

“No, I was surprised as anyone when she froze the fountain… I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything but just the two of us playing.”

“I did a good job then,” the old troll said with a smile.

He made a broad gesture then with his hands, sweeping them through the air like something hung in it that only he could see. He swirled his hands in it, gathering something that Kristoff realized was becoming visible, glowing and glittering along his fingertips.

With an abrupt shift, that made them both jump, the old troll leaned forward and settled his hand on Anna’s forehead, the light settling into her skin as he eyes fluttered shut.

***

She was small and she was building a snowman. His name was olaf, and he was very cold, but he loved warm hugs. She hugged him, her little arms unable to span his snow body, but the love she felt for him was bigger than she was. Elsa giggled from behind the snowman, carefree, in a way she hadn’t seen her in years.

Then Elsa was with her again, this time making a sled of ice for them to slip down an icy hill on. Anna hadn’t recalled it not being a wooden sled before, but it made sense. No wooden sled wooshed the way they did on the ice. No wooden sled felt so cool under her.

She saw them again, Elsa making little snow dolls for her to play with, even though it was bedtime. Anna made them smooch because she always liked it when her toys were in a story about true love and marriage. It made her sad, for a moment, to remember that.

Then, she felt a knot grow in her stomach as she recalled a night long since forgotten. Elsa was building her little snow hills, and she was jumping quickly from one to another. She was jumping higher and higher and higher, but then there wasn’t another column below her, and she started to fall. She saw Elsa try to help, saw the flash of her sister’s ice come towards her, and then everything after was dark and cold.

She tried to push through it, to remember more, but not more memories would come, because they had never been formed.

I was asleep.

She felt a warmth at her side, and she let herself take a deep breath before opening her eyes. The old troll had been right of course. The night she couldn’t remember had likely been the very same night Kristoff came to the valley, following the ice from her wound and from Elsa’s anxious inability to control her powers.

When she opened her eyes Kristoff was staring down at her. She’d been pulled into his lap, and she thought, for a moment, about closing her eyes and staying there for a moment.

Her head hurt. There was a sort of congested soreness behind her eyes that radiated out to her temples as more memories, little ones about snowball fights and flurries and ice skating filtered back into her thoughts. Kristoff put his hand against her forehead, as if he were checking her temperature, and Anna noticed some of the pain fall away.

It was no magic that helped her feel better of course, just the warmth of his hand and the gentleness of the gesture that made her feel like all of this truly had been fate.

She looked up at him, and then above him, to the clear and cloudless night that had come on as she talked to Pabbie. She wondered if she looked hard enough, whether she could see herself and Kristoff written in the stars like any of the other constellations.

She’d had a tutor once who’d told her that constellations were just stars, a million miles away, that weren’t rigid structures so much that they were interpolated shapes, lines that humans drew in the ocean of stars above to tell themselves a story. She stared up at them, past Kristoff’s concerned features, and picked a handful that she thought looked a bit like interlocking circles, give or take a few stars.

That’s us.

Two circles crossing over each other, linked by fate. And by a wedding. And maybe by more.

The stars twinkled as she gazed upon them, and she thought that maybe they too were a sign. She hoped that they were telling her that everything would be alright.

Kristoff’s thumb moved a bit of hair away from her eyes, swiping it away easily as he held her in his lap, against him, against his arm. The almost brain freeze-like pain faded away the longer his hand rested against her forehead, and she let her eyes drift back closed.

***

Kristoff had been worried that she had been injured. He trusted Pabbie of course, but when she’d slumped a bit at his side and had stayed weak and slumped for a while after her memories had been returned, he had been afraid that something had gone wrong.

She’d come out of the shock of it a few short minutes later though, and he’d held her in his lap for a long while before she’d sat up on her own. They’d talked to Pabbie a bit more after, about how Kristoff had only found his family because of her family’s accident. It felt strange to think that they’d met before, her and the trolls, and that Kristoff had seen her that night.

She hadn’t remembered it because she’d been asleep, and she hadn’t remembered anything before that because the memories had been taken from her. That hurt to think about, that there were all these wonderful memories of her sister being her authentic self that were gone to her for so long.

The old troll had explained the need to remove the memories, the fact that with her being so young, Elsa’s magic might have done worse than just changed her hair if the memory of it had been left there. She knew that of course, having been struck again with her sister’s cold fairly recently and almost dying because of it. It had only been her own urge to protect Elsa that had saved her life.

She looked over to Kristoff, as they broke into the clearing where his small home sat. He had a thoughtful look on his face that she could scarcely read in the dim light provided by the moon and stars above them. He’d wrapped his arm around her for the walk back, steadying her on the path as they walked through shadows and she thought that maybe he was also trying to warm her.

The summer night was not particularly cold per say, but still she shivered.

She wondered what he would do when she told him about being struck with her sister’s ice for a second time. She wasn’t sure if he would understand, and she didn’t want his pity. She didn’t think she needed to warn him about it either. It was just something she thought he might like to know.

I just want someone to know.

Plenty of people knew, really. The royal council, Elsa, some of the staff, but no one had talked with her about it. No one asked how it had felt, how she’d felt her life ending and knew that she was powerless to stop anything but the end for her sister as well. It had been a miracle that they’d both survived, but there had been no time to breathe after.

“I sent someone to tell your sister you’d be staying,” he said quietly, “Hopefully she wasn’t too worried about how long we’ve been gone.”

Anna flushed. She’d forgotten about making sure Elsa knew they were alright. She still wasn’t sure if her sister had even gotten the note that she’d left for her.

In hindsight she could have probably handled the whole situation better, but she had just wanted to leave the castle, to be alone with her new husband for a while. Elsa, she knew, was still uncomfortable and fearful about the whole situation. Anna was as well, but she’d spent at least a little time with Kristoff and knew that he was the sort of person who would close off around others. If she really wanted to get to know him, it wasn’t something that could be done with the trailing guards Elsa would have insisted on.

She could already imagine the speech she was going to get from her sister when she arrived home. The air around her felt colder even thinking about it.

“Anna?”

He’d said something while she was thinking, but she hadn’t heard him. She still couldn’t completely see his face due to the dimness of the light around them, but she thought that maybe he was smiling. He probably realized she had spaced out, and she appreciated that he didn’t seem to get annoyed or upset with her when she did so.

If he did it would be a long and frustrating marriage.

She hoped that it would, of course, be a long one.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking about something.”

He nodded and extended a hand to her, offering her assistance to enter the cabin. She took the offered hand, but didn’t move, awaiting a repeat of what he’d just said.

“It’s alright, I was just letting you know there’s a tinderbox and a lantern inside. I already brought in the food you packed earlier. I suppose it’s a good thing we brought along extra. I had food here, but you probably wouldn’t have cared for it.”

Her heart started to pound. He made it sound like he was leaving her alone, and that was the last thing she wanted. Their walk back from the valley where the trolls resided had been a quiet one, and she felt like there was so much to say.

I don’t like to be alone.

She couldn’t say that though.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

He shrugged, “I thought I’d stay the night in the stable. You’d be more comfortable without me I’m sure.”

“I would not. You will not,” she said, the response instant and a bit rude, but she couldn’t help it.

She’d spoken the words like a command, but really she didn’t want to put him out. She would never expect him to be put into an uncomfortable position for her, especially not at his own home. More than that, she wanted him to stay with her. They’d been together all day and he hadn’t stepped even a toe out of the line they’d made together on their wedding night. He’d kept her safe, and he’d introduced her to his family. It was more than she’d ever dreamed their trip would be, and he’d, in a roundabout way, given her back her memories. She couldn’t possibly ever thank him enough for that. The least she could do was ensure he spent the night in his own bed.

“Please,” she said, this time a bit more controlled, “Stay.”

His jaw clenched, and she could feel the tension in him, even with the darkness between them she knew he was uncomfortable. She’d put him into a situation where he needed to make a choice, and while she took comfort in the fact that this time she had, in fact, afforded him the option of choice, she still felt a bit bad about acting as if she had any right to demand anything of him.

Her free hand raised up slowly, and before she could talk herself out of it, she cupped his cheek in her palm. The light stubble there scratched at her palm, and she wondered, for a moment, how it might feel to press a kiss there.

She flushed at the thought, grateful for the cover of darkness.

She felt his head tip, ever so slightly, into the touch. Her fingers tingled at the encouragement of the contact, and she let her thumb run across the top of his cheekbone, watching as he closed his eyes.

He sighed. It was a soft and quiet thing. She thought maybe even a relenting sound.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll stay here with you tonight.”

***

He wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to her demand that he stay the night with her. Really it wasn’t a demand per say. It had seemed like one at first, but then she’d pleaded, and touched him so gently, and he couldn’t say no. It had been hard to see her expression in the dark, but he had been able to feel the need heavy in the air between them.

He never really knew what was proper. She was his wife, but she was in many ways, still a stranger. Spending the night in the same space as her didn’t feel right to his conscious.

You did stay the night with her on your wedding night.

He tried to tell himself that it was different, because they’d fallen asleep together by accident, and this was an act with intention. He tried to sooth his concerns with the promise that he’d sleep on the floor and leave the bed to her, but he already had the feeling that she wouldn’t stand for it.

His bed was so small though. He wasn’t sure that they would both fit in it without being so tight together that she would surely be uncomfortable.

She wasn’t uncomfortable touching your cheek. She wasn’t uncomfortable in your lap.

He closed the door of the stable behind him, thinking of it as the point of no return as he walked back towards his home. The light from the lantern in his hand flickered gently in a light breeze that buffeted the dark grass below his feet. In the window of the cabin he saw the outline of Anna, his wife, watching him return.

A nearly identical lamp sat in the windowsill before her, and he watched as it danced in return. Her hair looked even redder than normal, lit only by firelight.

He’d never thought about the type of woman he’d marry, but now that he was wedded to Anna, he couldn’t help but be charmed by her. She had bright eyes and a soft smile. Her personality was pure sunshine, dulled only by moments of deep melancholy that he was unsure if he could yet ask her about. He wanted to know her better, in a variety of ways. But seeing her now, waiting for him in just her underclothes, red hair like flames loose around her shoulders, he thought that he might want to know her in one very specific way.

He hoped that she couldn’t see his flush as he tried to think about anything but how easy it would be to slip her chemise from her shoulders. She’d already rid herself of her corset.

You’ve barely known her three days.

He huffed a sigh and tried to regain control of his thoughts.

She’s three years younger than you. She’s young and beautiful and stuck with you. Don’t think of impossible things.

Instead he forced himself to walk towards the front door with no intentions beyond maybe some conversation if she’d like, and sleeping.

And maybe hugging her goodnight.

He thought that maybe she’d like that.

***

Anna’s heart raced as he returned indoors and quietly and quickly removed his boots, his vest, his socks, and then nothing else. He grabbed a spare quilt from the end of his bed, passing her as he went, but saying nothing as he set it on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

He looked at her, and she noticed that he was flushed. She wasn’t certain of why, but she assumed that it was because she’d caught him in the act of something she wouldn’t approve of. She wouldn’t disapprove of much at the moment, save for him trying to sleep in the stables again, or perhaps on the floor.

“Getting ready for bed.”

The answer was a quiet one, simple. He gave her no more information than she asked for. It made her want to stomp over to him and drag him across the room, to the bed and keep him there all night.

“On the floor?”

He shrugged and she frowned. She could feel a wall building between them, one that hadn’t been there before dinner or before he’d gone out to take care of Sven for the night. It was frustrating, the feeling that they’d finally come to some kind of middle ground, where they were opening up to each other and then to watch it slip out of reach again.

“The bed’s not big enough for the both of us.”

“I think you might be surprised,” she said, glancing between him and the bed, “You’ll find I can take up very little space if the situation requires.”

I spent my whole childhood virtually invisible. You’ll see how small I can be.

“You won’t be comfortable with me there… I’m just trying to do the right thing Anna.”

“Don’t I get a say in what the right thing is?”

She felt something in her stomach tangle into knots. It had been a long day, and now she was fighting with him over something that shouldn’t matter at all. It was just that she wasn’t ready to be alone yet, even if it was just a few feet away. She wanted him closer.

I just want to pretend, just for tonight, that this is a real marriage.

I just want to be wanted.

Hot tears stung at her eyes, not for the first time that day. She did her best to hold them back, but she was feeling conflicted and frustrated and embarrassed. They were strangers, and she wanted him in bed with her. She knew that she should feel worse about it, that she should stop arguing and just go to sleep because he was being a good man to her and she couldn’t demand that he change his views on their union, but she couldn’t tell herself that her feelings weren’t real and she couldn’t pretend anymore that she wasn’t feeling something for him, even three days into their marriage of convenience.

He stared at her, and she thought that she saw a flare of frustration in his eyes. She couldn’t call it anger though. He was still a stranger, but he was her husband and as much as she knew of him, she already understood that he wasn’t going to be angry with her. Not over being upset after a long day, so for the first time in a long time she decided just to let loose.

“Do you know when the last time anyone asked me what I thought was right for me? The last time that anyone asked me to make any decisions about my life that mattered? Because the answer is never. I can see that clearly now that I have all my early memories back, which, you know, my parents consented to having removed and never replaced until now when, thankfully, I ended up married to the one man in the world that had a connection that let me get them back. No one has ever let me decide what was right for me a day in my life Kristoff and fighting back against that nearly got me and my sister killed. It’s the reason why we’re married, because I tried to make a choice, screwed up my one and only shot at it, and people I barely know convinced my sister they knew what was best for me. You don’t have to change your decisions because I want to be free to make mine, but I would appreciate it if I could be included in the conversation over whether something involving me is right or wrong.”

She was shouting, but her throat felt tight. She knew that the heat on her cheeks was from tears, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

You sound like a petulant child.

It was true. She did, but she refused to feel bad about it. She’d been unable to throw a good fit since she was very small, and somehow despite probably alienating her husband in the process, it felt good to just let some of the frustration and rage escape. Of course she still knew that her memories being taken from her was a necessity, but it was just another broken straw in the wake of how her parents had raised her, how her family had paved the road to her current hell with nothing but good intentions and no willingness to see past the end of their noses to ask her what she needed.

“I’m…”

She couldn’t say she was sorry.

I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m lonely and confused and I need someone.

She heard him approaching her, but she couldn’t look up to meet his eye. She still wasn’t sorry, but she was embarrassed.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest, warm and solid.

She wrapped her arms around him in return, bringing herself into his space as much as possible until she was crying into his shirt and melting into his frame while his hands ran up and down her back. There was a nervousness and uncertainty to the slow and stuttering way he touched her, as if he was afraid of letting his hands move too quickly, or too low.

It was comforting nevertheless, and she let herself breathe through it. When one hand found her hair, she squeezed him a bit tighter, encouraging the touch. No one had ever just touched her hair before. Or at least not since she was very young.

When he carded his fingers through it gently, fingertips smoothing over the ripples her braids had left, she focused on the feeling of the strands being lifted and shifted. It was easier to breathe when she made him her focus. Every time she’d broken down over the last three days, he’d been there to help her through it. While there were people in her life that loved her dearly, she’d never had anyone care so much about how she was feeling minute by minute.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently when her hiccupping breaths had evened out, “You’re right. I should have asked you what you wanted, or at least told you why I didn’t want to share the bed with you. I’m not used to my decisions affecting other people.”

She let herself lean away from his now dampened shirt front, but his arms didn’t lift from her, his hand shifting from her hair back down to the center of her back where the other hand already rested. She didn’t let him go either but loosened her grip slightly so that they could create enough space between them for her to see his face.

He looked worried, but the frustration in his features was gone, replaced again by a softness she was beginning to regard as a look he reserved for her. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but imagining that he was warming up to her, that their closeness today meant as much to him as it meant to her. Imagining it brought her some comfort.

“I didn’t mean to unload on you,” she said, sniffling a bit as she regained control over her breathing fully and worked to dislodge the feeling of tightness in her throat.

“I think that’s part of what being married is,” he replied, “Listening to the other person when they need to get something off their chest.”

As much as she’d thought about weddings and being married as a kid, she’d never really thought much about what it meant to be married. She liked the idea that he would listen to her when she needed to vent, and she thought that maybe she could do that for him too.

“Do you have anything you need to say to me… I think I’m a good listener.”

As long as I’m not distracted.

He pulled her back into the hug a little tighter and she squeezed him in return.

“Sure, but it’s not urgent.” He replied, his voice low and warm. Calming.

“I think you might have some more to say first? I’m not going to pry, but I didn’t know what was going to happen with my family, and I think that if what just happened to you happened to me, I’d need to talk about it. You don’t have to. I just thought you might want to.”

She nodded. She had five years’ worth of memories to unpack, to disentangle from lies she’d believed for thirteen years. Having someone to listen sounded nice.

“But maybe bed first?” he asked, sounding uncertain.

***

He’d done his best to explain to her why he’d tried to take up residence on the floor without her, leaving her in the bed. He hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable in either the physical or mental sense. He hadn’t wanted to assume that being married promised him a spot at her side, even if it was in his bed. He hadn’t wanted her to sleep on the floor either.

Now though he was starting to realize that Anna’s idea of what was right for their relationship was certainly feeling right to him.

He was shirtless, her tears had soaked his shirt and it had been her insistence that he’d removed it. At the time he’d thought that he’d seen her eyes linger on his bare torso, and while it was probably just his overactive imagination, he thought that she’d appeared to be enjoying what she was seeing.

I want my wife to be attracted to me. I think I do at least. I know I’m attracted to her.

She was sleeping, her head rested on his bare chest like a pillow, curled up at his side in a way that he was certain would cause a crick in her neck in the morning. He didn’t want to move an inch, his arm was draped over her, a thin quilt and her chemise all that separated them.

She’d told him so much about her life, what it was like to grow up in the castle. Even with her memories returned to her, which she’d described as uncomfortable but not the worst thing she’d ever been through, she couldn’t recall much of what life had been like before the gates had been closed. It made sense to him, as he couldn’t remember much about his life before the trolls took him in, and he’d been eight at the time.

She’d exhausted herself describing the details of what it was like to grow up the way she had, and he hadn’t argued when she’d pulled him to bed with her. He understood that she didn’t want to be alone, and he couldn’t deny how good it felt to hold her in his arms.

He already liked her, and as she nuzzled into his chest and let out a little snore, he realized, with a barely contained chuckle, that he was looking forward to loving her.

He closed his eyes and tried his best to fall asleep as she had, holding her tight to his side.

[aerynwrites]

The Devil You Know - 5

Chapter 5: Explosive Moments

(Gif by @pedroispunk)

Author’s Note: Phew, It’s finally finally hear you guys! I am so sorry I made y’all wait so long for this chapter, I honestly have no excuse lol. I hope you guys enjoy this step in Javier and readers journey because I know I did! Also - Thank you so so so much to @hiscyarika and @murdermewithbooks for reading over this chapter for me and catching all of my terrible tense errors. This chapter would not be anywhere near as polished as it is without you! I love you guys!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Blood, guns, mentions of drugs, canon typical violence, NSFW themes (but not really smut tho?) just like making out and stuff followed bu non descriptive sexual content.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

////

“What do you want us to be?”

The words seem to ring in your ears and bounce around in your head as you try to formulate an answer. What do you want with Javier? Do you want to just continue this…whatever this is? Or do you want more? It feels like your brain has been turned to mush, unable to function properly after Javier kissed you like a man starved, and then threw this question at you in response to your own query about this relationship.

Your eyes focus in on him, taking in the fact that his chest is still moving as quickly as yours after your heated kiss just moments before. But more importantly, as your eyes meet his - while they are blown wide with desire – you can decipher some other emotion there. Something that goes beyond just physical attraction and lust, and that’s what finally seems to ground you in this moment as your brain seems to catch up with itself and allows you to stutter out a response.

“I just–“ your mouth feels dry as you try and speak again, “I just want to be yours Javier, only yours. And I want you to be mine,” you finally confess, the words falling past your lips in a hushed whisper.

You hear a rush of breath leave Javi’s lips as he lets out a breath you didn’t even know he was holding, and then he’s on you once more. Lips crashing against yours even more fiercely than before, a certain dominance behind his actions. Your hands move to his shoulders squeezing harshly and you let out a small gasp as he gives your lower lip a particularly harsh bite. He doesn’t give you time to protest as his hands move from your waist down to your thighs pulling on them lightly in a silent request to jump. You comply without hesitation, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands grip your thighs to keep you steady. Javier must have remembered where your bedroom is from his first time here, because he manages to get you both there in once piece, his lips never leaving yours until he sits you down on the bed, crawling over you. His lips are on you once more this time trailing kisses from your jaw down your neck, all while his hands slide downwards toying with the hem of your sundress.

“It took everything in me to keep my hands off you at that bar,” he breathes, lips ghosting over your ear, “wearing this dress that leaves very little to the imagination.”

You can’t help the small whimper that slips past your lips as his hands slide back up your body, pulling your dress with it, “Well,” you gasped, your own hands moving to hastily work at the buttons of his salmon colored shirt, “You didn’t do a very good job,” you tease, “your hands were on me all night.”

You feel your heart flutter at the laugh that rumbles in Javier’s chest just as you finish with the last button on his shirt. He sits back on his knees pulling the offending article all the way off before leaning forward and pulling you up with him, so your legs are on either side of his.

“Can you blame me?” he groans, finally tugging your dress up and over your head, his fingers moving to toy with the back clasps of your bra, unhooking it expertly before sliding it from your arms and tossing it somewhere into the room.

His lips return to your neck, nipping gently at the spot just below your ear as your own hands move to explore the newly exposed skin of his torso. They skate across the warm expanse of his chest before moving to his back, studying the way the muscles flex under your fingertips. You can’t help the shudder that runs up your spine at the realization of the strength he possesses, as if the earlier confrontation at the bar wasn’t testament enough. The way he effortlessly holds you to him as he moves you beneath him, keeping himself suspended over you with just one hand beside your head and brings his lips to yours once more. This man is stronger than he appears and the thought that you trusted him enough to give yourself completely to him – make yourself so vulnerable to him – it makes the both of you gasp in pleasure.

“And when that pendejo touched you-“ you feel a familiar warmth pool in your lower belly at the small growl that slips past his lips, “I could have killed him-” he pants, pulling away to look you directly in the eyes, “because nobody is allowed to touch what’s mine.” As the words leave his lips, a small moan works its way up your throat and out of your mouth, and you pull him against you, wanting to feel his skin against yours.

It feels like the rest of the night passes in a blur. This time with Javier was different than before, while it was anything but slow and sensual, you could tell there was something else there. Some other emotion besides carnal desire was present in the room. You could feel it when his lips met yours gently, no rush or fierceness behind it – or when his hands roamed every inch of your skin slowly, worshiping you with words of praise and pleasure. But nothing compares to the feeling when it’s all said and done, both of your chests heaving in the aftermath of your highs. You turn onto your side to face him, watching as he leans over the side of the bed – fishing around for a moment before he produces a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Pulling one from the pack and lighting it, he takes a long drag before leaning back into the pillows, letting out an even longer sigh, smoke filling the air.

You are somewhat surprised when he reaches out to you, tugging you closer to him until you’re pressed against his side, both of your bodies still covered in a sheen of sweat. But neither of you seems to care as Javier wraps his arm around you and you rest your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat filling your ears. The room is filled with silence for a moment, the only sound being Javier’s breaths as he continues to smoke. You are the first to break it.

“So, was that a yes?” you ask quietly, shifting so you are looking up at him.

Javier lets out a small chuckle, putting a finger under your chin and guiding you up to place a kiss on your lips, “Querida,” he mumbles, lips brushing yours, “I thought I made it very clear that I want you to be mine.”

You can’t help the large smile that graces your lips at his words as you capture his lips with yours again. You can feel him smile into you, before pulling away and pressing a quick peck to your temple. He then snuffs out his cigarette in the ashtray, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. You feel a small sense of confusion fill you as you watch him stand from the bed and pick up his pants, tugging them on. You sit up fully now, holding the sheet to your chest as you watch him locate the rest of his clothing as well, pulling his shirt back on, fingers working at the buttons slowly.

“Where are you going?” you ask, voice timid as he pulls his shoes on.

Javier looks over to you now, and he feels his heart clench slightly at the hurt look on your face. He doesn’t want to hurt you, that is the last thing he wants to do, but if he is being honest – his brain is running wild with everything that has happened in the past few hours. He had beat the shit out of some guy at a bar for simply touching you, then he came back to your place and basically confirmed that he wanted to be in a committed relationship with you. It was a lot for him. This – growing this attached to you, making whatever this was official, it isn’t supposed to happen. This whole thing started out as a ploy to get closer to the DEA, a plan to get an even further head start against the people threatening his livelihood. He didn’t expect to fall in love with you.

Love? Is that what this is?

Javier stands abruptly as the word crosses his mind, and he shakes his head – trying to expel the troubling thoughts from his mind.

He walks over to you, leaning onto the bed slightly, “I have work stuff I have to deal with – I probably shouldn’t have even come out tonight,” he admits, only halfway lying.

You open your mouth, instinctively wanting to ask him to stay. Not only because you just want him here with you, but because you’re afraid of the things you would face when you finally fall asleep. The nightmares plaguing your slumber have become unbearable, rendering you wide awake most nights, terrified of going back to sleep. Afraid of seeing the people you cared about most gunned down or seeing Carlos lying motionless in that market again. You had hoped, for one blissful moment, that you would be able to sleep peacefully tonight with Javier at your side. but as you look at him now, a slight panic but also regret swimming in his eyes, you can’t bring yourself to say anything. You don’t want to burden him with your problems, not when you’ve finally made a step forward with him. You don’t want possibly ruin things by spouting off your problems. So, you just nod, forcing a small smile.

“Okay,” you breathe, “I understand.”

You see a small sense of relief wash over the man in front of you and he leans down capturing your lips with his in a quick kiss, before pulling back and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He stands back to his full height and backs towards the door slowly.

“What if I pick something up tomorrow and come over for dinner?” he suggests, standing in the doorway.

You shift slightly, “That would be great Javi but–“ you pause as he shifts in his spot, seemingly dejected at what he thinks is going to be your refusal.

You shake your head, “We just have a raid we’re doing tomorrow; I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you inform him, clenching the sheet in your hands.

Javier seems to straighten up at this, “A raid?” his voice is laced with concern.

“It’s uh-“ you run your hand through your hair, debating on whether you should tell him what is going on, and decide against it, “it’s just some low level drug guys,” you reassure, “It shouldn’t be anything major.”

You watch his jaw clench as he looks at you, as if he doesn’t believe what you’re saying. But if he doesn’t, he never says anything. He just nods and comes over, placing another small kiss to your lips before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours.

“Just–“ he pauses, taking in a deep breath, “be careful bonita, for me.”

You give him a small nod, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, before he pulls away, “I will Javi.”

He gives you a curt nod, “Good. I’ll still see you tomorrow, yeah?”

A small laugh slips past your lips, “Yes, I’ll give you a call or something when I get back.”

Javier gives you a large smile and walks towards the door again but stops before he leaves the room and turns to you, “Goodnight, querida.”

“Goodnight, Javi,” you whisper.

But he’s gone before you can utter the words.

~~~~~

The next day, your mind keeps drifting to the night before, trying to decipher Javier’s confusing actions. He had made your relationship official, he wanted to be with you yet, when it came down to it – he still left. And for some reason, that stings worse than anything.

A loud call of your name breaks you from your thoughts and you looked over at Steve who is sitting across from you in the truck. You, Steve, Carrillo and his men are all sat in the back of a large truck, geared up and ready to infiltrate the house where the rogue cartel members have been operating.

“What?” you call back, fighting to be heard of the roar of the truck engine.

Steve shakes his head, “Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all morning.” He calls back.

You nod, adjusting the rifle in your hands, “I’m good Steve,” you reassure, hoping he believes you.

Steve looks skeptical but nods nonetheless, “I said that we are three minutes out from the rogue’s location – Carrillo says we will be coming in hot!” he informs you.

You nod.“We need to try and keep some of them alive,” you call out, informing everyone around you, “We won’t have any information if they’re all dead.”

Carrillo calls out his confirmation before shouting the orders to his men and looks back to you, “We’re coming up on location now – are you two ready?”

You and Steve look at each other and nod, “Ready as ever.”

The next few moments pass in an explosion of activity. You are in a heavy infantry truck, and Carrillo has the brilliant idea of using the truck itself as a battering ram – placing you directly into the rogue’s base and hopefully stunning them. As soon as the truck makes impact with the house, you, Steve and the rest of the men on board jump from the back of the truck and enter the building. You and Steve takes the hallway in the middle of the house while Carrillo and his men take the other rooms and the upstairs. As soon as you enter the building, a Sicario stands from his position on the floor pistol aimed at Steve but you down him before he can get a round off. Steve nods to you that he was okay, and you continue to move further into the house and down the hallway. You check the first door on your left while Steve takes the one on the right. You shove the door open and quickly scan the room, finding no one in the run-down bathroom.

“Clear!” you shout, backing out of the room and turning when you hear gunshots from Steve’s direction.

“Clear!” his voice meets your ears as he too exits his room before you both continue down the hallway.

There’s just one door left on the right and it’s closed. You hear several more shouts of ‘clear’ being shouted throughout the house as you and Steve approached the last door. You look to him, and he just nods to you, resting a hand on the doorknob. He quickly turns it and shoves the door open, allowing you to go in with your rifle aimed and ready. You quickly enter the room moving in a sideways motion so your eyes can be on the majority of the room. However, as soon as you get past the doorway, you are met with a cornered Sicario in the back of the room and a shotgun aimed directly at you.

“Gun!” you yell, diving to the side and pulling your own trigger as you just narrowly miss the large shotgun blast aimed for your head.

Your aim was true, and your own fire made contact with the Sicario that shot at you, sending him falling backwards into the wall behind him. Steve runs over to the fallen rogue and throws his shotgun out of reach before striding back over to you, pulling you up from the ground and gripping your upper arms tightly.

“Jesus Christ are you okay?” he asks you, eyes searching you desperately.

You nod firmly, “Yeah – I’m good, he missed me,” you assure, but furrow your brows when you see that Steve’s eyes are no longer on you but focused on something behind you.

You turn around, Steve’s hands falling from your arms and finally see what he’s looking at. The shotgun blast that missed you, landed in the wall instead, leaving a smattering of holes with a large blast centered in the middle leaving a chuck of dry wall missing. However, it isnt’ the destroyed wall that draws your attention – It’s the slight shine of something in the wall. You and Steve look at one another curiously, before stepping forward and gripping the drywall firmly before slowly ripping it away. After a few moments, a considerable amount of the wall is ripped away and you and Steve stare in awe at what you have found. You take a step back, pulling your walkie from your belt and pressing the button.

“Carrillo,”

The radio crackles to life, “What is it?”

“You’re going to want to see this.”

~~~~

The unrelenting afternoon sun filters in through the windows and the large hole in the main room of the house. You, Carrillo, and Steve all stand staring at all of the exposed walls of the home – in complete shock at the sight before you. Carrillo’s men had taken down all of the drywall in the house, exposing what had to be thousands of kilos of cocaine hidden within the walls of the building. There has to be millions of dollars’ worth of this stuff in this house alone, and you know these low level Sicario’s didn’t make it themselves.

You walk over towards the window of the house, watching as one of Carrillo’s men lead a search dog around the property, seeing if they had anymore hiding places. Your eyes lazily follow the path of the dog as Steve and Carrillo continue to talk to one another.

“But where did they get it?” Steve asks, “There’s no way that twelve guys gathered and manufactured this much coke in this amount of time.”

Carrillo shrugs his shoulders and opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it, glancing back at the men from your position from the window, “They stole it.” You say simply.

Carrillo turns to you now, “From who? Los Carnales? Do you really think they got away with this much product without raising suspicion?”

You shake your head, “No, but think about it–“ you begin, “The cartel has been uncharacteristically quiet since the rogues have been on our radar. They haven’t been spotted at any of our check points, we haven’t seen any of the low-level drug runners at their usual haunts,” you list, “Los Carnales knows. And I can guess that their boss isn’t too happy about his own men betraying him and stealing millions of dollars of product in the process,” you turn back to the window, “And now that we have it…I have a feeling there is going to be a lot of noise.”

Steve begins to say something, but a loud and hurried barking catches your attention. Your eyes find the source of the sound, the earlier search dog you had been watching is going crazy over the shed several yards away from the house. You watch as one of the men approaches the shed with a pair of bolt cutters and cuts the lock away, swinging the doors open. You push off the window and turn towards the men behind you.

“I’m going to go check that out, see what they found,” you tell them, earning only a wave of the hand from Steve and Carrillo.

You roll your eyes slightly and move over towards the door leading out the back, and just as you pull it open, a deafening boom meets your ears and you are blown backwards. It feels like the next few seconds pass in slow motion. Your feet leave the ground as a wave of heat rolls over your body, the explosion shattering everything around you. Glass and rocks fly around you but you don’t even register the pain of the debris or the ringing in your ears – the only thing that plays over and over in your head are the words Javi uttered to you the night before.

“Be careful bonita, for me.”

Then you hit the ground with a smack, blood roaring in your ears as the dust settles around you.

////

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[stickyhoney]

This is it.

Title: This is it.

A/N: This is a very personal story to me. I recently exited a serious relationship, he was an enlisted army man. Writing about Syverson in many ways reminds me of him, so I consider this as a way of helping me move on. Truthfully Henry and my ex have a lot in common, so it can sometimes be hard for me to separate the two in my heart and words. This story won’t have a happy ending, at least for right now. Sorry in advance for the angst lol

Pairing: Younger Cpt. Syverson x Reader

Warnings: Pretty sad not gonna lie, flashbacks of fluff kinda, adult language, mentions of depression

You remember the day you met him, Syverson. You were just a sophomore in college, him a senior. He walked into work, wearing his tan cargo shirts and army green shirt. Immediately, you found him attractive. He was your type after all. At that point he had a large frame, slightly muscular, standing over 6 feet. You also remember how well you two got along back then. He made you laugh, sometimes to the point that tears streamed down your face, and your stomach tensed.

That’s where it all started, a great friendship. The more time you spent with him, the more your attraction grew. You two ate dinner every Tuesday night together after work, you would sit and talk for hours. Sometimes the two of you would talk until the food court had to kick you out because they were closing up. Everyone who knew the both of you, whether from work or your friends, wondered why the two of you weren’t dating yet. You knew. While the two of you were close, you always sensed he was withholding. That feeling has never changed.

two years later…

“What did I ever do to you to deserve this?” You choked on your tears, your eyes burned. The pounding of your head didn’t hold a candle to the thoughts racing through your mind.

It was all in your head. You fool. He never loved you.

You looked up to him, through your vision was all a blur. Nothing could be seen through your tears, so you squeezed your eyes shut until you felt the red hot tears fall down your cheeks. You knew you probably looked a mess, but you couldn’t find the strength to care. Physically you felt ill, mentally you felt drained, emotionally you felt agony. You dared open your eyes again, and there he was. Hovering over you, his eyes were full of guilt and pity.

“I never wanted to hurt you [y/n].” It always made you angry in the past when he stayed perfectly calm during arguments, when he cold as a stone. You thought it was because of the army at first, since they trained him to keep his emotions under lock and key. Over time you wondered if they had changed him for good, if his emotions were now something of the past. Now you knew better. He just never cared enough to argue.

“You hurt me worse than anyone could ever do again. You made me love you. You made me love you when you didn’t have a care in the world for me!” Unable to get up on your feet, you decided to stay seated on the shag rug. Your words had turned into quiet screams, your throat had dried out from your heaving. You were a true mess. Sy bent down to you, his hand falling on your knee. Bile rose in the back of your throat at his touch. Strongly, your hand smacked his away. You crawled away from him, your mind starting to enter a frenzy.

“I never said I don’t care about you.” You swear you could almost see tears forming in his blue eyes. “You know how much you mean to me.” Giggles started building in your chest, slowly forming into full laughs that escaped your lips. If anyone saw you, they would declare you a madwoman and have you committed. “I’ve given you everything I have. My heart, my love, my patience, my forgiveness, even my fucking dignity!” You wave your hand around yourself, showing the proof of lost dignity.

You stayed by Sy through his worst moments, helped him through his pain, or when he was being an arrogant asshole. That one grew to happen more often as time passed. Once he entered special forces, the small part he was hiding away from you grew larger and larger until you felt as if you didn’t know him at all. Sy had become his job. A cold, calculated, soldier. The joke was on you however, you thought he could be the man of your dreams. That your best friend could turn into your soulmate.

“I-I am not in the right head space for a relationship [y/n]. I never should have asked you out, for that I am sorry. But, you can’t blame me for everything.” He fell back onto his rear, his arms bouncing off his knees in defeat. The floor shook under his weight. You clasped your hands together in an effort to stop the shaking. “Oh trust me. I blame myself for making a mistake. I blame you for making my trust in you a mistake.” Your limbs begin to regain their power, allowing you to pull yourself up onto your feet.

1 Year Prior…

You were laughing with your girlfriends on the way back from lunch. It was freezing cold that day, but your friend insisted on wearing dresses. It was valentine's day after all. They were trying to cheer you up, they knew how sad you were over saying goodbye to Sy. Your cheeks burned from the cold wind, probably a bright crimson against your skin. You cursed your friends for talking you into wearing a dress in 10 degree weather. A red sweater dress clung against your form, something you would never have bought yourself. So of course your friends talked you into it. The laughs of your gang brought a genuine smile to your face. Then you saw him walking towards you. Your eyes had to be playing tricks on you. He looked just as surprised.

“Hi.” His gaze never strayed away from you until your friends spoke. “Who is this?” They were eyeing him up and down, drinking in his muscles that looked masculine in his dress shirt and khakis. You had never shown them a picture, afraid they wouldn’t believe you. Also afraid they would castrate him if they ever saw him in public. “Syverson. Nice to-” One of your friends hated his name with a burning passion for hurting you, so when she registered that it was truly him, she was not pleased. “You son-of-a-bitch.” He seemed unphased, if the army gives you one thing, it’s thick skin. “I’ve gotta go. I have a meeting.” He walked past you, as though nothing had been said between you.

Ten minutes into your friends roasting you alive for not telling them how hot Sy was, you phone buzzes in your lap. A text from him. Speak of the devil. “Would you like to have dinner tonight? Keep the dress on.” Your heart began pounding. A huge smile formed on your face, causing your friends to stir.

Back to present day

“You need to leave.” You now were looking down on him, he looked strange down on the floor like that. You had never seen him so vulnerable before. “I can’t lose you.” Your lip quivered in disgust at the man in front of you. “So you want me to care for you, and love you, but you won’t give me the same?” Sy had gone speechless, choosing silence as his answer. “You never made me feel like enough. I felt like I was just an adequate addition to your life, constantly fighting to keep your attention.” The television was still on from the two of you sitting on the couch watching Netflix. His army duffel bag still sat by the door like normal, his ball cap on your coat rack. “You need to leave.” It felt as if sacks of flour had been tied to your ankles, but you forced them forward to the door.

Your hand holds the doorknob, making you question your actions. Your brain has to take control from your heart. You look back at him, still sitting in the same spot on the floor. He pulls himself off the floor strongly, and grabs his phone off the coffee table. “I’ll give you some time.” Sy throws his jacket and ball cap on, and grabs his duffel bag off the floor. “This is it. I am not going to let you back in anymore.” You pull your front door open, and look to the floor. You can’t give him the chance with those blue eyes, then you would never move on.

He walks through the door, his boots sounding harsh against the wood floor. Before you can change your mind, you shut the door behind him. You drop to your knees, knowing that you may never feel that way about someone ever again.

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Asahi x fem!reader

(informally known as bby boy on my Google Docs)

Summary: Asahi just wants to impress you when the two gym classes combine and the activity just so happens to be volleyball. Little does he know, his plan to impress you goes awry in the worst way possible. Or so he thinks...

A/N: pls enjoy this fluffy Asahi scenario that I wrote with my best friend who helps me sort through all my ideas and is there for me always LOVE U 💕

- J

~

“It has come to my attention that coach Ito is home sick today, so coach Saito will be taking both classes today.”

Your head whips up at the announcement, eyes immediately wandering to a certain ace of the men’s volleyball team that you’ve had a pathetically massive crush on since first year. And you’ve never once been in the same gym class—miraculously—otherwise you think you’d have already made a fool of yourself in front of him. You’re not the most athletic person on the planet, and since Asahi must be a top athlete, there’s no reason for him to even notice you in the first place.

As long as you’re not playing volleyball, you think you can survive it. Please—please let it be anything else but volleyball.

~

Your heart sinks upon walking into the gym, the volleyball net strung proudly across the court.

Just kill you now. Either your heart will explode from watching him up close, or from being so nervous that you’re going to look like a complete idiot. He must tone it down for gym class, right?

Across the court, you think Asahi is standing there calm, and collected; but little do you know he feels like his intestines are tying themselves into knots from his nerves. He might be able to pull it together on the court, his mind fixated on winning, but with you here as his opponent he’s not going to be able to focus.

Only adding to his nerves, Suga and Daichi are not helping in the slightest. Having known about his crush on you since first year, they’re egging him on that this is his opportunity to impress you. Of course, he wants to impress you, but he’s unsure if he can—or rather, if he should. This is just gym class, not some high stakes game at a tournament.

Suga assures him that he’ll get him an opening. He ‘guarantees’ by the end of the hour, you’ll be head over heels for him.

Not knowing you already are. You certainly don’t need any help in that department.

True to his word, Suga does get him an opening. A perfect one in fact, in the form of a flawless set. So perfect, that as the ball connects with his hand, he can just feel how good his spike is going to be. It might be a little much for gym class, but it’s just this once; and he hopes you’re watching.

You are watching, kind of, from the back row where you’ve been trying to stay out of the way and touch the ball as little as possible. And you’ve allowed yourself to slip into a daze at Asahi’s perfect form, seemingly floating through the air as his hand connects perfectly with the ball. So entranced that you don’t even notice where the ball is going.

Directly at your face.

It’s then that Asahi realizes it too.

Please duck. For the love of god, please duck.

To his horror, you just stand there, completely unaware that you’re about to get nailed in the face. His entire being shrivels up as the audible sound of it smacking your face resounds throughout the now quiet gym. The force of it sends you flying backward onto your ass, abruptly knocking you out of your daze. Voices of worry begin to fill the silence, and as you blink your eyes open, squinting at the bright gym lights, you realize that the entire gym class has surrounded you sprawled out on the floor. The first thing that comes to your attention is the unbearable throbbing of your nose, and a tentative touch to it reveals that it’s bleeding.

Coach Saito pushes through a throng of students, concern strewn across his face. “Take it easy, don’t get up too fast.”

Asahi’s instinctive reaction is to crouch on the floor, weighed down by his guilt, hands covering his face in shame. How could he have done that to you?! He was only trying to impress you, not break your nose! One of Daichi’s hands comes to rest on his shoulder, quietly reassuring that it can’t be that bad while kicking Suga behind Asahi’s back to stop him from snickering that of course Asahi hit you in the face. Just his luck.

Slowly, you sit up with Coach Saito’s help, a little blood falling from your nose before he can hand you a tissue to staunch it. Asahi thinks he might throw up seeing it drip to the floor. There’s no way in hell you’re ever going to like him now!

“Take a breath, Asahi, it’s just a nosebleed,” Daichi whispers, nudging him to get to his feet.

He takes in a sharp breath, unable to breathe properly with the weight on his chest. Abruptly, he stands, bows, and shouts at the floor, “I’m so sorry!”

You chew on your lip, unsure how to handle having his undivided attention on you. Smiling sheepishly, you assure him, your voice muffled from the tissue pressed to your nose, “It’s alright Asahi-san, I’ll be okay.”

Coach Saito sighs loudly before instructing, “Why don’t you take her to the nurse, Asahi.”

His horror morphs into unease that he has to be alone with you after nearly breaking your nose not two minutes ago. In what world is him taking you to the nurse the best option? He’s the reason you have to go at all!

At this rate, Daichi knows Asahi is spiraling into a pit of despair and it’s going to be his job to drag him up out of it. Unsure if this will help or make it worse, Daichi murmurs “You can turn this around, use this time alone with her to your advantage!” And with that, shoves him forward to at least give him a physical stimulus out of his pity pit.

Asahi gives them a pleading look over his shoulder, only to be met with a reassuring expression from Daichi—and a terrifyingly stern one from Suga just behind him. With a look like that from Suga, he knows he has no choice in the matter. Taking a deep breath, he forces his feet to move towards you. He feels like his joints are creaking with each step he takes, screaming at him to stop, for he knows he’s only going to embarrass himself further by being alone with you. 

You watch him carefully as he extends his hand down to you, unsure if you’re imagining his stiffness. One thing you’re certain you’re not imagining is how you think you might pass out from how hard your heart is pounding against your chest. Being alone with him? Sounds like a dream in theory, but in all honesty, you don’t know if you’re going to be able to say a single word to him. 

He pulls you to your feet, steadying you as you stand, afraid the sudden movement might make you faint. “You alright?” He asks softly, so close to your ear you almost jump. You’ve never been this close to him before, and while you knew he was tall, you feel tiny beside him. 

Doing your best to curb the heat crawling up your neck and threatening to color your cheeks, you stutter, “Y-yes, I’m alright.” You then realize your hand is still clasped in his, dwarfed by the size of it. It’s nearly impossible to stop the redness blooming across your cheeks; Suga and Daichi are beside themselves watching the scene unfold. It becomes clear to them that not only can Asahi turn this around—he has a real chance with you. 

Slipping your hand out of his, you assure him that you’re fine to walk without help, and you both make your way out of the gym. The two of you walk in silence, not knowing what to say to each other, until inevitably Asahi becomes consumed by guilt and abruptly apologizes to you yet again. 

He nearly keels over at the small smile you give him, accepting his apology and telling him, “It’s okay, honest.” Comfortable silence befalls the two of you again until you reach the nurse’s office. 

Once inside, you explain to the nurse what happened—and Asahi is eternally grateful you don’t explicitly say who hit you in the face. He wouldn’t be able to look the nurse in the eye if he knew the culprit. The nurse instructs you to sit while he goes to find an icepack and some other supplies. While you wait, your eyes wander to Asahi standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

He’s unsure if he should stay or not. Would it be weird if he did? You probably don’t even want him to stay, since he’s the reason you’re here in the first place. Yeah—he should leave. 

But as he makes his move, he’s surprised to hear your voice muffled by the paper towel shoved against your nose say, “Can you stay?” 

Not only is he surprised, you are as well. Did you really just say that?! You’re not doing a very good job of keeping your crush a secret! You bite your lip, wondering if he’s going to grant your request, hoping with all your heart he will. 

His heart skips a beat in his chest, causing his steps to pause. So, he takes a seat beside you, reflexively apologizing for what feels like the millionth time since walking you here. He can’t muster the courage to look at you, eyes glued to his hands currently clasped in his lap. You notice his knuckles are white from how hard he’s holding them together. 

Is he...nervous? 

You open your mouth to say something, after all, when is the next time you’re going to find yourself with him alone? But you’re interrupted by the nurse returning and conducting a few tests to make sure you don’t have a concussion. 

Ten minutes later, you’re cleared to go with just an icepack and some ibuprofen. As you gather your things, Asahi thinks he better make the best out of his remaining time with you. But the only thing he can manage is a stale, “I’m really sorry. I’m glad you’re okay though.” 

You seem unbothered by his impulsive apologizing, giving him another smile, chuckling, “It’s okay. I’m sure you weren’t aiming for me, right?” 

His face flushes without his permission and he’s certain he’s going to pass out from how fast his heart is racing right now. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he stumbles, “Oh, uh—no, I—I wasn’t.” He closes his eyes, wondering if he can garner the courage to confess what he was really doing. “I was...actually...trying to impress you.” He quickly mumbles the last few words, hoping you’ll think nothing of it. 

You blink, stunned at what you think you’ve just heard. Did he just...say...he was trying to impress you?! You can’t help the grin that spreads across your lips, and his eyes widen, completely unsure what this reaction means. It’s then that you start laughing, and he really doesn’t know what to do with that. Are you—amused?

“Impress me?” You giggle. “You don’t have to do anything to impress me, I mean—look at you!” You gesture wildly in his general direction, the image of him floating through the air to spike the ball with the power of the ace behind him flooding your mind. 

His mouth drops open. 

Your heart slams to a halt in your chest. Did you really just say that...out loud? “Oh—oh, I didn’t—,” your voice falls silent, totally embarrassed that you just actually said that to him. Even worse when a small smile lights up his face. 

“Would you want to come to a volleyball game sometime?” 

Your throat dries up and a small voice inside you urges you to say yes. 

So, you do.