#hot coffee burns my tongue too often and I’ve given up on it

[4joonkookie]

Gravity

(Mirror, Mirror part #2, [or not])

⚘ Paring: Jungkook x Reader

⚘Words: 3.8K

⚘Summary:

Part 2 of the Mirror, Mirror series. All parts can be read as a series or standalone. (Standalone) - You strike a lusty connection with a sexy stranger at a concert venue. OR (Series) - Unsure about the future of your relationship, you recall the first time you meet and fuck JK.

⚘Tags/Warnings:

SMUT, flirting, public foreplay, infatuation, established relationship, non-disclosure agreement, angst, rough sex, putting on a condom is sexy?, waxing nostalgic, noona!kink, destiny, series, career woman, Jungkook takes long showers, oops there's a plot, lots of research on that 'Euphoria' harness, Seokjin cameo, commitment issues, avoidant behavior, unresolved ending, ending up to reader interpretation, just wanted to write a sex scene in the mirror and it's manifested into 4 parts.

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You stand frozen in the mirror, looking at your reflection until it fortunately steams away from Jungkook’s hot shower.

Quit your stupid job. Please. Stay with me. And you don’t need to have an answer. But we have to talk about it.

You could be predictable and do exactly what Jungkook thinks. You can leave.

Or. You could head to the kitchen, start a pot of coffee and unpack your bags.

Memories flood your mind, keeping you still.

-----

The thousands of seats in the stadium are empty but ample employees work through set-up and dress rehearsal for the concert happening tonight.

You stand on the stage watching the staff secure a performer to the platform harness, tightening a cable around his waist. They shuffle to finish and take steps back to watch the man be lifted, hung and swayed above the stadium seats.

This is the last item on your agenda today before you can head back to the hotel and rest for an early flight tomorrow.

The performer is slowly lowered down to the stage.

Working for these large venues means traveling, living in hotel rooms and keeping you too busy to take advantage of endless complimentary show tickets. Most of them go to waste or are given away . A “friend” (one of the many that come out of the woodwork depending on what show is in their city) casually asked about tickets to this particular concert. You told her the stadium is sold out but you had 2 tickets and weren’t planning on using them.

Your ears still ring with the high-pitched shriek she wailed into the receiver.

When the man lands safely back on the stage, you approach him. “How is it? Does it feel okay?” you say, in your best client - friendly voice as he steps off the device.

“Do I have to wear the wrist harness?” He rubs where the looped fabric has reddened his skin.

“It kind of burns.”

You scrunch your face before replying. “Yes, you have to wear the harness. It’s a liability if you don’t.” you say, matter-of-factly.

“A liability.” It’s not clear if he’s parroting you or asking a question.

“Right,” you nod. You signed a contract.”

“I did?” his hand on his chest, genuinely surprised.

“Well, someone did,” gesturing to the plentiful staff of his company.

“What does it say?”

“It says the stadium isn’t responsible for anything that happens to you if you don’t use the moving platform as recommended, I.E. with the wrist harness.”

He doesn’t reply. “Sorry.”, you add. Just trying to keep you and your 5 friends safe.”

“6,” he corrects you.

“6 What?”

“There’s seven of us. Me and 6 friends.”

You quickly apologize, realizing you may have come off rude and too eager to leave. You have no idea who he is but he’s not the first diva you’ve dealt with. You turn on the charm and start sucking up to the talent, as your job often requires.

“But if the fabric of this one is too rough on you...,” you briefly rub your hand over the reddening skin on his hand. “I think I have one in a different material that’ll be gentler on your skin.”

He laughs shyly and smiles. It wasn’t your intention to flirt but his reaction made it feel like you were. It makes him seem a little young.

“It’s ok.” He laughs again, containing a smile. “It’s not too rough,” eyes glancing at your lips and moving to your eyes. The wind blows his dark hair over his face but you can still see his eyes. His near smolder throws you off, causing you to dart your own eyes down.

“Are you sure?” feeling blood rush to your chest and face as the distance between your bodies begins to close.

“Yes.” He thanks you by name after quickly getting a glimpse at your name badge. “Is that your job? Making sure everyone is safe?” Embarrassed by your initial touch, he seems more confident now.

“Sort of,” you reply shortly.

Really, your job is to prevent the venues from being sued. Charming (and albeit, sometimes flirting) with talent is part of the job, so, you’re not sure why this random has such a pull on you. Or why your palms are sweating and your mind is going foggy.

“Wait here,” you instruct.

He nods and you jog to an equipment room backstage to retrieve another wrist harness. This one is made of silicone instead of fabric. You hurry back to him and worry you’re out of breath when you return.

“Here.” You pull the moving platform to you, stepping on your tiptoes to unhook the fabric loop. He holds out his hand to take the new one from you. You offer it and he easily reaches to hook it on, making you feel small as you return back to your flat feet.

“Hopefully, it’s a bit gentler for you,” you tease, taking some advantage of his bashfulness.

“Thank You.” He smiles. Your bodies are closer now and you can feel his breath.

Swallowing, “Do you want to try it.?” Soap and cologne fill your nostrils.

“Try what?” keeping his lips parted, eyes searching your face.

“The harness.” You pull the still-hanging platform and hold your foot down on the device so he can step easily onto it again. He raises his arm above his head and you loop his hand through the strap. You pull the belted cables and secure them tightly around his waist, feeling rigid muscles under his oversized t-shirt. He winces when you snap the belt closed.

“Speaking of rough,” he scolds, looking down at you, the world closing in quickly on you both.

“Safety first.” One of your feet between his, holding him down to the stage on the small platform. You could’ve had staff do it but eliminating this closeness seems wrong. “Ready?” you say, hands hanging from his belt.

His eyes peek down at your lips again. “Ready.” You step off the platform and give a thumbs up to staff working the cables above the stadium. They pull him for a few laps, flying around, giving you a moment to compose yourself.

When he lands, you replace your foot between his. “Better?” you ask, rising to your tippy-toes to unloop his wrist, letting your fingertips graze on the top of his hand.

“Better,” he replies, smiling ear-to-ear now. You wrap your arms around his waist again to remove the cables.

Behind him, a group of men huddle together at the end of the stage, conspicuously giggling and immediately stopping when your eyes find them.

“Are those your 6 friends?” you question, as you unhook the belt, embarrassed that you acted as if you were alone.

He steps off and rolls his eyes, endeared. “That’s them.”

“Ok.” You rub your face, trying to coax yourself back into reality. “You’ll let me know if you or your friends need anything?”.

He nods respectfully and thanks you by name again.

“You’re welcome.” You offer a wave and turn to slink away. You cringe when he calls you again. You turn to find a sheepish grin on his face.

“Do you know my name?” he asks with a knowing look.

You try to be casual. “No, I don't. You don’t have a name badge like me.” You take another step forward, being pulled in like a magnet again, onlookers be damned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you or your friends are. Will you forgive me?” looking up, controlling the urge to pout at him.

He scrunches his nose. “It’s ok. Kind of makes me feel normal.”

Funny, he seems normal to you. Your faces are too close to call this any kind of “schmoozing” or “sucking up” but you can’t drag yourself away.

“Your name?” scanning him from head to toe.

He crooks his mouth and inhales sharply. “I don’t know, I kind of like it this way.” He leans in closer, voice getting lower. “Is there somewhere we can go?” tongue running over his cotton-candy lips. “I promise to introduce myself.” He's painstakingly bold now and not a second too soon because you’re practically putting on a show, center stage. “Or is that a liability too?” he teases.

“I guess that depends on how rough you plan on being,” you taunt back and he exhales a breathy moan. “Follow me.” He takes your hand and you lead him to the office buildings in the stadium, empty on a Saturday.

“Is this part of your job too? Seducing singers?” he asks, as you approach the glass doors. You stop in your tracks before inserting a key into the lock of the building.

“I am NOT seducing you.” Reflecting on the last few minutes, you hardly believe it yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And no,” you continue. “I’ve never done this before.” You insert a key in the lock and turn your wrist.

“So, why me?” a hand still clasped with yours.

“Still figuring that out,” you reply, opening the door. “I’d hate for you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you, do you want to stop?”

He pulls the door open. “No.” gesturing for you to walk inside. You hardly make it in before he pins you to the wall right away, hooking his index fingers in your belt loops.

You look at him closely. “How old are you?”

“You first,” he says with a sly smile.

“Old enough.” You give him a playful shove.

Looking at him long again, “20.” you guess, sounding confident.

He grips around your waist. “How do you know that?”

You look up at him, thoughtfully. His lips are millimeters from yours. “Just a feeling,” you whisper. His lips finally press against yours, soft pecks at first. You breathe each other in and your mouth opens to him when he lifts a hand to the back of your neck.

He slots his legs between yours, heatedly pushing you harder against the wall. His lips move to your neck and both pairs of greedy hands squeeze and tug at each other's bodies.

Unfazed by still being visible through glass doors, you slip your hands under the belt of his pants to give his ass a squeeze and push his groin more roughly against you.

It gets more desperate, both of you panting and sweating through your clothes, still against the wall. He lifts up your shirt to grope at your breasts when you hear the speakers.

“Jungguuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuk, let’s goooooooo! We need to get ready!”

You peek out of the glass to see two other members shouting for Jungkook into hot microphones. He lets out a heavy sigh and kisses you hard again.

“Jungkook ,” you whisper. Like a prayer falling from your lips, naming the pull of his gravity.

He looks at his watch which prompts you to look at yours. 5 o’clock.

“I have to go. Can I see you later? Are you busy?” still panting and pressed against you.

“Aren’t you?” running fingers through strands of his chocolate hair.

“Later, later. After the concert, 10 or 11. “You’re staying for the concert?”

“Yeah,” you lie.

His name still blares over stadium speakers. He groans and pushes his forehead to yours. It’s a relief that he feels stuck to you too.

You begin to offer, “I have a hotel nearby, you can…”

He laughs. “Sorry, I can’t really do that. Can I have your number? I’ll have my lawyer find you tonight.”

“What?” you ask, confused.

“You know… liability and legal stuff.” A hundred voices tell you to end this right now. And one voice has you unhooking a pen hanging from your name badge and listing digits on his hand.

He plants one more kiss on you and just like that, he’s gone. You let your back slide down the wall until you’re sitting on the floor, taking a moment before you head back to the hotel to change clothes, put on your staff badge to blatantly take advantage of your job and enter a concert you don’t have tickets for.

You re-enter the stadium without suspicion and blend into the standing room. Any sense of nervousness disappears. You lose yourself in the magic of the show and his talent on stage, now done up and dressed in almost a costume. Still beautiful.

At intermission, a stranger in a suit calls you by name and introduces himself as the lawyer. You walk into an empty office as the stadium still buzzes. He talks and talks and talks. Then, he takes out a stack of paperwork, a non-disclosure contract.

You sign in about a hundred places. You know better, you should be taking time to read and sign carefully but your mind is fogged with the idea of getting your hands back on him, whoever he is.

“Ok. You’re all set,” the lawyer says, after a final signature.

“What happens next?” wondering when you reap the benefits of signing your life away.

“He’ll be in touch, I guess.” The lawyer shrugs and you walk him to the arena exit.

The concert ends and you head to an office to wait, unsure if you should leave the stadium.

Finally, a message from an unknown phone number with an address and hotel room appears on your phone screen. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach. You feel compelled to tell someone where you’ll be going only to remember that you signed an NDA that forbids just that.

You try to reply to the number and an error message immediately returns. “Sender not available”.

What the fuck. You stop and take a deep breath. This could be dangerous and now it’s going beyond “sexy” danger. You try unsuccessfully to convince yourself to stop thinking with your genitals and about the sexy stranger you needed to finish that kiss with.

It doesn’t feel real. You open an internet tab and search his name.

What a mistake. All the blood in your body floods to your core, knowing this man was potentially waiting in a bed for you makes your mind even hazier. Before you can catch up to your thoughts, you rush to your car to drive the short distance to the hotel.

Silent security guards escort you through the lobby and up the elevator. When the doors reopen, Jungkook has his back propped against a wall, expecting you. His hands are in the pockets of sweatpants. He doesn’t look like he did on stage anymore. Not like the pictures. His freshly showered and bare-faced appearance disarms your anxious mind.

“I’ve narrowed down who you are,” you start. “You’re either a big deal or an axe murderer.”

He laughs. “What if I told you neither is true?” He pulls you close by your waist and places a quick kiss on your lips. It’s too casual, like some muscle memory you never knew you had.

“The paperwork? The spoofed phone number?” you gently scold, as he leads you to a door in the hallway.

“You still came,” he says, opening the room door.

“Yeah, what does that say about me?” walking in ahead of him and taking a moment in self-deprecation.

“That you want to finish that kiss as much as I do,” door closing behind him.

You smile to yourself as you face away, heart fluttering at the notion that his idea mirrored yours. You turn to approach him.

“It was a little more than a kiss,” you flirt, placing your arms around his neck.

“Yeah…” his hands wrap around your waist again and his lips hungrily find yours. He bites gently on your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Sorry if that’s a little rough,” he teases, taking his mouth to yours again letting his hands roam. He adds: “I promise i’m not ‘axe-murderer’ rough,” he chides, and you both giggle between kisses. You sink into the familiar and comfortable space, regardless of being actual strangers . You lift off his shirt, eager for what you felt earlier, running hands gratuitously over his chiseled chest and abs.

“Do you want a drink or…” he’s graciously offering between kisses.

“No,” breaking your lips just long enough to reply, knowing he’s got exactly what you need right now.

Clothes are tossed in the air and landing on the floor before he lays you on the bed and the heated pace slows. He mounts on top of you and places slow kisses down your neck and chest while lowering the straps of your bra and kneading your breasts beneath the fabric. He takes nipples into his mouth, warm tongue circling, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your encouraging hands, tangled in his hair.

He moves to your mouth again, offering his tongue, slow but deep. He pulls your panties around your ankles and allows the palm of his hand to slide against your thigh before he can reach his thumb to stroke between your folds, causing you to shudder. He sucks at the tip of his thumb and moves his hips to push his still clothed cock against your center. You wrap your legs around him, urging him closer, needy for his friction.

“Be back,” he says, leaving a peck on your cheek. He walks to a bag on a nearby table, rustles through and retrieves a condom. You sit up on the edge of the bed as he struts back to you. He presents the foil square between 2 fingers. You peel it open, looking up at him. The back of one of his hands strokes your cheek while his other lowers the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing himself. You instinctively grip his shaft to plam slow strokes along his length and take pleasure in watching his eyes roll back.

You release your hand to pull the condom from it’s open wrapper, place it on the tip and use 2 hands to roll it down to the base before discarding the wrapper on the nightstand and pulling his underwear to the floor.

Leaning down to kiss you, he asks, “What do you want?”

You search for the words but opt to stand and silently guide him to sit back on the bed. He’s satisfied to follow your action as you straddle his lap and use your hand to brace his hard cock on your swollen center, rubbing up and down, slicking the rubber further. You guide yourself onto him, digging your nails into his shoulders slightly when you feel how he spreads you open, stretching and adjusting.

He groans when you reach the base, pushing down on your hips and shifting beneath you, getting deeper and widening your stretch. You whimper and squirm as you adjust.

“Too rough?” he teases.

“Not at all, '' you say, lifting your hips again and meeting the base faster. He pushes you down again, lifting his lap up.

“Good,” he breathes out, shakily.

You create a rhythm with your legs lewdly spread and circle your lower body, his shaft grinding against your sensitive walls, encouraged by his quickening breath.

His eyes are glued to your hips, watching them move. He slams you down a little harder, testing you. You both grunt when he meets the hilt.

You encourage his hand on your center, placing his hand on yours and setting the speed for him. He takes the cue and continues on his own, watching your face. You drop your head to his neck. He lifts you by your chin. “Let me see you.” The sensation is too much, and you're embarrassingly close. He quickens his pace below you, your own hips hardly moving anymore. You look down, entranced by his fingers. He uses his free hand to tug back on your hair.

“I said let me see,” you pulse around him at the words, a delighted smile on his face as he watches.

Still inside, he flips you on your back and buries himself balls deep inside you with an audible slap, bed rocking at the motion.

“Too much?” he sounds sincere.

“More,” you reply, challenging him anyway. He thrusts hard into you again with a sinister grin and keeps his pace, watching diligently as you take all of him. You whine at his deep strokes and he pins your wrists above your head, rendering you helpless as the pressure coils again at your center.

His grunts get lighter, whinier as he grips your wrists tighter.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse, and grope at his tensing ass cheeks when he comes. His thrusts become slow and shallow before sliding out of you. He takes a moment to lay his head on your chest before pulling and tying the condom off, tossing it.

He collapses beside you so you’re shoulder to shoulder and you fall into conversation, for too long and too late but you both delight in it, taking in more of each other.

“When can I see you again?” he asks as you prepare to leave, sunrise peeking through the curtains.

You’re a little surprised. The circumstances had you assuming this as a one-night thing.

“What do you mean?” you ask, unsure.

He gives you a suspicious side-eye. “Can I see you again?”

You attempt to shake down the guard you have up and smile at him.

“When?” you question, as his gravity pulls you back to the bed where he lies.

You lie side by side and compare schedules. It would be the first of hundreds of times you do this, comparing calendars and forcing your lives together.

You’re not sure when you stop forcing it but it’s happened. Now, 3 years later, you’re frozen at a fork in the road, torn to make a decision, knowing you can’t continue to drag him through your hesitation. You pick up your bag and head to the front door.

This first memory and a million others flood your thoughts.

When you saw him for the second time, weeks later, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You remember his flattered, cheeky smile.

The time you both got food poisoning and shared the bathroom floor for 3 days.

Surprising him backstage one night and sucking him off before a performance. His face was priceless.

The time he was so exhausted from touring he just slept for the 15 hours you were together. And you contentedly watched until you had to part again.

Taking a spontaneous flight just to get tattoos.

When you told him you loved him on the plane. “I love you.” The words slip out effortlessly, you don’t even remember what you were talking about. He’s pleasantly surprised and almost proud that you say it first. He reciprocates your words and seals it with a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Playing domestic during quarantine and settling into a chosen family when the world comes to a screeching halt.

The look on his face when he fucked you in the mirror last night.

His disappointed face before he got in the shower today.

You don’t notice Seokjin until he speaks, passing by you on his way to the kitchen.

“Leaving, noona?”

You don’t respond, still facing the closed door.

“Do you need help with your bag?” he’s walking up to you now.

“Noona,” he places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you going?”

Part 3/4 HERE

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

—

I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said. 

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt. 

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush. 

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day. 

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things. 

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again. 

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table. 

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.” 

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?” 

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.” 

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.” 

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger. 

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend. 

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left. 

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.  

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded. 

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.” 

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?” 

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet. 

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head. 

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.” 

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers. 

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up. 

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet. 

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work. 

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly. 

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said. 

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister. 

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.” 

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice. 

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?” 

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?” 

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face. 

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?” 

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.” 

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” 

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart. 

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve. 

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth. 

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide. 

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household. 

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said. 

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.” 

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window. 

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!” 

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said. 

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.” 

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship. 

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”  

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be. 

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself. 

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights. 

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages. 

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat. 

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid. 

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.” 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?” 

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.” 

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess. 

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in. 

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate. 

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie. 

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full. 

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?” 

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.” 

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

—

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her. 

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things. 

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him. 

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question. 

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again. 

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy. 

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?” 

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared. 

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb. 

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning. 

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away. 

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course. 

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine. 

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise. 

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted. 

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite. 

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs. 

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide. 

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner. 

“Jamie Taylor?” 

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her. 

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different. 

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment. 

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away. 

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware. 

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met. 

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable. 

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress. 

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself. 

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring. 

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin. 

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed. 

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked. 

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake. 

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning. 

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?” 

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.  

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away. 

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed. 

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ �� it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified. 

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively. 

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. 

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

[blownbybakugou]

1K Special | The Chick From Chicken Hut|

Thank you all so much for getting me to 1K! Here is a gift from me to you!

Pairing: Hawks x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2k

The gentle breeze of the night lightly ruffled his feathers as Keigo shuffled quickly to his favorite fast food place; Chicken Hut. The chicken was the best in town, and despite it being mildly unhealthy, Hawks was obsessed with the chicken they had there. So much, that at 3am, if he had cravings for it, he’d go and get it. Much like now. Keigo strutted through the entrance of the meat scented shop and leaned against the front counter, not bothering to look at the cashier. “I’ll have my regular.” He claims cheekily, batting his eyelashes under his yellow face covering. “And that is?” A voice asks, tapping their fingers against the tabletop. Keigo flips around quickly, expecting the guy that usually knew his order. But instead, he saw you. The glowing, beautiful, alluring woman before him. “Sorry, I’m new. I’m guessing you come here often?” You ask softly, giving a small smile. Dumbfounded, Hawks just stares at your glossy lips, almost in a trance at how welcoming they looked to him.

“Uh, hello? Do you want me to call an ambulance?” You ask, waving a hand in front of his dazed orbs. “No, no! I’m fine. Can I have 2 large buckets of chicken legs, with a small side of mashed potatoes?” He chuckles, rubbing the back of neck that was hot from embarrassment. “Okay! That will be ¥2186” You exclaim, sending the order to the back. In a flash, around ¥10,500 was slammed down onto the counter. “Keep the change.” He states, a grin forming onto his lips. “Um, a-are you sure? This is 100 US dollars, sir. I can give you change-”

“No, you can keep it. I have money to spare.” He boasts, his big, scarlet wings twitching behind him. “Yeah, okay.” You grunt, putting the money away and going to the back to see if his food was ready. You honestly just didn’t want to have to make conversation with the cocky bastard, and you knew if you stood there with him, you’d obviously have to. He did oddly look somewhat familiar to you, like you had seen him before. You try not to let the thought cloud your mind for long, as the food was ready. Since it was 3am, the order was out relatively fast, and you were quick to hand the abnormally large bag of meat to the bird-like man. 

“Thanks for coming to Chicken Hut, come again” You say, waving him off as he checked the contents of the bag. He gave you a quick wink when he walked out of the store, and it was just then when you realized why he looked so familiar. That was the pro hero, Hawks.

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The next day, Keigo came back, this time bearing flowers. ust to make sure you would be there, he made sure to arrive at the same time he had beforehand, even though this time his craving for chicken wasn’t as heavy as before. “Hello, beautiful lady.” He chirps, sticking the flowers out for you. “O-Oh. Well, it’s not everyday that I get flowers from a pro hero. Thank you, Hawks.” You smile. You were still a bit irked at how much money he flaunted at you yesterday, but this action nearly made you forget about it completely. “Ah, so you do know who I am.” Hawks laughed, eyes crinkled from enjoyment. “I didn’t realize until you walked out yesterday. Guess I was a bit tired from all the late nights.” You claim, brushing back some out of place hairs. “Well, I’ll have-” “2 large buckets of chicken legs and a small side of mashed potatoes. Already put the order in.” You giggle, leaning your chest into the edge of the counter.

“So, I brought you these because I wanted to take you out for a cup of coffee. Get to know each other and stuff. Are you interested?” He asks, removing the yellow tinted goggles from his head. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and neck at the confession, but you covered it up swiftly by looking down at your fingers. “Yeah sure. I guess it has been awhile since I’ve gone out.” You mumble, finally looking up at the blonde hero. “Glad to hear, little bird. Is tomorrow at 3 good with you?” He grins. Your heart skips a bat at the nickname, but you do your best to cover it up with a snide comment. “Is it 3pm or am this time? Because I don’t know if I can keep up with your hectic sleep schedules.” You laugh, and watch as Keigo rolls his eyes. “I’m not the one who works at 3am.” He scoffs, then joins in on your laughter. “Okay, you win. Tomorrow at 3pm.” You emphasize the pm, giggling at the end to make him smile again. Because you were beginning to think his smile was addictive.

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You were taking your sweet time getting ready, knowing that you didn’t have to meet up with Takami for another 30 minutes yet, and you also needed to make sure you looked perfect. You had given Hawks your number to tell you where you would be meeting up, and no more than 5 minutes after he had left with your digits, you got a message. 

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You entered the café, looking over the scenery and people, before spotting Hawks’ crimson wings near the window booth. “Hey, you made it.” Keigo smirks and gestures to the seat across from him. You gingerly sit down, and return the smile he gave you. "Yeah, well how could someone skip out on a date with the pro hero Hawks?” You respond. "A date?” Kei chirps up. You giggle, nodding while maintaining an evident blush across your cheeks. “You really know how to make a man bend to his will, ya know?” you brush off his comment with your own. “I work at Chicken Hut, the only way could make a man-bend to my will is by holding his order hostage” You roll your eyes. “I don't know, you caught my attention with one look.”

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The date went on for hours, long after the café closed, until it was time for your night shift once again. “C’mon, not even a discount?” “Nope, sorry. You got to pay for your food like everybody else.” The pout on Keigo’s lips made you weak to your knees, and mindlessly, you walked to the back to retrieve his chicken. 

“Here, take it.” You huff, your cheeks glowing a red that could make Hawks’ scarlet wings jealous. “Looks like my little songbird has a little crush on me” Takami hums, wearing a flashy grin that made your face burn a little hotter. “The fact that you’re referring to me as your songbird means that you feel the same way, idiot.” You backfire, jumping over the counter to face him. “What’re you gonna do about it, little chick?” He says smugly, looking into your eyes to take his dominance. “This.” You catch his lips, moving them rhythmically with him and drape your arms over his shoulders. The kiss was only a few seconds long, but you knew that you weren’t the only one who felt the flying sparks between you two. And that fact made your nerves calm down slightly, the nerves that were making your confidence shred to bits, and making the tips of your ears a bright shade of red.  

“Aw, is my little chick embarrassed?” You turn away, only for him to grab your jaw, and pull you back towards him. His wings wrapped around the both of you, caging you in his arms. “Have you ever had a dream, little chick?” Keigo asks, his voice making you shiver. “Of course I have!” You mock. “What is it then, Ms. Confidence?” He shot back, chuckling. “I wanted to be a chef, or at least be the apprentice of one. But sadly, that kind o stuff requires real money. Money that I don’t have.” You mumble to him. The food prep team were all in the back, and you could nearly feel their gazes burning holes into your head, which was barely sticking out of the top of Keigo’s wings. “Looks like my little bird has an audience.” He purrs, stroking your hair with his calloused hand. “I think they’re looking at you, bird brain.” You roll your eyes, all while wondering how long you could keep up this faux act of assertiveness. Hawks clicks his tongue, tapping your bottom lips with his pointer finger. “Such mean words, songbird” He whines, releasing you from his wing-trap. “Anyway, I’ll be off now. Thanks for the free food babe” He winks, speed-walking out of the place, into the breezy night. But you were happy knowing that he would come back the very next early morning.

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Oh how wrong you were. You may have gotten a little hopeful of your 3am fling, and that’s what drug you down when you saw that the blonde hero didn’t come in the next day. You had been so excited, that you had even prepared his food before he came in, and made sure to keep it warm in the back. You thought you were being smart, prepping it early so he wouldn’t have to wait long, but when he didn’t show, your efforts were wasted. One man and woman clad in tuxes entered the place, making your hopes completely drown. “Hello, what would you like?” You say, your voice dull and emotionless. “2 large buckets of chicken legs and a small side of potatoes” The female responded. Your eyes widened, but then the second one spoke up. “And we would also like permission to escort you to your new workplace.” He deadpans. “New workplace?” You ask. The agent look-a-likes don’t respond, only gesture to the door. Removing your uniform apron, you grab your coat and purse and follow them out. 

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.

.

You were intimidated by the large building they had brought you to, but you knew this building all too well. It was Harumi Kurihara’s chef’s school, the one you had been saving up to get in, for years now. “Ma’am, would you like us to walk you in? Or you would go in by yourself and meet up with Mr. Takami.” Your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets when you heard that name. “Hawks?” You chocked, watching as the female went to your side of the car and opened the door for you. “Indeed. We should go, he is waiting” You shuffled out of the car, and into the exquisite structure. “Hey, Bird-Brain!” You call out, treading towards him. “Mean-Lady, what do you think?” You lad into his arms, pressing your lips against him expertly. “Fuck you. I don’t like you because of your money, so don’t spend this much on me.” You grumble. “That was an awfully weird ‘fuck you’, songbird.” Keigo smirks. “And also, I didn’t spend money on you. Harumi and I are close friends.” You scoff, and give him yet another kiss, thanking him properly. “Thanks. But don’t do this again. I’m not the fondest when you flaunt your connections and money.” You deadpan, pecking his lips once more. 

“I got other things I can flaunt, don’t worry.” His hands slithered to your rear to hold you up, and then he squeezes your ass suggestively. You suddenly hear the pattering of heels against the white marble tiles, and look over to see Harumi Kurihara herself. You shake, your nerves overtaking you.

“Don’t worry baby. You’ll always be the chick from Chicken Hut I love.”

[uncommoncold]

...The Heart Grows Fonder

Summary: Yeosang’s girlfriend discovers the truth about Yeosang and Seonghwa. With everything out in the open, Yeosang and Seonghwa’s relationship deepens. 

Word Count: 3.1k

Content Warning: Dom Park Seonghwa, Sub Kang Yeosang, Anal, Voyeurism, Rough Oral, Emotional, Angst

As expected, nearly every single moment of their time after the holidays was taken up by their come back. Every single night that Yeosang’s head hit the pillow, he was exhausted. Wooyoung was even too tired to snore or he was too tired to notice his roommate’s quiet snoring. The time that he had been hoping for with Seonghwa was failing to materialize, even in the few hours here and there that they had free time, at least five of the other six guys monopolized Seonghwa’s time. While he appreciated the man was well loved by the other members, it did nothing for the jealousy that was gnawing away at him.

The fact that his jealousy seemed to amuse Seonghwa also didn’t help. He couldn’t help remembering the last time he had let his jealousy get the better of him and the punishment that followed. It wasn’t often that he cursed how little time he had to himself but he certainly had been recently. It wasn’t just his time however, it was also Seonghwa’s time he wanted.

Yeosang was staring pensively down into his cup of coffee when a thumb trailed down his spine to rest momentarily on his hip. He looked around and saw Seonghwa smiling at him. “Are you busy?”

“No.” He answered more than a little afraid of getting his hopes up.

“If you’re not busy, didn’t you say you had something you wanted to show me?” Seonghwa took a quick peek around and leaned in to whisper teasingly, “Do you have time to go to the hotel?”

Yeosang beamed a smile at his lover, “I’ve got something better.”

“Better?” Seonghwa looked a little puzzled.

“Let’s get out of here before someone else decides they need your shoulder to cry on.” Yeosang started to make his way to get his phone and jacket but Seonghwa pulled him back, closing the door to press a short but heated kiss to his lips.

“You sound jealous…” He breathed against his lover’s lips.

“I want to argue with you but I’m afraid if we wait too long someone will come looking for you, please? You can punish me for being demanding and impertinent all you want after we get out of here.” He grasped Seonghwa’s hand and pulled on it, trying to coax him toward the front door.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go then.”

Yeosang was practically dragging Seonghwa by the time they got to the car. Once the doors were shut and the engine was started, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”

Seonghwa laughed, “It’s okay. I guess I have been a little busy the last couple of weeks.” His expression softened and he lifted his hand to caress Yeosang’s cheek but stopped himself, looking back up to the house and shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

Yeosang refused to tell Seonghwa where they were going, he only gave an enigmatic smile and a mysterious, “You’ll see.”

The apartment was small but neat and clean and completely away from the house and anything to do with the guys or KQ. “What do you think?”

He looked around appreciatively, “I wish I had thought of it. I’ll help you pay for it.”

“No, it’s fine. My parents bought it for me when I said that I needed a place to escape to.” Now that they were there alone, he felt oddly… What was the word? Anxious? Definitely but also a little shy maybe? He had seen him bound, covered in sweat and cum. Seonghwa had seen him at his absolute worst and his absolute best, he knew almost everything about him. How could he possibly ever feel shy with him? That was when he realized that he was being watched. When he looked up, Seonghwa was watching him with a gentle and quietly contemplative expression. It was one he had seen before but it usually came when they were wrapped in each other’s arms … after.

He couldn’t help himself, he reached up and touched the older man’s face almost as if he were in awe of him. How could one person be so beautiful? It wasn’t just what was on the outside but what was on the inside as well. He cared so much for all of them and did so much for everyone else, he just wanted to give him a little bit of what he did for him personally. He wanted… He wanted him.

“What are you thinking about?” Seonghwa asked quietly.

“I- I’m not sure. I’m trying to figure out why I feel like this, I guess.” Yeosang gave a little smile, feeling embarrassed. He looked away and back again.

“God you’re adorable when you smile like that.” Seonghwa reached over and ran his hand over Yeosang’s soft blonde waves, combing his fingers through them. His fingers ran down the side of his neck, slipping behind to coax him forward and into a kiss.

It might as well have been their first kiss and yet it was nothing at all like their first kiss. It was slow, soft and unspeakably gentle. Their arms stole around each other, their bodies moving together. Yeosang gasped and fought to catch his breath. With his eyes still closed, he felt his lover pull away a little but he could still feel his heat, the electricity of his presence. “Don’t stop.”

Seonghwa smiled and closed the distance to lap at his lover’s lips, “Give me your tongue baby.”

He whimpered and parted his lips, tongue flicking out to meet his lover’s as it pressed between lips, twining together with his. There was a slow burn gradually consuming him. It wasn’t the raging inferno that so often overwhelmed him when they were together. No, this was deeper, brighter, hotter, and far more insidious. It burned white hot behind his eyes and it threatened to burn him up until there was nothing left. There was an idea of why that might be and that word danced just out of his reach. No, he didn’t want to name it. If he named it, then it changed everything and he wasn’t ready for it to change. Instead he let the flames wash over him, wanting to be seared away.

Seonghwa cupped his cheek, searching his beautiful lover’s face, before he whispered, “What do you want?”

“Destroy me.” Yeosang breathed with his eyes still closed.

“Is that what you want?”

Curious at the question, Yeosang’s eyes opened and were met with a burning intense gaze. “Yes… I want it all, everything from you.”

“You keep saying that without really understanding what it means… or maybe you do.” Seonghwa stared at him, his expression unwavering. “Take off your clothes.”

Seonghwa moved over to sit on the couch to watch as Yeosang hurriedly began to pull off his clothes. “Relax, we have all night. Take your time… show me.”

Yeosang’s head snapped up, all night? They rarely got to spend the night together, a brilliant smile dawned. That didn’t make him want to move more slowly, on the contrary, he wanted to feel Seonghwa’s sweaty, naked skin pressed against him, he wanted to give himself to him entirely. He didn’t want to wait, it felt like he was wasting their precious time but he forced his hands to slow as he took off his clothes. Slowly, he crossed to where his lover sat. He sank down on his knees between Seonghwa’s legs. He hadn’t been given permission to do so but he wanted to touch him. With his eyes on him, looking for the smallest change of expression, he reached out and ran his hands over his thighs, feeling the taut muscle beneath his jeans.

A little smile quirked Seonghwa’s lips. “You’ve gotten bolder.”

Yeosang’s heart fell, had he gone too far? “I wanted to touch you. I’ve been wanting to touch you for what seems like years.”

“Not just now, I mean over all.”

“I’m sorry.” Yeosang dropped his head and his hands.

Seonghwa leaned forward and caught Yeosang’s chin between his fingers, lifting his face. “Never apologize to me for what your heart wants. Never apologize for wanting me. I’ve given you every reason to think that it’s alright to touch me when you want to. If you want to touch me, you never need to question it. Just know, I will always do the same.”

“Now, what would you have done if you hadn’t thought I disapproved?” Seonghwa leaned back.

It was so strange, he spent so long with his lady - never touching her without her permission, never making any sort of move without knowing it was her desire, it was so strange to be told he could reach for what he desired. There was a thrill as he reached back out to run his hands along his lover’s thighs, further up over his hard stomach. As he watched, he could see the hardening of Seonghwa’s cock beneath the thick material, his mouth watered.

Seonghwa watched as Yeosang touched him, almost shyly. With a look that said plainly, he wasn’t sure if he should be doing it or not, he began to unbutton his shirt. He rose up to drag his lips over the body he revealed. He dragged his tongue from his waistband up over his navel, over his ribs, his nipples which tightened at the attention. He wanted Yeosang to know his body as well or better than he knew his own.

Yeosang reveled in the exploration he had always been denied in the past. He touched and tasted every inch of the man before him. The scent of him, the taste of him, the feeling of him, he took him in with all of his senses. He paid attention to each and every move and sound he made as he touched him - even to his fingertips which he kissed and suckled in turn. By the time he returned to the fastenings of Seonghwa’s still closed jeans, Yeosang was writhing against him. He had never known it could be so arousing to just explore the body he adored. With his eyes locked on his lover’s, he opened his jeans and worked them down his slender hips and discarded them with his underwear. For a moment, he just stared at his gorgeous cock. Slowly he nibbled his way up along the inside of his thigh, nuzzling his nose against his balls before trailing back down the other side. Not able to hold himself back any longer, he rose up and wrapped his lips around him. He moaned as his lips glided along his length.

God, the taste of him, the smell of him, the feeling of the head of his cock against the back of his throat… It was going straight to his head. He felt almost drunk on Seonghwa and they had barely begun.

Seonghwa’s hand settled in his hair, he felt the tug and then the tightening of his hand as he forced his head down. He choked as his lover’s cock battered its way into his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes as he fought to breathe between thrusts. Suddenly, Yeosang’s head was pulled up. Seonghwa was dripping with sweat, his face flushed as he panted, “Come here to me.”

Yeosang climbed up onto the couch, straddling Seonghwa’s lap. He couldn’t help wriggling a little as he felt the spit slicked cock between his legs. His entire body was alive with anticipation. It seemed as though it had been years since Seonghwa fucked him and he trembled with the need to feel him now.

Seonghwa reached over to his jacket and pulled a small bottle out of the pocket. He slicked both himself and worked his slippery fingers into his lover’s hungry body. Each press of his fingers caused Yeosang to push back against them. By the time he finished, he was whimpering and seemingly desperate for his cock. “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you to fuck me. I need your cock inside me.” There was a time he would have been embarrassed to say that but it seemed so long ago. Seonghwa liked to hear what he really desired, not just hollow words to suit, what he really wanted. What he wanted was Seonghwa and he was sure he would lose his mind if he didn’t fuck him soon.

Seonghwa inhaled sharply between his clenched teeth, “I slide yourself onto me. I want to watch…”

There was a small sound that caught his ear, he couldn’t quite work out what it was. It almost sounded like someone punching in their door code but he was more than a little distracted as he watched Yeosang slowly lowering himself onto his cock. This wasn’t one of the more usual positions for them and he was struggling but he was determined. He cried out and stopped for a moment before completing the motion and hilting his lover’s cock. Seonghwa wrapped his arms around him and leaned up to catch his lips as Yeosang began to ride him. He leaned back a little so he could see his face when a movement caught his eye over Yeosang’s shoulder. He saw her then, standing in the entryway, Yeosang’s girlfriend. Their eyes met. She looked more than a little surprised at the scene she had stumbled upon but she also looked to be … aroused. He was relatively sure that she had no idea that her boyfriend was fucking him when she wasn’t around to watch.

Instead of say something and draw Yeosang’s attention to her, he held her eye and smiled, daring her to say something. He knew she liked to watch, that was what brought them together in the first place. What was more, he wanted her to watch. He wanted her to see how different her boyfriend was with him. Yeosang whimpered his name, his eyes were closed, head thrown back as he rocked his hips.

“What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

Yeosang’s heated gaze met his and he breathed, “Choke me.”

He caught his lover’s lips and kissed him hungrily as he left Yeosang’s lady to watch or leave. He didn’t really care what she did at that moment. He had waited too long for this and he meant to have him. He reached up and wrapped his slender fingers around the other man’s throat and gently began to squeeze.

He didn’t try to cut off his air, that could cause damage and the pressure required might bruise and he didn’t want him to have to explain and handprint around his throat. Instead, he pinched at the sides, slowing the blood flow to his brain. He watched his eyes carefully, they dilated. He released his hold and the blood surged, sending a rush. He left his hand around his throat, as he fucked up into him. “Do you want to cum for me baby?”

Yeosang nodded, unable to give more than a strangled groan. “If you want me to.”

Seonghwa shifted to wrap his fingers around the other man’s cock and began to stroke.

He could barely think as Seonghwa’s fingers closed around him and deftly began to jerk him off. The fingers tightened again on his throat, the edges of his vision grew a little fuzzy, then there was a rush as blue lightning shot through him. The world fell into pieces as he came violently, it tortured him as he felt himself flipped onto his back, his lover moving over him as he hammered into him. It was seconds or an eternity, it felt both in equal measure, Seonghwa roared and slammed into him one final time before falling atop him. Yeosang reached up and ran his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair, down over his face, tracing his thumb over his lips. “Seonghwa…” His voice was hoarse and more than a little raw as he breathed his lover’s name. “I-” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say and just shook his head.

It seemed as though the other man understood just the same and smiled, giving him the softest kiss with a quiet moan. As always, he was praised, petted, and cared for. Through the thick haze that floated around him, he thought he heard the door open and close. He looked in the direction of the entryway and saw no evidence that what he heard was his front door. In the shower, tender hands bathed him and washed his hair. Soon he found himself tucked into the place he most wanted to be, Seonghwa’s strong arms in the bed he was sure they would spend many nights. “Mm, I wish we could always be together like this.” He was already drifting toward dreams and his words were barely more than a whisper.

Seonghwa leaned to one side so he could see the beautiful man who he cared for more than any other. He looked so young and vulnerable that he wanted nothing more than to protect him from the world in that moment. He held him, gently laying a kiss to his brow. “I want the same thing…”

There was a small sound, if it was meant to be words then they were lost as Yeosang slipped effortlessly into the embrace of sleep, wrapped in the arms of the man he adored.

No matter what happened, someone was going to get hurt and he hated that. The fact that it might be him had occurred to him and honestly he knew that might happen when he realized he was developing feelings for Kang Yeosang but there was so much in their lives that was impermanent and he decided that come what may, he would take the happiness that he could. What he hadn’t expected was that Yeosang would fall in love with him in return. He was sure of it though he hadn’t said as much and in truth, he wasn’t sure he even understood the depth of his own feelings. The fact that he had been dating someone for at least two years hadn’t really entered into it. He had seen their relationship and he was convinced it wasn’t healthy but it wasn’t exactly his place to tell him so. That was something he had to figure out on his own. It was part of what made him decide to show him what being loved felt like. It was possible to have the pain he needed and the love his heart craved. It was possible to have himself as well, that was what had been lost. It was slow going but he was doing his best to show Yeosang that he could indeed have it all… with him.

He glanced down at his lover’s sleeping face and smiled as he pouted and turned his face into Seonghwa’s shoulder. God he was cute when he slept. Whatever would happen, would happen. He only hoped that on the other side of it, Yeosang could have what he needed and could be truly happy. What would be perfect would be if he could find a little of that happiness for himself as well. He turned his head to rest his cheek atop Yeosang’s head and closed his eyes, only tomorrow would tell.

Other stories can be found on my master list.

[cadenceoftherain]

I HAVE!! Nico going back home after an exhausting day at work (a storm outside) and then finding her best friend Karolina cooking in her kitchen - they aren’t roommates, Karo just have a key. “Bad day?” “Not anymore, not with you here.” and then after some fluff Karolina says she loves her and Nico freezes, Karo run away thinking that she made a mistake, she takes the elevator and leaves. Nico runs after her (she takes the stars because fuck she’s too late to stop the elevator now) and then +

I hope this is good, I wrote most of it with like three hours of sleep to claim 😂 this was fun though, my stuff usually drags forever and I feel like this could be a real learning opportunity. Thank you for the submission! 😘

_____________________________________________

Anger seethed from the very core of her being. Above, the sky was dumping buckets of rain, uncaring and joyful despite the utter misery of underprepared pedestrians. Footfalls squelched in soggy shoes and echoed against concrete and steel beams as Nico Minoru approached her apartment. She looked longingly at the elevator, but with the lightning she'd rather not risk getting stuck in it. Up two flights of stairs, who were now showing signs of being trampled often after nearly three years of tenancy, and she was home, ready to shed her sodden clothes and fall into the arms of her couch and not rise again until she had to go back to that godforsaken hell hole. 

Surely she was deserving of basic fucking human decency. Surely after working her ass off for three years she deserved some sort of "thank you" and that promotion would have been fantastic, but no. Not even a little pay raise had come her way. She had been raised to be persistent, to be stalwart and headstrong. Instead, she'd grown stubborn and proud and couldn't bear to hold her current position much longer. Her attributes would be put to better use elsewhere, she knew, and had been anxiously checking her email to see if a potential hire had taken a nibble at her resumé. 

Thunder struck and lightning flashed just as she reached her door, finally under the shelter of the awning. Her key slid in easily, but Nico saw there was no need upon opening the door. It was no unusual thing to come home and find her best friend hanging around. They'd had keys to each other's living spaces for years now, and could usually be found at one or the other at any given time.

Pop music could be heard from the kitchen, and very poor singing accompanied it. Something smelled amazing too, was that curry? God, she hoped it was curry. 

Once inside, Nico sloughed off her hoodie, soaked completely through before throwing it into the dryer. 

"Nico? That you?" A voice called, and Nico's heart lifted. The music paused as Karolina rounded the corner, a smile gracing her already angelic features. It quickly slipped, however, when she saw how badly Nico had fared in the storm. "I'll grab you some towels," 

"Thanks, Kar," Nico called to her retreating figure, and then decided she might as well throw everything else in the dryer too. Silently, she prayed her phone had survived. It was water-resistant, after all, but with the day she'd had…

By some divine power, her phone was spared, and she blew out a long, slow breath and continued stripping down. 

At least that's one positive thing for today, she thought. And I don't have to cook tonight. And it might be curry. 

Karolina returned with two fresh towels, blushing furiously when she caught Nico naked in the laundry room. She was grateful she had cooking to tend to as she made her way back to the kitchen, unwilling to let her eyes stray. "Bad day?" She called out, hoping Nico didn't notice how high her voice sounded. 

Nico, of course, did not. "Not anymore, with you here. Work fuckin' sucked though," she replied. "They passed me for promotion. Again. I've been there the longest and I've now trained all my supervisors." 

"I'm sorry," Karolina said, coming back from the kitchen satisfied the chicken wasn't in danger of burning. She should have stayed there, however. 

One towel wrapped around Nico's waist, the other was on her head as she dried her hair, leaving a very naked, very toned, torso completely bare and covered in goosebumps. 

Clearing her throat, she kept her eyes strictly trained on Nico's face. "Well, I'd hoped we'd be having a celebratory dinner tonight, but that's okay, we can drink and hope for better tomorrow." 

Nico had to laugh at that. "As soon as I get an offer, an attractive offer or even a mediocre offer, I'm quitting. Then we can really celebrate. What are you cooking?" 

"Your favorite." 

Nico smiled fully then, any dark moods or thoughts forgotten. "Thank the Goddess above, I love you."

Karolina's heart flipped in her chest. 

"It'll be ready soon if you want to get some clothes on. Should be done by the time you get back." 

With the promise of hot curry, Nico bolted to her bedroom. 

Karolina took the time to put the finishing touches on the dish and make their plates, being generous with Nico's portions. In the dining room, she set the table and poured wine, this time her favorite blackberry bottle, and lit a few candles. 

Nico returned a few minutes after and glanced down at her choice of dress. It was nothing special, just leggings and a faded T-shirt. "I feel underdressed." 

Karolina chuckled. "It's just dinner, Nico." 

"It was just dinner, then you added wine and candles," she retorted, but took her seat all the same. After a day like hers, she was not going to waste time when she had curry in front of her. 

They are in companionable silence, Nico savoring every bite and Karolina savoring her enthusiasm. When they were finished, they moved into the living room with their wine and the bottle. 

Nico is finally relaxed now, leaned back against the cushions as the wine found its way to her bloodstream. 

"I really appreciate this, Kar," Nico murmurs. She was warm and dry now, and perhaps a touch wine-drunk. Had it been two glasses? One? She wasn't sure, but something about wine always had her feeling looser than it should. She didn't mind it, though. 

The other blushed lightly and sipped from her glass. She could hold her wine more easily, but her nerves had her stomach tied in knots. The wine felt thick in her throat and acidic in her mouth. 

"I certainly don't mind, but I wish it were under better circumstances." 

"Eh, one day," Nico sighed. 

"There's something I'd like to talk with you about," Karolina began, building her nerve. She carefully leaned forward and set her glass on the coffee table, facing Nico fully. 

Whatever wine-haze she'd found quickly fled as she grew nervous. "What's going on? Is everything okay?" 

"Everything's fine, I just need to tell you something." 

"Okay…?" Nico arched a brow. 

"I… I'm proud of you." Karolina diverted suddenly. "You probably don't hear that at your job very often, but I can see how much you care, and thought you should know someone appreciates you." 

Nico was touched, but still cautious. "I… thank you, Kar. I feel like there might have been more--" 

"And I love you." She rushed out, her heart pounding in her chest.

The girl balked. "I love you, too, Karrie." She said softly. It was no unusual thing to express feelings of love and familiarity, but this was different. Somehow. Karolina was watching her carefully, almost frightfully, afraid to sit too close or speak too softly.

A deep part of her swooned at that nickname, but she couldn't let herself get distracted by it. "I mean… I've felt this way for… a while now and I wanted to be honest with you about it… I'm in love with you Nico." 

Ocean eyes were pleading as Nico stared back at her blankly, then with startling clarity as the words sank in. 

"Oh. Oh. Oh, fuck."

And her heart shattered. 

"You know what, just don't even worry about it, it's probably just wine talking, you know how wine gets you lusty, but I should probably just go, I'll, um, I'll call you tomorrow." And she was gone, before Nico could attempt to throw a complete sentence together. 

"No, Kar, I lamp--oh fuck," she said, scrambling to stand. She hastily threw on shoes and raced to the walkway where the distinct ding of the elevator solidified her fear. 

She had to race the elevator, and she was the slightest bit tipsy. She bolted down the stairs, nearly wiping out had it not been for the handrail, and desperately searched for Karolina. The rain was impossibly heavier now, hammering against asphalt and roof alike. It was hard to see, but she'd only been a few seconds late. 

"Karolina!" She called, desperate to shout over the cacophony of rain and thunder to no avail. The girl kept walking, shoulders hunched in the onslaught of rain. "Karolina!" She tried again, taking leaping strides to catch up with her. She finally made it, her hand wrapping around Karolina's wrist as she tugged her to a stop.

She turned, her tears hidden by rain. "Nico, it's okay really, I can get over it just-" 

Nico had to stretch up on her toes to reach, but she was just tall enough to capture Karolina's lips. She halted any further thought, and the world fell away. She was warm against her, though wet, too. Her lips were impossibly soft and she wondered how sweet her mouth was. Daringly, she darted out the tip of her tongue, begging entrance.

Karolina obliged, her hands coming up to cup Nico's face gingerly. She swooned when she felt Nico's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as her tongue slipped past her lips. It was hungry, but not forceful. Desperate, but not needy. 

Breaking away, Karolina pressed her forehead to the other's, breathing unsteadily. Neither spoke for a moment, content to hold and be held while rain poured over top of them. 

"How long?" Nico asked softly. 

A gentle chuckle shook her form. "Always? I didn't… I didn't know if you'd reciprocate, and I didn't want to lose you…" 

"Karrie, I've had a crush on you since the third grade." Nico admitted, pulling back to meet the girl's eyes. "Every year for Valentine's day, I made a card for you. Everyone else got the standard drugstore, fill-out-the-names-and-throw-some-candy-in-it cards, but not you. Never you. And I continued that into high school and college in the name of some silly tradition, but really to comfort myself and the idea that I might never get to give you one for real. So I would pretend one day out of the year. I didn't want to lose you either, I didn't want to scare you." 

That was deep. Deeper than expected. Karolina could only listen with rapt attention and kiss her again. "You've really crushed on me since third grade?" 

Nico laughed, the sound music to Karolina. "Yes, really. I've loved you for a long time, Kar." 

She couldn't resist another kiss. And another. And another. Thrilled that she could, thrilled that it was wanted, that she didn't have to ignore the fire in her chest anymore. 

"Why don't we go back inside?" Nico asked, her lips teasing the edge of the blonde's jaw. "We can get dried off again and talk about what we'd like to do, or we can just see how it plays out. Either way, I have pajamas with your name on them, a bottle of wine, and a queen-sized bed with no one to share it with." 

Karolina chuckled at that, and stole one more kiss. "I'd love nothing more." 

FIN

[minsugapie]

Bodyguard (part 1)

pairing: bodyguard!Jungkook x idol!reader

genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

words: 6532

a/n: Happy Birthday to my birth year twin, a truly sweet and sexy boi whom i can’t help but admire his dedication and personality, and my #1 bias wrecker...

• • • • • •

PART 2

• • • • • •

“Y/N, your new bodyguard is starting tomorrow, so be sure to be as welcoming as you can. He will not only be a part of your team, he will be with you at all times. Due to your rising popularity, it is necessary for us to take extra precautions for your safety. You don’t have to talk to him or like him, but it is crucial that you learn to trust him with your life. His main purpose in life has now become your protection.”

What your manager Jin was explaining to you was intense, and you didn’t know what to do with the information. You didn’t want to have someone with you at all times, let alone some butch man you’d never met before. It just didn’t sound appealing to you in the slightest. Plus, how popular were you getting that a man had literally given up his life to serve yours? It wasn’t like you were the goddamn Queen of England.

You knew you were gaining popularity, but you didn’t think you needed a babysitter. At that moment, you couldn’t think of one thing that was positive about this situation. You were a generally a closed-off person when it came to your private affairs, and he was clearly going to be an invasion of that said privacy. 

So, it was safe to say that when you went to bed that night, you didn’t get much sleep, thinking about the possibilities of your not getting along with your new bodyguard. 

When the morning finally rolled around, you knew that you looked tired. Your eyes were puffy, your skin was dull and your hair was just sticking up at all the wrong places. Checking your schedule for the day on your phone, you realized that you had a few interviews to get through today, so you needed to head to hair and makeup right away. 

However, as soon as you walked through the door to your company, you received a text from Jin, telling you to come to his office right away. There’d been a slight change of plans in the morning’s schedule. You headed straight there, only to be greeted by a young face that you’d never seen before when you opened the door. His eyes were looking at his shoes, and he had his hands tucked safely in his pockets. He wasn’t all that large compared to what you thought he would have been. In fact, he looked like your average popular, gym-buff from school, who clearly knew that he was easy on the eyes. 

“This is Jeon Jungkook, your new personal bodyguard. Jeon, this is Y/N,” his voice was strained, looking between the two of you. Hopefully, she was receiving your death glare. You’d barely woken up this morning, before putting on a mask and a hat before leaving your dorm. You were expecting some middle-aged dad-bodied man with old man strength and experience behind his belt to be your bodyguard, but this guy was young, arguably your age, and he was definitely inexperienced. 

When he finally looked up at you, you gave him your best disinterested glare. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge the clear fact that you also thought he was easy on the eyes. 

Jungkook’s facial expression remained neutral as he bowed in front of you. You reciprocated the action and then turned to Jin again. “I should be getting to hair and makeup...”

“You’re right. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you. Jungkook will be coming with you starting now, so show him around, will you?”

Grumbling, you exited the room, not waiting for Jungkook to follow you, but judging by the quiet footsteps behind you, he was right on your tail. You told him what was behind every door as you passed them. 

Hair and makeup had always been your sanctuary. You put on your favourite music, shut your eyes and let the professionals do their job. But today was different; there was bump in the road. Even thought Jungkook didn’t say much, you could feel his brown eyes on you at all times, unnerving you. You cracked an eye open at him, and he didn’t change expression.

“Jeon,” you tested out his name on your lips. 

“What can I do for you?” He formally asked, never breaking eye-contact with you. 

“You don’t have to look at me at all times. Take a break. I don’t think anything is going to happen to me here. I’m with these people every day,” you insisted, praying for the hair and makeup team to back you up. 

However, the woman currently applying your foundation, trying to give your skin some life, said, “Actually, we were told that he’d be here with you and on watch, so it’s fine.”

You looked at Jungkook, and he nodded. You spoke to him again, “So what’s supposed to happen now? Are you just going to be with me all the time? Don’t you ever get time off?”

“I’m paid extremely well to keep you safe. Vacation is overrated.”

“Ok, but don’t you have to go home at night?”

He looked embarrassed at your question, scratching the back of his neck. “Um, they’ve relocated me to the dorm across the hall from yours…in case something happens at night.”

You groaned. You were being treated like a baby now. That was just great. 

Weeks went by with Jungkook by your side, but he still didn’t talk much. The only thing that he’d had to save you from so far was taking a sip of your coffee that was too hot. He’d noticed how hot it was when he gave it to you, and when you went to drink it, he swiped it away again, and told you that you needed to wait a minute, so you didn’t burn your tongue. 

What a hero. 

You’d gradually accepted that he was here to stay, so you began to share things about your life, receiving the occasional smile. He knew about your cousin (who was like a sister) that you’d always been jealous of although you two had an amazing relationship. He knew about your struggle with self-love and how you’d overcome some dark times in your life. He knew about your dog that lived with your parents that you couldn’t wait to visit. 

He knew you liked to be alone, but he figured out that you liked to be alone all by himself. 

You’d told Jungkook so much about your life that he had to be the person that knew you the best. He saw you every morning when you looked your worst, with an attitude. He saw you with full performance makeup and costume with your charm turned up. 

He would take you to your favourite restaurants that you hadn’t been able to visit since becoming famous, ordering whatever you suggested to him because it was your favourite. He was never picky and ate everything.

He would take you shopping, carrying all your bags with pleasure, and tell you his opinion on whatever you were wearing. According to him, you “looked perfect in anything”, but not matter how often you told him that all you wanted was for him to tell you the truth and be real with you, his response never changed. 

He would sit with you in your apartment and watch your favourite movies when you felt particularly sad or lonely, always asking you the right questions. It was during the movies when he would talk the most. And when you finally fell asleep, because you always fell asleep during movies, he would carry you to your bed and make sure that you were tucked in before silently slipping across the hallway to his own place. 

After a few months went by, you’d started to watch Jungkook watch you. Although he felt like a real friend in your heart, he really didn’t act like one. He was strictly professional. He always sported an expressionless face; his posture was always perfect; he made sure never to look you in the eye for too long. He really was all business. 

One night, you were working with two of your company’s producers, Suga and RM, but they were good friends of yours, so they were known to you as Yoon and Monie. Jungkook was sitting in the corner, eyes watching his fingers as you could tell that he was trying not to fall asleep. You couldn’t imagine how boring it would be to follow you around all day, especially writing days. 

“Jeon is taking his job really seriously. I’ve never seen someone so dedicated,” Namjoon commented, bringing his headphones from over his ears. Yoongi followed suit, and the three of you took a break. 

You cocked your head at the man bobbing his head, silently snapping his fingers to stay awake, eyes falling shut. “Yeah, he’s doing a good job, I guess. Although, nothing has been life-threatening so far, so we’ll see.”

You stared at Jungkook until he abruptly sat up straighter and opened his eyes, pushing his hair from his face. It had been getting long, and it often flopped over his eyes. You doubted he’d gotten it trimmed since you two met. A brief thought flashed through your mind, surprising you. Yet, it wasn’t that surprising either… You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, wondering if it was as soft as it looked. 

He noticed the three of you staring at him, and he apologized. It wasn’t like it mattered to any of you what Jungkook did during your studio time. Nothing was going to happen. However, having three people stare at you was surely not the most comfortable thing. 

You yawned, looking at the clock. It was already past midnight, and you had an early morning, so you said, “Hey boys, let’s wrap this up because I have a busy day tomorrow, and this gal needs her beauty sleep.”

Rolling his eyes, Joon teased, “You could sleep for an eternity, and it wouldn’t help.”

Feigning hurt, you squeezed your shirt at your chest and grunted, “Ouch, that shit hurted, Monie.”

“Yah, we all know he’s kidding. Joon was the first person to talk to you when you were a trainee, and actually he tried to hi—ow!” Yoongi’s words were interrupted by Joon’s fist connecting with his arm. 

You smirked at your friends. You were grateful that Joon had spoken to you when he did, and the boys didn’t know it, but you knew that Joon had wanted to ask you out. However, you never led him on because you weren’t allowed to date. “We all know I’m not allowed to date, so it doesn’t matter what Joon thought of me,” you teased, tucking your hair behind your ear before picking up your notebook and resuming your lyric editing. “Besides, I’m not really into music producers as of late…”

Yoongi was back to working before you even said your last statement, clearly also wanting to get to bed, but Joon was distracted. “What do you mean you’re not into them as of late? You were into them at one point? You’re into someone else now?”

Jungkook was watching you carefully, unbeknownst to you. He had been curious about your relationship to the two boys, and how close you actually were. It didn’t surprise him that you had caught the eye of the younger of the two producers, but he had no clue that you weren’t actually allowed to date them…or anyone at all for that matter. 

One other thing caught his attention, however, and it was the fact that you were possibly into a specific someone. It shouldn’t have been important to him, but he was your bodyguard, and he needed to make sure that you were safe and protected. If that meant warding of men who wanted to get you into their bed, then so be it. 

“I’m not sure,” you pondered, eyes flickering over to your bodyguard for a brief moment before wandering around the rest of the room. “I mean, yeah, I was interested in you when I first started out at the company, but now you’re just like an older brother. Recently, my thoughts have been tugging me towards men with a more hands-on profession.”

With a deep sigh, Namjoon turned back to his computer screen, shaking his head. “Women are so confusing…”

You worked in silence for another hour, finally settling on the arrangement of the lyrics before falling asleep in your chair, not phased from being under constant watch. So, when Jungkook saw that you fell asleep, he knew that it was time to take you back to your dorm. “Suga, RM, I better take her home.”

The boys were surprised to hear him speak, probably forgetting that he was in the room. They watched as Jungkook crouched in front of your chair, lightly shaking your shoulder to wake you up. “Y/N,” he whispered, “I’ll take you home, okay?”

Eyes still closed, you didn’t want to wake up. In your groggy state, you mumbled,“Jungkookie, will you carry me to bed tonight too?”

Jungkook was visibly surprised by the nickname you’d called him while the other two boys were surprised at your words, neither having been privy to any information regarding how close you and Jungkook had gotten. 

“I can’t carry you all the way back, so you have to get up,” he whispered, tugging at your arms to pull you into a sitting position. 

You pouted, still not opening your eyes when you bargained, “What about a piggy back?”

He didn’t even blink before he agreed. “Fine, you just have to get up for a minute to get on my back, okay?” You didn’t realize because of how sleepy you were, but Jungkook completely lost all professionalism when talking to you as you were sleepy. There just wasn’t any need because you weren’t rational anyways. 

“Okay,” you yawned, slowly getting to your feet. Cracking one eye open and then the other, you stood on the chair and draped your hands around his shoulders. You legs wrapped around his waist instantly as he held them tightly. 

Yoongi and Namjoon were silently observing the scene unfolding before them. By the way that your hands held him close and head nestled into the crook of his neck, they knew that he was the man with a hands-on profession that you’d mentioned earlier. 

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile when you said quickly, “Don’t forget my bag,” causing Jungkook to scramble around to gather your things with you on his back. 

Right before exiting the studio, Jungkook turned to them and made brief eye-contact. Judging by the slightly painful but also comforted look on his face, he reciprocated any feelings you had, maybe even surpassed them. Hell, Yoongi would have bet that he was in love with you. 

That’s it. That’s what a simple look can give away. 

So when Jungkook, left the room, they spoke about what they saw.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was in agony. Whenever, you asked to be close to him, it twisted the knife just a little but more. But now, with your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and your lips brushing the exposed skin of his neck, he was just about ready to quit being your bodyguard.

The company’s exact words from the interview rang through his ears. If you are offered this position and accept it, you must comply by these conditions amongst many other written ones in the contract. You must not enter into a romantic relationship with the artist. You must not allow her to wander off alone. You must be with her and comply to her requests (unless they go against the rules). You must give your life over to her protection.

It had been easy for him to agree to the terms when he’d been interviewed because he was fuelled by his wanting to provide for his family, who was struggling to make ends meet. He’d never met nor seen you and was convinced that you were just some spoiled idol, who needed protection. What he didn’t think would happen was his feelings coming into play. 

During the drive home, the thought of quitting and never seeing you again hurt enough, probably more so than the discomfort he felt by being around you. He couldn’t quit, especially after you’d asked him to stay with you that night when he tucked you in to bed. He would never trust anyone else to keep you safe the way that he trusted himself to you. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered, grabbing ahold of his wrist before he could walk out of the room, “stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t. I need to go back to my place to shower and get some rest.”

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” You knew you sounded as if you were going to cry, and it wouldn’t be the first time.

“You’re not alone. I’m just across the hall,” he countered, trying to back away from you again. This time the succeeded. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Jungkook left you all alone that night, wondering if you even meant anything to him. 

A few more weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that your relationship with Jungkook was purely professional, not that it was really anything else. You admitted to yourself that you developed a large crush on the guy. He was actually perfect, well, perfect for you anyways. Nobody was without their faults. 

You were at your favourite coffee spot, working on your laptop while Jungkook read the free newspaper that was on display at the entrance. He hadn’t wanted to leave the company this afternoon between practices, because there had been news that a sasaeng of yours was running around somewhere close, but you needed some air. So both you and Jungkook were wearing masks and hats, to try to conceal as much as you could. 

However, you’d been spotted in the shop somehow, and there was a swarm around your tables. People aggressively started surrounding the two of you, and for people that supposedly loved you, they sure didn’t care about your well-being. Jungkook stood up and tried to get you out of there as safely and quickly as possible. He didn’t even have to think about it. It was practically the most natural thing he could have done. 

While he was pulling you away and trying to keep people from touching you, there were photos being taking of you, and literally everyone was trying to pull you away from your bodyguard. You didn’t really know what was happening since it was all happening so quickly, but just as you made it to the door of the shop, you felt someone shove you, almost pushing you to the ground. 

Jungkook’s hands wrapped around you, and somehow, he managed to get the both of you out of there and away from the crazy crowd. It really was all a blur. Before you knew it, you were in the car and on the road, out of breath and speechless. You’d never been surrounded like that before when you weren’t at a concert or the airport. In the car, you were able to outrun everyone, so he took you home (where the didn’t know you lived) instead of back to the company. 

When you got there, nobody having followed you, you didn’t get out of the car. Jungkook’s voice finally sounded through the thick car air, and he was asking you, “Are you okay? You need to tell me if you’re fine.”

He was looking you in the eye, longer and with more intensity than he ever had. You were still trying to get it together. You were used to fans and paparazzi, but you weren’t used to being thrown around like you were in a boxing ring. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, reaching over to him and placing a lingering kiss on his mouth without a second thought. 

It was already a long second into the kiss before you even realized what you had done, and when you finally backed away, Jungkook looked stunned. You were stunned that you’d done it. 

After clearing his throat, Jungkook stated simply, “It’s my job,” at the same time as you said, “I’m sorry for that.”

You quickly and immediately covered your face, embarrassed. Before anything else could be said or done you hastily exited the car and rushed to your dorm. You couldn’t believe you’d just done that. There was no way that you’d just kissed Jungkook. He was your bodyguard, and he was completely off limits for multiple reasons. 

Sure, he’d looked extra appealing today, hair wavy and long, face fresh, and a clean smell. His smell, amongst other things about him, affected you. But this clearly was not allowed. You weren’t allowed to date…period, and he wasn’t allowed to date whomever he was guarding, and it your case, you. Your manager had told you that. 

Once you closed the door to your dorm, you groaned and smacked your palm to your forehead. How would you face him tomorrow morning? You’d have to apologize again and tell him that it was a mistake and that it meant nothing. He’d simply gotten you out of a really sticky situation, and you were grateful. That was it. 

It was two days later when you were finally able to look at and to talk to Jungkook again. You wondered if he would initiate any conversation, but it seemed like he was content just waiting and doing his job. Not a good morning greeting was exchanged between the two of you. Maybe he really did think nothing of it, and that you were just a job. 

Secretly, you hoped he didn’t think that. He had to at least think of you as a friend, right?

So when you were in your studio, trying to memorize your new songs, you had to talk to him. His staring was simply driving you insane. “Sorry, but I need to apologize to you again for a couple nights ago after the incident…I didn’t mean to kiss you, and it meant nothing. I was just very thankful that you got me out of that situation when you did…”

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. It’s my job to keep you happy and safe, and that’s what I did,” Jungkook’s voice sounded sure, but you were unable to read the expression on his face. 

You honestly had no idea what he was thinking most of the time. He had a very good poker face when it came to you. Apparently, he wasn’t all that reserved when he wasn’t with you. He was goofy and liked pushing people’s buttons. You guessed he just didn’t think he could be himself when he was with you. 

“You don’t care that I kissed you?” You asked, nervously playing with a thread on your shirt. Your lyrics were temporarily forgotten.

“No.”

“No, you care? Or no, you don’t care?”

“I do not care,” he didn’t hesitate, but he wouldn’t look at your eyes. His eyes were looking at your feet. 

Jungkook did care, though. He cared a lot because he liked it. In fact, it was something he’d thought about often. You liked ice cream, and he liked watching you eat ice cream. You ate an apple every day at 11:00, and he never missed witnessing it. You bit your lip when you were frustrated. You stuck out your tongue when you concentrated. The list of things you did with your mouth was endless. There was one thing you’d never done, until last night, that he had desperately wanted. 

You didn’t exactly make it easy on him. He was paid to watch you, and you were attractive. He had tried to convince himself many times that it was simply a passing thought, and that it was only because he had to look at you that he thought about it. 

However, since your little kiss in the car the other night, all the thoughts he’d ever had that involved your mouth came rushing to his brain.

So in conclusion, yes, he technically cared like he’d previously admitted to himself, but not in the sense that you were asking. 

After a brief moment, when Jungkook’s eyes finally shifted to yours, you blurted, “Did you like it?”

Now, Jungkook hesitated. You saw the slight fear on his face, but he didn’t give much else away. His body language was still reserved, hands in his pockets, hair covering his face, body looking rigid on the couch. “I could get fired if I answer that question.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything…it was a stupid thing to ask. It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to go to the bathroom…” You knew that what you had asked was unfair. He was there for your protection not to fall in love with you (or even just kiss you). 

However, Jungkook grabbed your arm on your way past him just as you were about to exit your studio. “Wait, I didn’t say that I didn’t want to answer it.”

You were confused. What were you supposed to do? Looking him directly, you let your eyes wander around his face, memorizing all the features you’d seen many times before. “I wouldn’t tell anybody, Jungkook. I hope you know that. I like having you as my bodyguard, and I like having you around. You’re my best friend.”

A slight tug on your arm was enough for Jungkook to pull you to him, onto him. It was odd, being this close to him. You were sitting across his legs, face only inches from his. 

“I liked it,” his breath was hot on your lips. You watched his eyes shift between yours and your lips. From this proximity, you noticed things about Jungkook that you never had before. There was a scar on his cheekbone, there were little moles on his face, the brown of his eyes shifted with every blink. 

His head tilted to the side when you didn’t answer, hands hesitantly finding a spot to rest. You wondered again what exactly he was thinking, but you wouldn’t let this moment go to waste. You shifted in his lap, so you were straddling him before hesitantly kissing him again. 

His hands finally found their place on your hips, bringing you closer to him, while yours moved up his chest and liked behind his neck. His lips felt amazing when they were moving against your own. It was different from before because two were actually participating. Jungkook’s mouth opened easily against yours, and it surprised you because the hesitation he seemed to have before had disappeared. 

You were seeing stars behind your eyes as his kisses drugged you. His lips moved expertly, and he seemed to know exactly what you enjoyed, and what he was doing. Your knees squeezed his waist as you moved your hands through his hair. It was as soft as you imagined. 

“Y/N,” Jungkook whispered, making eye contact with you for a second before kissing along your jaw and down your neck to the base of your throat. 

“I know, Jungkook, just don’t stop,” you breathily managed to reply. At this rate, you didn’t think that you’d be able to stop this. You hadn’t realized just how much your body was craving Jungkook until this moment. Judging by his eagerness to keep you close to him, he didn’t want  it to stop either. 

Gaining courage and taking a leap, you pulled at Jungkook, guiding him on top of you on the couch. You’d never be able to look at this couch the same again. You’d forever have the mental imagine of Jungkook laying on top of you on your brain. After this, you were sure that you didn’t want this to be the last time that Jungkook put his lips on yours. 

You crossed your legs around his waist, pulling him to you as close as you were able. His hands, although holding him up, lost all control. He rested his lower body hard onto yours and ran a hand from your knee, down your leg, over your hip, and up to your breast. You were covered in goosebumps (both from the cool air in the studio and how excited the situation at hand made you). 

It had been so long since you’d last been with anyone. When he’d been hired, you the only feeling you felt towards the guy was the fact that you didn’t want to be around him. Now, your feelings had done a full 180º turn. You wouldn’t say you loved him, but you were definitely harbouring a major crush on him. If you didn’t know before, you definitely knew now. 

You couldn’t help but rub up against him. It was becoming too much for you, waiting for him to initiate anything more, so you let your hands move up his shirt, taking your time feeling the muscles underneath. 

He took a sharp intake of breath when he felt your fingers; you figured it was because they were freezing, but there could have been other reasons as well. “Take it off,” you urged him, bringing the shirt up to his shoulders. He wasted no time in removing the article of clothing, evening the playing field when he urged your sweater over your head. 

Jungkook took in your body just as you did his. It was like time stopped at the two of you stared at each other with small smiles on your faces. Neither of you could really believe what was going on, or how it happened.

You knew deep down that you could get Jungkook fired for this, so it wouldn’t be able to leave this room or your dorms, but you hoped Jungkook would be willing to continue seeing you, regardless of his duties and obligations as your official bodyguard. 

You pulled him down to you again, practically forcing his tongue inside your mouth because you wanted it so badly. He smiled against your lips, lightly biting your lower lip to tease you. “Shouldn’t you be working? Your comeback is in two weeks,” he asked between deep kisses. 

“Yeah,” you replied, making no effort to stop what you were doing and get back to work.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Yoongi’s voice, “Y/N, I’m coming in.”

“Holy fuck!” You shoved Jungkook off of you as quickly as possible while trying to find your sweater. You were able to pull it over your head just as Yoongi’s eyes made contact with yours. Jungkook, unfortunately, was still struggling to tug his shirt over his head. 

You knew you were busted. You really needed to remember to lock that door. 

There was a guilty look plastered across your face, your lips pursed together, and you couldn’t look away from Yoongi. He was wearing a knowing smirk as he looked between you and Jungkook, who had finally regained his composure. 

“Your sweatshirt is on backwards, and bunny boy over here is sporting a hard on,” Yoongi commented. You hadn’t realized that you hood was in front until that second, and you automatically blushed.

“Yoongi, you can’t tell anyone!” You blurted, falling to your friend and begging him.

“I’m aware that he could get fired for this, so I won’t say a thing. I’m telling Joon, though, because he can’t be out of the group,” Yoongi promised. 

You looked at Jungkook, and his eyes were wide, looking confused as to what was going on. He was still hard, but there was nothing you could do about it now. You were sure that had Yoongi not come barging in, both of you would be feeling amazing right now. 

Taking a deep breath, you arranged your sweater and sat back down at your desk, picking up your lyrics again. You did need to get back to work. You needed to memorize the lyrics by this afternoon because you’d be learning the choreography then. “Why are you even here, Yoongi?”

Jungkook took a seat on the couch again, leaning his head back. How could he have let it go that far? Surely, this would just make your relationship complicated. He’d never be able to look at you again. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, so they sent me down here to tell you that you need to be in the dance studio in an hour. Good thing I volunteered, or both of you would be in big trouble, and you’d be without a bodyguard,” Yoongi answered you, words hitting Jungkook hard. 

He had to ask himself: what was more important, his job or you? It was so messed up because you were his job. He knew now that he’d spend even more time and effort guarding you because he had deep feelings that were possibly reciprocated. Doubt crossed his mind that you were just using him. After all, you were an idol and he was simply some boy from Busan that was hired to guard you. He hadn’t even wanted to be your bodyguard and had no idea who you were when he accepted the position. 

Fuck it all. 

The looks that you and Jungkook had been sending each other for the next couple days were loaded. You wanted to go back to your apartment and finish what you’d started, but by the end of these long practice days, you were exhausted and didn’t have it in you. 

It was break time in the practice studio, and you were hanging with Jimin, j-hope and Taehyung, three of your backup dancers. They’d been with you since the beginning, and you’d really missed them while you were on your “break”. 

“Jeon is looking at you again,” Jimin commented, playing with your hands. He was a touchy guy, and he calmed you down when he played with your hands. 

“That’s his job, Chim,” you replied, taking a quick peak at Jungkook. He was looking at you, and you knew that it was a different look than it had been before your moment in your personal studio. You hadn’t had a chance to really talk about what had happened, and now that it had sunken in a lot, you were nervous. Today, his long hair was draped over his dark eyes and he looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. 

“…Yeah, but it’s different, this time,” Taehyung noticed, taking a large swig from his water bottle. 

You continued to stare at Jungkook, a small smile starting to form on your face. 

You hadn’t told him that you wanted to seriously be with him yet, but you were planning to. Actually, it was going to be public. You’d written him a song, and it had taken you only an hour to completely write the lyrics. Yoongi produced it, so it was definitely fire. He meant a lot to you, and as long as he could be with you, you were going to lie to your company. 

It was going to be released as a b-side to your comeback single, and only a select few would know that it was for him. It would be your confession to him.

“Look, they can’t stop staring at each other. I bet they hooked up,” j-hope teased, poking your arm to get you out of the trance you were in. 

Your eyes widened, and you flushed all over.

“Hah! That response confirms it!” Jimin laughed, falling over onto the ground. It wasn’t abnormal for your little circle to be sitting on the floor, laughing, so nobody questioned it. 

“I’m going to have to work so hard to hide this,” you sighed. Jungkook seemed to notice your change of mood. You were no longer smiling or laughing. His smile faded and he looked as though he wanted to go to you and check out the situation right away. You shook your head briefly for him to stay where he was. 

“This is just too good. You’ve followed the rules for your whole life. I’m so proud that you’re saying fuck the system!” Tae was impressed, and you knew at least you had the support of all your friends.

• • • • • •

“Y/N’s comeback single performance last night broke the internet. So many people are buzzing about it. She’s never looked happier, many people noticed, and she seemed more lively and excited. It was a new side of her that everyone never knew that they needed. In addition to the new single, people are questioning the b-side song, which seems to have been written about someone special. She’s yet to comment on it, but we’re hoping that she will soon. The real question, however, is who she whispered Happy Birthday to at the end…” Jungkook’s phone sounded from across the room. 

You had just gotten out of the recording studio. You were working on your album, which was set to come out before Christmas. Jungkook was seated across from you while the producers and your manager took a slight coffee and bathroom break. You laid on the carpeted floor and stretched your back. 

“Y/N, I need to ask you about this song,” Jungkook whispered, visibly shook. 

“Happy Birthday, Jungkook,” you whispered, not moving from your position on the ground. Your eyes remained closed as you smiled. 

“But I don’t understand.”

You sighed. He was sure oblivious sometimes. You got up and went to sit beside him. His hair had gotten longer than you’d ever seen it, and you pushed it back from his face. You quickly removed your hands in case someone walked in. 

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you took a deep breath. Your legs were brushing as you linked your fingers through his. At least this was a position you’d be able to break apart quickly if someone walked it. It was no surprised that the two of you had become friends, and Jin was aware that you’d become friendly (he just didn’t know how friendly). 

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Jungkook admitted before quickly adding, “and I’m guessing the song was for me? At least, I hope it was…”

“The song was for you because I don’t think I can do any of this without you anymore. I definitely did not think that I’d feel this way towards you, but I do.”

Jungkook was watching your entwined hands as he rubbed his fingers along your knuckles. “So what are we going to do?”

“I think we have to keep us a secret until we feel like we can tell Jin. Who knows? Maybe he will be accepting…”

“I think it will be kind of exciting,” he smiled, leaning his head on yours. “Let me cook you dinner tonight.”

“You’ve cooked me dinner so many times.”

“But tonight will be different. It’ll be our first date,” he interjected. 

“It’s a date.”

Little did the pair know, but there had been a camera, documenting the making of this album, that had accidentally been left on. Jin would know in two days. 

• • • • • •

MASTERLIST

[purplesurveys]

1059

surveys by lets-make-surveys

1 - When you wake up, do you get up straight away or do you lie around in bed for a while? Lie in bed, even on work days. I work from home, so there’s nothing to prepare or look nice for, anyway. I can stay in bed and just roll out of it and head to my desk at 9 AM to start the day.

2 - Who was the last person you video-called with? Have you done this more often since COVID hit? Video calls make me anxious, so I’ve always turned them down even when it was someone I’m close with who was trying to call, like Angela. The only person I’ve felt comfortable having video calls with was Gab but that obviously hasn’t happened in a while. I think the last people I saw on video was my dad’s family, though I was still shy and asked my mom not to put me in the shot for too long.

3 - How many times a week do you go out for food or drink? Back then I’d do it 2-3 times a week. Then Covid happened and I had to stop; but now that I’m starting to try to put in more effort to take care of myself, I try to bring myself to a coffee shop for me time at least once during weekends.

4 - Do you prefer getting takeaway or actually sitting in a restaurant and eating your meal there? Dine-in. For me ambience is a big part of eating food, and even if I had the once-in-a-lifetime chance of getting to eat the absolute best meal in the whole world, if I’m eating it alone at home I would still feel like shit.

5 - Where’s your favourite place to get takeaway coffee (or whatever your drink of choice is)? Starbucks. We have five joints in the highway I live on alone, so it’s both a personal preference and a I-don’t-really-have-a-choice type of situation haha.

6 - Do you tend to keep your phone on silent, vibrate or loud? It’s on vibrate during work days; then I’ve formed a habit of putting it on Do Not Disturb during weekends or holidays.

7 - If you have pets, when was the last time one of them annoyed you? What happened? Cooper thought my hand was a toy earlier so he was biting on it, and not in a very playful way.

8 - When was the last time you went into a bookshop? Around a week ago when I was buying presents; I needed to get my cousin the mechanical pencils and eraser she wanted for Christmas. I also came across the bookshop that Gab and I would make a habit to visit, but I didn’t go inside as I didn’t know if I was prepared for the memories that would inevitably flood back. I looked through the stuff they had on their windows, though.

9 - What was the last thing you ordered off Amazon? I don’t know if Amazon operates here. But the last thing I got from a local e-commerce app - don’t judge me HAHA - is a phone socket featuring the face of my newest K-drama crush. I placed my order literally 10 minutes ago.

10 - When was the last time you took a dog out for a walk? Is this your own dog or did you borrow someone else’s? Yesterday. Both were my family’s dogs.

11 - What jewellery do you have on at the moment? Not wearing any, haven’t worn any in a while.

12 - Do you have any products in your hair right now? What are they? Just shampoo and conditioner. I never put anything else on it; I don’t really deem hair products other than those two a necessity.

13 - Have you ever used a VPN to access foreign content online? Hahaha no. I’ve wanted to try it out, but I’ve always been paranoid that the NBI would come knocking at my door the moment I install one of those.

14 - Who was the last artist you listened to? Is this someone you’re a fan of? She’s a Korean singer named Cheeze, though she’s honestly unfamiliar to me. The song she contributed for the OST of Start-Up is my absolute favorite in the entire tracklist, and that’s how I knew of her.

15 - What was the last thing you had to drink? I’m at a cafe joint right now and they didn’t have my usual order of caramel macchiato, so I opted for a Spanish latté because it sounded new to me.

16 - When was the last time you cooked something for the first time? Did it work out the way it was supposed to? I made a Monte Cristo sandwich, if that counts as ~cooking; this was about a little more than a monthh ago. It worked out significantly better than I was expecting, given how rubbish I am in the kitchen. I lacked a couple of ingredients, like mustard for the sauce and the right kind of cheese, but I still ended up liking it.

17 - Black cats are considered to be bad luck - is this a superstition that you’ve ever believed in? Not me personally, but I know this is still widely believed in my country. It’s sad, so I approach black cats whenever I can and play with them for a bit.

18 - Would you ever eat blue cheese or do you find the idea of eating mould to be pretty repulsive? It is definitely not my favorite; I’d say 5 times out of 10 I would consume it, and the other 5 I would set it aside. I enjoy it the most in pizzas and as a sauce for chicken wings.

19 - Do you visit the dentist every six months like you should? Is that the standard schedule? Lmao. I only go when I have to.

20 - How old were you when you first used the internet? Was it dial-up or did you have access to proper broadband? I was first exposed to the internet at around the ages of 3 and 4, when my mom would use the dial-up internet to email my dad (he had just started to work abroad). For many years I thought Yahoo Mail was the only website that existed, since that’s all I saw my mom use. Eventually my dad got broadband for the family by the time I was 10, and the first website I ever looked up was YouTube.

21 - Are you old enough to remember using floppy discs? I remember those; I just never had to use them myself.

22 - When was the last time you purchased an actual DVD or CD? Andi gave me a Petals For Armor CD for Christmas, if it counts. Because they’re the most awesome fucking friend. The last DVD I bought myself was probably a Beyoncé's Life Is But A Dream, which was...holy crap, 7 whole years ago.

23 - Do you shave? Which body parts and how often? I do. I shave my underarms every few days, and my legs monthly.

24 - What’s your favourite season, and what are some of your favourite things about that season? We don’t have the usual four seasons we hear about in other countries; we only have wet and dry. Between those two, I definitely like wet more because I love the rain, and I like how cold it can get.

25 - When was the last time you burned yourself? I took a big bite of a lumpiang togue yesterday when it was still piping hot, so it felt like I almost burned my tongue and the roof of my mouth. But since I was a guest at my dad’s family’s house, I couldn’t spit it out.

26 - Have you ever been the victim of a theft or robbery? What was stolen? Did the police ever catch the person who did it? Someone stole my wallet in high school, and I never got it back. It was a small petty thing that the police didn’t need to be involved in, lol. I know my mom’s family got robbed when she was a teenager, though; the worst thing that got stolen was their grand piano :(

27 - What was the last TV show you discovered that you really liked? What was it that got you to watch it in the first place? START UP. I first heard of it from my co-workers who would mention the show here and there; and because I was new to the team and wanted to have something in common with them so that I can break the ice, I figured I should start on the show myself. Ended up getting obsessed with the show and gaining a new Korean crush altogether.

28 - Have you seen any of the live-action Disney remakes? Which one is your favourite? What about your least favourite? No, those have never looked even remotely appealing to me. I never saw the point of recycling movies that already exist and already feel magical by themselves.

29 - Do you have any exciting plans for tomorrow? If not, how are you planning to spend your day? It doesn’t sound exciting on its own, but I’m very much looking forward to be a homebody tomorrow haha. We’ve been with extended family for five days straight and I’m at a café right now for some me time, so tomorrow I can’t wait to just be at home and lounge around.

30 - Would you ever keep a working dog as a pet? Do you think it’s fair to keep dogs like huskies in flats when it’s so different to their natural environments? If the dog is already trained or certified to be a certain kind of working dog, I don’t see the point in keeping them for myself when they could be beneficial for other purposes. The only time I see myself adopting a working dog is if they’re already at the point of retirement and would need a loving home to live out their remaining years.

--

1 - Are you a fan of garlic bread? Do you eat it on its own or as part of a bigger meal? Love garlic bread; I regularly have it with my pasta and occasionally, pizza.

2 - When was the last time your area was under some kind of weather warning? Did it end up being as bad as predicted? Last month, during Typhoon Rolly. Other cities had worse experiences, but it also wasn’t sunshine and rainbows on our end. We had a blackout for around two days and I had to file for an emergency leave four days into my new job, which was super embarrassing. It didn’t flood in our street but the water was high in other areas in our village, so we couldn’t go out for a while.

3 - Do you ever buy things from charity/thrift shops? What was the last thing you bought from there? I don’t recall ever buying anything from either.

4 - The last time you got fast food, did you eat in, takeaway or go through the drive-thru? My last fast food wasssssss Jollibee, and my parents got it for takeout so that we could eat as a family at home.

5 - If you have multiple pets, do they get along with each other? Hahaha no they don’t. It’s been six months since we got Cooper but the two still don’t get along, unless it’s Kimi trying to hump him. It’s understandable; Cooper is a vibrant pup that’s super excited and play bites all the time, and on the other side is a nearly 13 year old, nearly blind, can’t-smell-as-well-as-he-used-to senior dog; and I get that Kimi’s more sensitive to sudden movements now.

6 - Do you ever buy things off eBay? If you do, do you participate in auctions or do you just use the “buy it now” option? I never go on eBay. And since I’ve never checked it out, I never understood the gimmick of the website.

7 - When you go out, do you worry that you’ve forgotten to lock the door or turn something off? Yeah, this is especially the case with locking the front door.

8 - What fruits and vegetables have you eaten so far today? Do you tend to get your “five a day”? I didn’t know five a day is a thing of some sort; but it’s only 8:47 AM and I haven’t eaten anything at all yet today.

9 - When was the last time you were in pain? What caused it and did you manage to get it sorted in the end? Last night when my back was giving me hell. As for the cause...idk, years of bad posture maybe? I was able to deal with it for a bit with the new massage pillow that my dad got for Christmas.

10 - Do you live in an area that gets lots of snow? Do you like it? If not, would you like to live somewhere that gets that cold? I would love to move somewhere that’s generally more cold. Humidity gets exhausting to deal with.

11 - What was the reason for your last doctor/hospital visit? My fever had already been lasting for a week and wasn’t showing signs of going away. No Covid symptoms, just pure hellish fever.

12 - If someone had told you that 2020 would see a global pandemic, countries going into lockdown, compulsory face masks and millions of deaths, would you have ever believed that you’d live through something like that? My personal biggest surprise for 2020 wasn’t even the pandemic. I would have had a more violent reaction if I was told I would no longer be in a relationship and be barely talking to my then-girlfriend of six years by the end of 2020.

13 - Do you prefer having the blinds/curtains open or closed when you’re at home? Does it depend on the weather or the time of day? Always closed. I don’t ever voluntarily open the curtains or windows to let the sunshine in.

14 - Do you use an ad-blocker on your computer or phone? Why/why not? I use one on my laptop because the ones on YouTube can be extremely annoying. I didn’t know it was possible to put on ad blockers on phones (is it?).

15 - Do you still use a paper diary/planner to organise your appointments and schedules? No, but I’m thinking of getting a planner again for 2021. I used to get a Starbucks planner every year just because I wanted to get into their Christmas promo hype, but I never completed any of them. Now that I’m working and am busier all around, I see the bigger need for a planner. These days, I use a Google extension called Momentum to list down my to-do tasks. My parents also got me a corkboard for Christmas on which I stick notepads with things I have to do for the day.

16 - When was the last time you charged one of your electronic items? Do you have to charge that specific item often? I’m charging my laptop now. At this point it’s always plugged in because I want to keep the cycle count low, though I’m not sure if it’s the healthiest thing to do.

17 - Have you ever thrown or broken something in a temper? Yes, definitely. I’m not normally aggressive when angry, but sometimes it happens.

18 - What does your outfit look like today? Did you pick it out for a special reason? I have on a black sundress that I didn’t change out of. I wore it yesterday when I went to a coffee shop to spend some time on my own.

19 - Do you follow any vlogs or podcasts? What is it about them that interests you? I do follow certain channels who do vlogs, but I never tune into them since most of them have gotten a little uninteresting. I’m also subscribed to several podcasts like Andi’s and Renee Young’s, but I’m not always in a podcast mood; I subscribe because I want to support them.

20 - Aside from Tumblr, what websites do you spend the most time on? Do you go through phases of visiting certain websites? I visit Twitter and YouTube the most often. I will binge Reddit every now and then, and I will get into a Wikipedia black hole at least once a week.

21 - Do you have a good relationship with your siblings? If you don’t have siblings, what about your cousins or extended family? I do not maintain a relationship with my brother after he physically assaulted me last year. My sister and I are on good terms, but we’re not close in that I can cry to her or that we know each other’s secrets. We have a very good casual relationship, and we never argue.

22 - When was the last time you were up early enough to see the sunrise? I hate the sun so I don’t really do that lol.

23 - What movie series did you last watch from start to finish? Was it one you’d seen before? I only ever do this with Twilight. I have my annual Twilight Saga marathon where I watch all five films in one afternoon hahaha.

24 - Do you still enjoy watching children’s TV programmes? What was the last one you watched? Yeah, but only the ones I watched as a kid. My cousins and I watched the Wet Painters episode of Spongebob last Christmas Eve right after we finished Midsommar.

25 - Who was the last person to tag you in something on social media? How do you know that person? I have no idea. I’ve been going in and out of deactivation, so at this point I’m sure people no longer have any clue if I’m on a certain social media website or not.

26 - What was the last thing you took a photograph of? It was a screenshot of something I wanted to show Angela.

27 - Are you a fan of giving animals human names? Sure. I certainly find it funny when pets are given incredibly ordinary human names, like Bob or Mark.

28 - When was the last time you weighed yourself? Were you happy with what the scale said? Christmas Eve eve, when I saw a weighing scale in my cousin’s room. I mean it’s what I’ve weighed for the last 5 years or so, so I have no complaints.

29 - How often do you buy yourself new clothes? What was the last clothing item you bought for yourself? Used to be a few times every month, but I have not bought anything new since before the pandemic. The last items I got were still the tops with puffed sleeves that I bought in March.

30 - What is the reason behind your mood today? Is this something you could have done something about? I’m mostly at ease; a little anxious because work continues for a certain headache of a client even though we told them our office would be on shutdown; and a little melancholic for no reason. I’m trying to combat the latter by doing my embroidery and it’s kind of helping, but the sads are still lingering.

[synvamp]

HAPPY PLACE 8

“Love and other irritating crap that I don’t understand” - Qrow finally comes to the horrific realisation that he might be *in love* with Clover. Slow burn, flirting, banter... lovebirds at their angsty, sexy best. 

(Part One HERE)

Title: Healing

Fair Game – Part 8 / 10?

Rating: M

---xxx---

  The pillow hit Qrow in the side of the head. “Mffffff,” he said.

 “Come on, you have to get up or you’ll be late,” Clover’s voice. Clover’s scent. Ah, that’s right. Clover’s bed.

 “Urgh,” Qrow groaned from deep within his black soul, “I ha..”

 “Hate mornings, I know. Here,” Clover laughed lightly.

 Qrow blinked blearily and tried to focus. Finally he made out an incredibly muscled arm holding a mug of coffee. He sat up, pushed his hair back and took the offering.

 After a few sips, his brain fog started to lift. It was good coffee. “Wait you’re dressed? You got coffee? How long have you been up?”

 “I don’t know; hour and a half?” Clover shrugged, looking perfectly groomed and ready to take on the world.

 “Why didn’t you wake me?”

 “You were snoring.” “That is not a reason. Also, I do not snore,” Qrow pitched the pillow back at Clover’s head.

 He dodged effortlessly (stupid agile morning people) and stood up waving his scroll, “Well you won’t mind that I made you my ringtone then, will you?”

 Qrow scowled, “If I wasn’t naked…”

 “Ah, but you are! And I am not going to be late again, so drink up and I’ll see you later,” Clover leaned over and Qrow kind of froze. He didn’t even know why, they’d had sex quite a few times and Clover’s hands were often on his shoulder, around his waist… but this little gesture just caught him utterly unawares. Clover leaned down and just kissed his lips. Not a passionate kiss, just a little ‘I’m going to work, see you later love’, kind of kiss.

 Then he straightened up, flashed that seven thousand watt smile and flexed his ass out of the room.

 Qrow stared at the door for a long time, mind blank and heart doing something he couldn’t even recognise.

  ---xxx---

  “Hey, Uncle Qrow! We thought you weren’t going to make it!” Ruby enthused, running up to greet him as he slunk into the briefing room.

 “I overslept,” he reached out and tousled her hair.

 “You sleep?” Ren asked.

 “Har har, so what are we up to today?” Qrow asked, noting Clover was nowhere to be seen.

 “Team work!” Nora shouted.

 “O… kay?”

 “Clover’s given us all a day in the training room,” said Yang, “said we could polish up our hand to hand,” she grinned dangerously.

 “That so?” Qrow mused. It was true that they could learn to be more adaptable in combat. A brutal weapon was wonderful when you had it but he knew better than anyone that life didn’t always work out that way.

 Qrow teamed up with Yang (he didn’t want her to beat the crap out of anyone) and then put the others on rotation. Fifteen minutes with one sparring partner then change it up. Flexibility was an important part of being a combat specialist and as he watched Blake and Jaune out of the corner of his eye, Qrow decided Clover had a good head for teaching. It was just the right time to do this kind of thing, they were confident enough to be challenged, mature enough to learn from their mistakes.

 A metal hand ploughed into Qrow’s face, sending him cartwheeling across the floor. “Yes!” Yang pumped a fist into the air, “Take that!”

 Qrow sat rubbing his jaw, that prosthetic really packed a punch. Yang wandered over and offered him a hand which he swatted away, “I’m not dead yet,” he grumbled, standing.

 Yang leaned a little closer so that no one else could hear, “You need to stop daydreaming about a certain Ace Operative and pay attention.”

 Qrow didn’t even deny it, “I guess so. That was a good hit though, the way you moved inside my range… very smart kiddo,” he raised a hand to tousle her hair then thought better of it. He’d done that once when she was eight. Once.

 “So… how are things going?” Yang whispered conspiratorially, “Are you dating?”

 “I… things are good,” he smiled. “How about you?”

 “What about me!?” Yang said loudly.

 Qrow kept his voice level, “You ever going to tell the others about you and Blake?”

 Yang took a step back, “How did you…?”

 “I guess it takes one to know one,” Qrow laughed.

 “I… we’re waiting for the right time,” Yang looked away.

 Qrow nodded, it wasn’t like he was in a position to lecture on this one. “You do what works for you. It’s just nice to see you happy.”

 Yang smiled sheepishly, “You too.”

 “I am not happy! I’ve got a reputation to maintain here.”

 Yang laughed, “Well it’s good to see you enjoying the misery for once.”

 “Yeah, feels good too,” Qrow admitted, thinking of the way Clover’s arm wrapped around him when they slept.

 “Is that fifteen minutes?” Marrow called out, “My arm is going to drop off.”

 Qrow turned at the sound of Weiss’s lilting laughter. Seems like someone is finding Ice Queen Jnr. a bit of a challenge.

 “Alright, time’s up!” he called, “Hit the showers then lunch. I’ll meet you back here at two. Got it?”

 “Got it,” the students chorused.

 Qrow took his time wandering up to the mess hall. He let his fingers trail on the wall and thought about Clover’s touch, light but sure. So much of his time seemed to be dedicated to thinking about how Clover smelled these days. How his hands felt when they tripped down his body, lingering where he’d learned Qrow wanted them most.

 “Here you are,” Clover rounded the corner, “I’ve got a meeting at two so I thought maybe we could have lunch?”

 “I…” Qrow started. He was thinking about Yang and her ‘right time’. Was it the right time to be seen in a relationship? He didn’t want the kids to think that he wasn’t there for them. That he would ever leave them to go it alone after all they’d been through together… maybe he was over thinking. Yang just seemed happy to see him happy. Maybe it would be a relief for them to not have to worry about him being a moping sad sack any more. He felt bad for relying on them emotionally like he had. It wasn’t right to make kids carry adult sized burdens and despite everything they’d done… all they had achieved, they were still kids.

 Clover’s beautiful green eyes narrowed, “Or we could not.”

 “Uh…” What do I say? I want to be with him so much but… so much has happened and I just don’t know if I’m ready for this.

 “It’s fine,” Clover smiled easily, waving his concerns away, “I should sit with the Ops for once anyway, what did Weiss do to Marrow? He can barely hold a fork.”

 “He just needs to focus on his leg work.”

 “Ok, noted. Well… Just let me know when you’re ready.” And with that, Clover turned on his heel and sauntered that muscled ass away.

  ---xxx---

  When I’m ready.

 Qrow lay face down on the couch and groaned.

 When I’m ready.

 He means when I’m quite finished dicking him around and I know what I want. I’m sure that’s what he means…

 Qrow looked at the clock. Five past eight. He groaned a little louder.

 This is the longest night in the history of human kind. There’s some sort of time dilation happening. I refuse to believe that I’ve only been here twenty five minutes.

 He lifted up a couch cushion with one hand and pulled it firmly over his head.

 I could be there right now. I could be lying on his perfectly made bed completely naked with his hot tongue trailing up my thigh.

 Yay, he thought pressing his now very hard cock into the cushions, now I’ve made it worse.

 HOW FOR THE LOVE OF ASS CAN I STILL BE SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED?!

 Qrow let himself roll off the couch and onto the floor.

 He’s probably waiting for me right now…

But what is he really waiting for… he said…

 Qrow swallowed. He had to confront this eventually. Seemed like today was the day.

 He said that he was in love with me.

 He might have meant it, he might not, but he said it. And it’s time I figured out how I feel about this because if he loves me and I just hurt him… the thought of Clover upset did a funny thing to his chest. Tight. Tingly?

 Like something was crushing his heart.

 Come on. Admit it to yourself. You could be in love with him. How would you even know? It’s not like you have a string of positive relationship role models and a sparkling personal life to draw on. To him love had always been retrospective. The revelation of what you had lost in the very second that it was snatched from you.

 Do you want it to happen that way again? Do you want to wake up knowing that you’ve squandered yet another chance at happiness?

 He’d always pushed people away to protect them but… Clover didn’t need protecting. He was the first person in… near forever who made Qrow feel safe. Safe with others. Safe with himself. Like he wasn’t a curse or a burden or a jinx…

 But how do you even say these things? Oh Gods I know just how it would play out.

Qrow: *knocks on door*

 Clover: *opens the door, is shirtless for some stupid sexual frustration reason*

 Qrow: *stands gaping for an inordinate amount of time*

 Clover: Are you having a stroke?

 Qrow: *squeaks*

 Clover: So I’m just going to leave the door open, in case at some point you feel you can move your legs.

 Qrow: ILOVEYOU!IHAVETOGO! *runs*

 Clover: Ok. What an excellent choice I have made picking Qrow out of all the gorgeous fuck boys who clamour after my sleeveless GodBod. Really turning out great for me.

 Qrow turned over on the floor and pushed his face into the cushion again. This is so fucking stupid.

 Clover would know what to do. He was great at all this touchy feely stuff…

 But I’ve pushed him away.

NO. Qrow sat up suddenly and hit the back of his head on the coffee table.

 “AH, FUCK,” he exclaimed rubbing the significant bump that was growing beneath his fingers.

 That’s it. I’m not going to waste my life lying on the floor with a boner.

I am going to go and see Clover and I’m going to tell him how I feel.

If I can figure out how I feel on the way.

 He put on his shoes and glanced at the clock as he walked out the door. Thirteen minutes past eight.

 REALLY!?

  ---xxx---

Part Nine

[motleymoose]

Lukewarm Endearments at Best

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Gender Neutral!Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester (mention) Words: 2800+ Warnings: Flangst

It had been a long time coming.

Dad had always been a traveler. When he was home, he was a novelty to me, a stranger who was familiar yet so dang mysterious that it surprised me every single time my name came to his lips. Like, even as a little kid I didn’t think he’d know me from Adam unless I was right next to Mama.. And it wasn’t like I really knew him, either. How can you know someone who’s been on the road, away from you, for most of your life? Heck, when Mama passed, I didn’t even see him for at least 18 months.

Of course, he sauntered back into my life as if nothing had happened in that intervening year and a half, like I hadn’t been forced to become a responsible adult right on the cusp of 17, shirking high school, colleges and relationships in order to keep myself from drowning in debt and despair. I was angry, and I said some things I’m not proud to repeat. And like the distant, abstract saint that my father has always been, he stood there, stoically taking the tongue lashing I had saved up for him. Through all of it, I could feel my own grief growing deeper. I had lost my mother, but I realized I never really had a father to begin with. John Winchester had been a wandering canvas that I could project my ideals of fatherhood onto, and I had always been too caught up in my own little world to recognize that he was just as human as me.

Apparently a little too human. As I let my anger burn low and my voice grow quiet, Dad looked straight into my red-rimmed eyes and said he was sorry for what he was about to say. I told him that I wasn’t going to apologize for anything that I just told him, and he shook his head sadly.

“Listen, Y/N/N,” he started, and I watched as his eyes became distant and misty. “I’ve done a lot of shit I’m not proud of, and a huge part of it is how I’ve treated my family in the past.”

I snorted and began to speak, but he held up a hand to stop me. “Please, let me finish.”

“‘Kay,” I snapped.

He cleared his throat a little before continuing. “I’m not going to be around for much longer, and I want to know that, before I go, you are taken care of.”

“Oh, like you took care of me when Mama died? Thanks, but I‘m good.”

Dad flinched, his eyes darting guilty to his boots. “That couldn’t be help-”

My face grew hot. “‘Couldn’t be helped?’ Fucksake, Dad. You left us high and dry as soon as you heard the diagnosis!” I couldn’t be around him anymore, didn’t even want to be on the same planet I was so done with him. I forcefully concentrated on jamming my feet into my running shoes, fighting back the tears pressing behind my eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m going for a run, see yourself out.”

I slammed the door shut behind me, and that was the last time I ever saw my father.

-----

It wasn’t until last month that I’d read Dad had died. He’d been gone for over a decade. The obituary mentioned two surviving sons, but I was so caught up in probing the ancient scar of anger that my brain barely registered the fact. I found the old anger was weak from disuse, my coffee was cold, and I didn’t feel one damn thing either way about him. It was like reading the obits of a stranger. I felt no guilt, no anger, no grief, and I was able to quickly brush it off and carry on.

It didn’t hit me until a day later, in the middle of a crossword puzzle, that I had brothers.

After rereading Dad’s obituary, I decided to find these so-called brothers of mine. I guess I was lonely, and maybe some of the old anger was beginning to rekindle. I had a family of friends, those whom I could lean on when things got shitty, and I loved every one of them. But there was a kernel of curiosity planted in my brain, the urge to know who my brothers were and if they were anything at all like Dad… or me.

It wasn’t exactly simple to find my brothers but it wasn’t that difficult either; just like with me and Mama, Dad had set up his other family in a nice little neighborhood of a smaller city. White picket fence and everything. It didn’t last long, apparently. The house burned down with the wife still inside. But at least the kids got out alright and his precious car was saved. It was a deadend after that, no honor roll or sports write-ups mentioning a Sam or Dean Winchester could be found in any of my searches. Which was weird.

Weirder still was the FBI wanted list.

It wasn’t completely by accident that I stumbled upon Sam and Dean pouting lasciviously at the camera. Two photos, posted side by side in an archive buried under another archive stuck in a clunky footer menu. These files were hidden so deep in the government website that it took several days and one very long night to dig through all of the archived information. It was as if someone didn’t want anyone to find them. But there they were. No one could mistake the striking resemblance between me and the Winchester brothers. Same sharp nose, same alluring eyes, same crooked smile that must’ve broken at least a thousand hearts collectively. Obviously, I had better hair and fashion sense than either one of them, but that was all thanks to my mom.

Anyway, after the criminal reports came the death certificates. And after the death certificates and official police statements, I was at a loss for what to do. I knew in my gut that they were still out there, alive and raising Hell, but I couldn’t explain it nor find any evidence to disprove the official reports.

But after months and months of bum-diddly squat, a desperate hour of carnal need led me to something so fucking obvious, I wouldn’t have believed it if it has strolled up and bit me in the ass.

Dean Winchester was on Tinder.

Shrieking in surprise and triumph, I swiped right so fast that my finger would have left Grease Lightning in the dust. Yes, it was delightfully improper that I was pretending to not be related to him, but there wasn’t another option that came to mind to officially make his and Sam’s acquaintance. And I really wanted to compare notes on our father. And maybe punch one of them in the face. But I was beginning to get ahead of myself before I even got a response, my anxiety ratcheting my inner dialogue up to eleven.

<i>Aw hell,</i> I realized, this is a questionable and highly unorthodox way to meet your brothers in person. What if he swipes left? What if it’s not actually Dean but a catfish? It took a moment to scrub my mind of an actual catfish typing on a keyboard, but then I was back on track to berating myself. How could you think this plan was anything but sloppy at best? It’s almost inconceivable that-

bing!

The doubt dissipated as soon as I peeked at my phone.

Dean had swiped right!

Wait, Dean had swiped right. Which meant he was probably coming into this meeting with wildly different expectations than me. Dread trickled down my spine and into my already roiling stomach.

Thanks a lot, brain, I thought darkly, willfully ignoring the warnings flashing through my head. “No use in worrying about things that probably wouldn’t happen,” I growled. It was a quote that I often fell back on, but it never gave me any solace, probably because it was said by someone who had never had anxiety.

I shook the tension out of my hands before replying to his winky-kiss emoji. I bluntly suggested that we meet up at a tiny coffee shop not far from the main shopping district of a nearby town. If worse came to worst, at least I’d have a bunch of people at hand to witness my abduction.

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

A few hours and a double shot of whisky later, I was standing in line at the meeting place. I’d just given the barista my order when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

“Y/N?” Dean asked quietly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. He’d sidled up beside me while I had been making small talk with the barista, taking me slightly by surprise.

“You must be Dean, then!” I said, a little too brightly. Rein it in, Y/L/N, I chided myself. Readjusting my features, I gave him a pleasantly bland smile and gestured for him to order. After he was finished, he paid for both our drinks and took the lead to a table in a shadowy corner of the coffee shop. Plunking himself down in the booth, he gave a casual stretch and motioned for me to join him.

I pasted on another innocuous smile and took the seat opposite him. He shrugged off the slight and leaned forward, arms resting on the table. His entire body language was so overly nonchalant I was afraid he was going to fall asleep. “So tell me about yourself, Y/N,” his voice was soft and warm, his eyes twinkling suggestively.

Yep, big nope and a nuh-uh, that’s gotta stop. “Well, I’m a librarian by trade, I’m a cat person who also happens to be a Sagittarius, and,” I caught my breath, my brain hunting for something a little less blunt than ‘you’re my brother.’ “You're my brother.” The words fell out of my fucking mouth before I even had a chance to soften the blow. It took me months to find these guys, and my big mouth goes and forgets all forms of subtlety. The anger and frustration at Dad had built up so much inside me that I was having a hard time controlling my feelings, and now I could add embarrassment to the pile. And I never not have control over my feelings. Sometimes.

Dean sat back, stunned. He started to speak, fumbled over several words, and then shut his mouth. I waited patiently while his brain processed the information. It took a few minutes for him to break the silence. “I gotta make a phone call.” Dean stood up from the booth, shaking his head in disbelief, and stepped away from the table as he tapped something into his phone.

“No worries, I’ll be here when you get back.” I waved to him, all innocence and sweetness. He glanced back at me with furrowed brows and stomped off, whispering aggressively into his phone.

“That went better than expected,” I muttered to myself as I happily accepted our coffees from a rather bemused waiter.

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

Half an hour later, Dean returned. He didn’t look at all surprised that I had drank his coffee for him, only a little hurt. I would have pointed out that I’d saved him the trouble of finding it lukewarm and bitter, but the tension in the air was so thick around him that I thought better of it. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of Sam, the younger brother, ducking through the door and giving the baristas a friendly wave.

“Ooh, are we having a family reunion?” I sniped, feeling annoyed that I hadn’t even had a conversation with Dean yet and he was already calling in for backup. “You’ll have to excuse me for my earlier remarks, but I don’t like to beat around the bush.”

He quirked an eyebrow at Sam and frowned. The taller one rolled his eyes and took the chair beside me. Dean slid back into the booth. I was surrounded, but that didn’t matter. What mattered most was confirmation. And I wasn’t going to get that by just staring at them. I opened my mouth to speak, but Sam beat me to it.

“This is… quite the claim, Y/N,” he started, kindly. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to process having another sibling. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that it isn’t possible-”

Dean butted in, gruffly. “What my brother is getting at is that this isn’t exactly our first rodeo.”

Sam looked at him in worn exasperation, but shook off the comment. “Like I was saying, it isn’t impossible that you could be a long lost sibling, but… do you have any proof?”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the few pictures I had of Dad and me, plus photos of him and Mama I had shot when they weren’t paying attention. A knot was forming in my throat, but I forced it back down with a sip of ice water.

Sam and Dean each took a few of the photos, riffling through them like they weren’t my only link to a man that I barely knew. Dean stopped at one and nudged Sam. It was the one of me and my mom standing in front of Dad’s black muscle car, big grins pasted on our faces and dripping snow cones melting in our hands. I was 13 and still enamored with the idea of having a traveling father, too self-centered and self-conscious to think about the reason why he wasn’t around like all the other dads. The bittersweet memories of disappointment and otherness began to creep into my brain, sewing the chaos of sadness in their wake.

Taking a gulp of the ice water, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand to cover the frown pulling at the corners of my mouth. “That’s at the county fair. It was one of the longest times I’d remember ever being around him,” I said with a not-so-subtle tinge of bitterness in my voice. “He wasn’t exactly the type to come to the all-school play, or even stick around for more than a weekend.”

The brothers exchanged a look again. I was starting to get annoyed with that look; it was a secret language between siblings that I had never gotten the chance to experience because my father had kept us secret from one another. He had known that we all existed, had even <i>lived</i> with his two families at different times, apparently. I had never thought of Dad as selfish before, but the more I thought about it, the more I could see that he was just as much of a bastard as I had believed since reaching adulthood. The angry part of me was beginning to confuse the more rational side of my brain, and I needed to get the answers I sought before my inner voices started a war inside my head.

While I sat there fighting with my inner, angrier self, Sam and Dean had been in quiet conversation, heads bent close over the picture. Dean flipped it over to the other side, and frowned at my mom’s scrawled writing on the back. “This says it was taken in the summer of ‘94, which means you’re…” he stopped, forehead scrunched as he concentrated on his fingers.

“I’m about to turn 39, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out,” I replied, my knees bouncing from the stress and anxiety ravaging my nervous system.

Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “That can’t be right. Sammy? Right?” I could tell he was floored by the math. If I was 38, that meant I was born between their birthdays. And if that was the case, Dad had a lot more to answer for than just being crappy at his parental role.

Sorting through the photos again, Sam didn’t respond right away. He was lining them up in chronological order, studiously checking every detail.

“Sam!” Dean said sharply, nudging his brother’s elbow.

“Huh? Oh, right.” Sam’s eyes refocused on my face, but I could tell he wasn’t really seeing me. The evidence of my existence was plain on my features, and they would have to be fools to not see my resemblance to our father.

After a while, I began to get fidgety again. “Listen, guys,” I said as I stood up and gathered my things. “It’s been a real pleasure, but it’s getting late. Besides,” pausing, I looked both of them square in the eyes, “I’m sure you two have a lot to discuss.”

Turning, I threaded my way to the exit and made it just outside the door when Dean caught up to me.

“Y/N, wait.” He tapped my shoulder again, and I pivoted to meet his gaze. “If what you say is true, and you are in fact family. Well,” he glanced back at Sam who was coming out behind him. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

[artistic-writer]

The Paradox of Light :: CS AU : Rated E :: part 5

Title: The Paradox of Light by @artistic-writer​ Summary: Imagine having one person, one constant, one love in your life that holds your head when you go under the surface. They will be there forever, holding your hand through everything life can throw at the pair of you, but what happens when a crack forms? What happens when it grows into something neither of you can control? What happens when the one person who was there to guide you becomes an obstacle and rather than hold you up, they pull you down? How do you find your way out of the darkness without your light? Rating: E Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, sexual addiction, domestic violence, fighting, choking, erotic asphyxiation (use in a non-informed manner), depression, death of Liam Jones, panic attacks, PTSD, attempted rape/non-con/dub-con, stab wounds, bar fights, rehab/AA meetings

- but there is a happy ending to this story, i promise.

Author’s Note: I missed this ficversary because of everything that is going on in the world right now, but its been in the plan to re-release it as a multichapter for some time.  It’s A LOT otherwise and whilst I initially always intended this to be a one shot, because I wrote it in one go, its not logical to expect people to stop and read so many words in one go.  The lovely fanart by @itsfabianadocarmo​ features in all chapters, so go show her some love!

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!  This fic has a lot of them for a reason.  If you want to ask about any, please don’t be afraid to message me.

Part Five [ below the cut ]

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Five Years Later

Killian hated the meetings. He hated the way other people hated themselves because it felt like it belittled the way he despised himself. There were no words that he could ever have used to describe how rotten he felt, right down to the core, disgusted with his actions. He carried his shame around with him daily but he didn’t mind, because the sobriety chip he always kept in his pocket was far more important to him. It kept him grounded, reminded him of what he had lost but also somehow gained. There had only ever been one other thing as important in his life, but she had seen him for what he truly was and had left.

It was his turning point, the fork in the road, and luckily he had made the right decision and got clean. It would have been so much easier to have fallen back into a bottle, swam around in the bitterness of alcohol but he would have eventually drowned. So he went to the meetings, he told his story and the room of other addicts applauded him each and every time, and he couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t going through it alone. He wished Emma was there with him, to see how far he had come, but the guilt he carried for how he had treated her never let up and whilst he knew she was living in New York, thanks to Will, he was too contrite to find her.

Emma was adamant that he get help and despite her leaving him to do it alone, he figured it was the last thing he could have done for her to prove to her he wasn’t anything like the monster he had become.

“You come here often?” a voice said from beside him, making him jump a little. The hot coffee he was stirring with a tiny wooden stick sloshed out of the styrofoam cup and over his hand making him almost drop the cup in his haste to shake off the boiling liquid.

“Oh shit! Sorry!” The woman said hurriedly, grabbing a handful of the provided napkins and dabbing his hand without invitation. “Are you okay?”

Killian took the napkins from her and rubbed at his hand, the skin red and sore almost instantly. He stared at the mark, an oddly shaped blemish that resembled a hook, and frowned. “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said with a weak smile. “Hollye, right?” He offered her his hand after wiping the coffee from it down the leg of his jeans.

“Yeah,” she smiled back with a ruby tint to her cheeks. “Killian, right?” She pretended she didn’t know, letting her hand linger in his a little longer than intended.

“I am, thank you” he nodded, slipping his fingers from hers and returning to his half spilled coffee. “I’m not very good at making these, but would you like a coffee?”

“Please,” she smiled again, leaning on the table and cocking her head to one side. She was dressed to impress it seemed, her very low cut top exposing more than enough cleavage to make any man blush or salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs. She glanced behind her to make sure the other attendees were helping to clear the chairs before sucking in a breath. “I’m sorry. I know we are not supposed to form relationships outside of these things…”

“Relationships?” Killian visibly winced at her words, squinting an eye closed as he offered her the coffee cup. It was only half full lest they experience any more accidents, with a little wooden stirring stick poking out of the plastic sip lid. She took the coffee, clutching it with both hands and looked down at the wispy steam escaping from the lid clearly embarrassed. “Look, I’m sure you are a very nice lass,” he offered her quickly, dipping his head to catch her gaze and giving her a smile. “I’m just not…”

“Oh, of course,” Hollye shrugged, straightening herself up and pulling at her top, trying to cover up a little.

“I mean you no offense,” Killian said softly.

“She must be a very lucky woman,” Hollye said with a forced smile, trying not to sound too jealous over a woman she didn’t even know existed.

Killian laughed, the sarcastic chortle making him shake his head. “It was I who was the lucky one,” he said sadly. He shifted his weight, looking down at his own coffee which he swore bore Emma’s resemblance in the honey coloured crema.

“Was?” Hollye prodded with a frown. “I’ve heard your story. Was that her?”

Killian nodded. “Aye,” he blushed with a sigh. He had lost count of the times he had relived what had happened that night, in his nightmares and in the meetings. Each time things got easier to talk about, but it still shocked him to the core when a new member would gasp at his revelation, unable to hold their judgement.

“You still love her, don’t you?” Hollye smiled knowingly. Killian looked up and met her gaze, the upturned corners of her lips reminding him a little of the way Emma used to smile.

“I do,” he said without hesitation. “I always will.”

“Have you asked for forgiveness?” Hollye’s words hung on Killian’s mind. One of the first stages of recovery from any addiction was asking for forgiveness from the ones you had wronged. They didn’t have to absolve you, that was their choice, but there would be no progression in your recovery if you didn’t ask. Hollye took in Killian’s million mile stare. “I think you should.”

“It’s not exactly as easy as that,” Killian looked down again, lifting his cup to his mouth and taking a sip of the foul tasting bitterness the meeting organisers tried to pass for coffee. “I’ve only seen her twice since she left.”

“And what did she say?” Hollye prompted with a sip of her own cup, the sour liquid burning her tongue.

“Why am I even telling you this?” Killian chuckled, suddenly embarrassed. “We don't even know each other’s surnames.”

“And yet, you know how I walked the streets giving out hand jobs for a twenty and I know how you nearly raped your girlfriend because you were drangry,” she said with a ‘so there’ look.

“Drangry?” Killian cringed as he said the word. It sounded wrong in his mouth, clearly not recognised by any officiating language body. Hollye had seemingly made it up on the stop.

“Drunk angry. So drunk you are angry about everything. Drangry,” she clarified like it was obvious and took another sip of the coffee. “So tell me, what did she say?”

“Nothing,” Killian looked away sheepishly, the prick of red covering the tips of her ears. “I said I’ve only seen her twice, as in seen her. From afar.”

“Oh, you mean like a stalker,” Hollye teased and his head snapped up to give her a confused look. “Was you hiding in the shadows? Maybe nearby whilst she visited the grave of a loved one?” Hollye laughed but Killian did not join her, because by some miserable coincidence, she was right.

The first time he had seen Emma, he had thought he was imagining things. It was a year after she had left and when he had visited Liam’s grave on his birthday, there were fresh yellow flowers laid over the ground in front of the headstone with a small note that read, ‘See you tomorrow’ on it. The groundskeeper had described Emma exactly how he had remembered her and when he had returned the next day, skulking in the shadow of a nearby tree, she had appeared like a daydream come to life.

The next year he expected her return and sure enough, right on time on what would have been Liam’s birthday, she appeared again with a bunch of yellow flowers and sat at the grave for hours. She talked about a man named Graham, about how he made her happy and even though he wasn’t exactly the person she imagined spending the rest of her life with, she thought Liam would approve of him. That was the last time Killian saw her and he told himself that he was still new to the recovery process and he should stay away, all the while seething with jealousy and hatred for a man he had never met who had given her happiness when all he could have given her was more pain.

“Oh Lord, you did, didn’t you?” Hollye giggled, half scandalized by his silent admission. “You stalked her over the grave of a loved one!”

“My loved one,” Killian huffed. “My brother.”

“Oh,” Hollye lost her smile, her joviality fading immediately. She had been listening to Killian’s story for long enough to know that losing his brother was the start of his decline. “I’m sorry.”

Killian gave her a quick sideways smile. “You didn’t know,” he said quietly. “No harm done.”

“Isn’t it your brother’s birthday next month?” Hollye nudged his hand with hers, bringing him back to reality. She lifted her cup to her mouth, closing her lips over the warmed styrofoam and blowing gently over the surface of the coffee. It rippled and bobbed against the side of the cup, threatening to splash her face. When Killian gave her a strange look she just shrugged. “Do you even listen to anyone else’s story at these things, or do I have to do all the hard work for both of us?”

“I listen,” Killian pouted.

“Then you will also know it is Liam’s birthday next month,” Hollye emphasized his brother’s name and Killian staved off tears at the upcoming event. It was hard, it always had been, but even more so since he had been sober. There was temptation everywhere he looked, obvious and subliminal, but what really gave him the most turmoil was fighting the urge to see Emma again. In a way it was a welcome distraction, only it was becoming more and more difficult knowing she was in the same town at the same time every year and he hadn’t seen her for three.

“You should ask for forgiveness,” Hollye repeated, interrupting his thoughts.

“You’re a good person, Hollye,” Killian smiled, offering her his hand. She took it, shaking their joined hands up and down between them with a smirk.

“I’ve been called worse,” she winked.

 One month later

 Emma came home every year for exactly two reasons.

Her adoptive parents still lived in the town so she used the time to visit them, making sure that they were doing well and managing in their increasingly elderly state. They were older when they adopted her, having already had children of their own, but never being the sort of people to turn away a stray. Emma’s adoptive brother David tried to find the time to meet her at home, but he was busy and often it was just her. Not that the Nolans minded, because Emma was happy and that was all they had ever wanted her to be.

Secondly, Emma had never found peace at the passing of her friend, Liam Jones. He was taken from her life too soon, cruelly, and she had struggled with his loss for many years. When she had moved away she couldn’t shake the niggling feeling deep within her that meant she missed him terribly. New York felt like half a world away so to relieve the build up of anxiety, each year she would return home and visit his grave.

She tended the site, weeding and making sure that it was kept spic and span. Liam was a military man and so would never have wanted anything so messy representing the man he once was. Emma bought him flowers, always the same sunshine yellow Chrysanthemums because Liam always used to say that they reminded him of her. They were a happy flower, despite their association with mourning, and Emma always smiled when she saw them.

So far, each visit had gone without a hiccup. Until today.

When she approached Liam’s grave, there was already a huge bunch of bright, yellow chrysanthemums piled on top of the freshly weeded patch of grass in front of his headstone. The flowers were fresh, each petal tightly fixed in place, the crimped edges of each to tight to blow in the slight breeze. Emma frowned and looked around, but the graveyard was deserted, no other visitors catching her eye. She looked back to the flowers and noticed a card. Her brow knitted together in a quizzical expression as she knelt down and plucked it from the still tied bunch.

“Granny’s. 7pm.”

Emma’s breath left her and the hair on the back of her neck prickled to life, straining against her skin. It had been five years without a single word, but she would never forget the slightly italic, old world handwriting of Killian Jones.

In the time it had taken her to regain her composure she had returned back to the Nolans humble home and was greeted at the door by the enthusiastic Will. Will was almost five years old, not planned but not loved any less, and ran at her with an excited squeal as he called her name. His hair flopped over his eyes as her ran, feet pounding the hardwood floor of the hallway and almost jumped into her arms as she crouched to greet him.

“Mommy!” Will sang, leaping before he even reached her with utter faith that she would catch him.

“Hey lightning bug,” Emma chimed, setting him on her hip and brushing the lightly curled hair from his face. When she did, the blue of his eyes shone through his smile, his cheeks flushed and his words catching on his breath as he tried to tell her all about his day.

“We were playing pirates!” Will said, wide eyed and excited. “I was the Captain! And we walked the plank! And there were sharks if we fell into the lava!” He squeaked rapidly, his tiny lungs filling up between each sentence.

“Lava?” Emma quirked her brow, looked at him and trying to hide her smile. He nodded, a big grin on his face.

“But I didn’t fall in, did I?” Will almost arched his entire body towards the man approaching them, leaning out of Emma’s embrace with outstretched arms and a cocky grin on his face.

Graham was tall, broad and had the most amazing demeanour Emma had even known. She smiled as he walked towards them in jeans and a causal tee, his hair the same floppy brown style as Will’s and a warming smile that made her feel at ease. They even shared little habits. Will’s face when he was in trouble mirrored Graham’s when he was in her bad books and they both pulled the same face when they tried to bend the truth.

“No you did not, Captain,” Graham shook his head, saluting and going along with the boy’s story. “There was that time you pushed me in though,” he grunted, pulling Will into his arms.

“You said you wouldn’t tell!” Will gasped, giggling when Graham jabbed his fingers into his sides and wiggled them, instantly causing Will to almost bend in half and wriggle in his arms.

“So you had fun without me?” Emma asked softly, her heart swelling with joy as her son hit the ground running, calling out for Papa Nolan as he tore off along the hallway and ignored her question. Emma watched him go, only looked back to Graham as he rounded the corner and bounded out of sight, the Nolans cat fleeing under a nearby armchair just like she always had when they visited.

“Not intentionally,” Graham beamed, touching her elbow as he leaned forward and gave her a chaste kiss, his hand slipping down her forearm and gripping her fingers. “How was it?” He knew that she visited Liam every year and that she always had to do it alone. He just wished sometimes that she would let him in as much as the dead man.

Emma shrugged, her smile fading with the reminder. “The same. I talked, he listened,” she said sadly.

“Did you tell him everything?” Graham asked her, his features suddenly flashing with a sense of nervousness, his voice lowering slightly as he shot a glance over his shoulder. “About us?”

Emma looked up at him and slipped her hand from his. “I did,” she said solemnly and Graham offered her a weak twitch of a smile. “It won’t be long,” she promised him, flattening her hand to his cheek and rubbing her thumb over his skin there. “I promise.”

“I don’t like lying,” Graham whispered, leaning closer to her. “The Nolans are good people. I feel like a fraud.”

“You are not,” Emma told him firmly. “I am the one lying to myself, and you, and I promised, the day I found out I was pregnant, that I would never be that person again.” Despite his best efforts, Graham would never be the man Emma yearned for him to be and whilst she never regretted a single moment with him, and loved each and every memory they had made together as a family, she had vowed to never settle for enough.

She and Graham had spoken at great length about their imploding relationship and they had decided to part on good terms, share custody of Will and work at being the best parent figures they could be. They would always be there for him, in any capacity, but they also had another hurdle to leap. The Nolans. Emma’s adoptive parents loved Graham like a son and after so long they had almost adopted him as their own, so they both knew that telling them would crush them completely. They had agreed to both come home, visit family of all kinds and then tell everyone later on.

“It’s still hard, you know?” Graham told her in a hushed voice. “Pretending,” he clarified.

“I know,” she said apologetically. “But Will doesn’t know yet, and I haven’t told my parents,” Emma sighed. “I can almost hear Mamma Nolan’s voice now. “What did you do? He was a good man!” She imitated her adoptive mother’s voice so closely that Graham laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“I am a good man,” he grinned boyishly.

“Yes you are,” Emma told him firmly just like she had done a thousand times before. “It’s just…”

“I know,” Graham told her softly. “I understand, I really do. I’m just going to really miss Will, you know?”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Emma smiled reassuringly. “I would never keep him from you, you know that.”

“Thank you,” Graham just about had time to say out loud before said child came running through the house again, Papa Nolan in tow, a feather sticking from his silvery hair and a little plastic archery set in his hands dwarfed by his size.

“Indians!” Will yelled, a high pitched scream following as he tore past them and out the back door into the yard.

“Okay,” Emma laughed, watching her adoptive father sneak past them emitting his own high pitched noise and patting his palm over an open mouth. “You boys have fun!” Emma called after them.

“Are you going somewhere?” Graham frowned at her words and fiddled nervously with the belt loop of his jeans. Emma blushed a little, looking down at her feet before diving her hand into her pocket and pulling out the card. She looked at it one more time before handing it to Graham.

“This was on Liam’s grave,” she said gently. “For me.”

“Is this from him?” Graham said with a little too much resentment, the tone in his voice one he couldn’t hide. Emma had never lied to him about her past, any part of it, and she knew that one day this moment would come. They had both expected it a lot sooner. “Are you going?”

“I’ll be fine,” Emma reassured him quickly, taking the card from his hand before he set it on fire with his angry stare. She took his hand in hers and when he looked up at her she gave him a small smile. “It will be okay. He just wants to talk.”

Graham blinked at her with a twisted smirk. “How do you know that?”

“I know him,” Emma nodded firmly. “Tell Will I have gone to see Belle, okay?” She smiled quickly, checking her watch and realising that if she didn’t leave now she would be late for her impromptu meeting. When she looked back up, Graham’s face was etched with agony. “Words are all he has left. I have to go and talk to him.”

“Be careful,” Graham warned but his worries were extinguished when Emma cupped his face in her hands and kissed his cheek. “I worry.”

“Don’t.” Emma reached for the door behind her and pulled it open, mindful to be gone before Will came back through from the yard. “I’ll call Will at eight to say goodnight.”

When she reached Granny’s Diner, the hub of their hometown, far earlier than the card had invited her to meet, Killian was sitting in their usual little booth already. He was sitting browsing the menu, a fruitless task seeing as they had spent most of their teens memorizing the items word for word, but it seemed he welcomed the distraction. His leg bounced up and down under the table and he wiped at his brow, checking his watch every few seconds just in case it had decided to run slow.

He looked good from what Emma could see from the doorway, having snuck in behind another patron to avoid the ringing bell alerting him to her early presence. She felt like a stalker, watching him from the shadows of a doorside booth, staring at the back of his head as she worked up the courage to approach. He had cut his hair and shaved, leaving his trademark length of stubble that was a little more silver than she remembered now he was approaching his forties. The hair on his sideburns was more white than black now and a sparse peppering of black littering his hairline.

Emma wasn’t going to lie, he was hot. He had put on a little weight, his cheeks filled out when she saw his profile turn to check the clock above Granny’s bar area. Maybe it was the parent in her that found his new look so appealing, the classic dad style of his casual black sweater tight over his muscles making her swoon a little, or maybe it was just seeing him after five years telling her what she had always known.

Killian Jones was, and always would be, the man that made her tingle, set her skin ablaze with passion and she missed him like the deserts miss the rain. It was wrong, she knew that, but she couldn’t stop loving him, even after everything that had happened. After everything that was said, he still knew her better than she knew herself, and was the only man who could ever show her the light.

“Are you going to stare into the back of my head all night, Swan?” he called out to her over the almost deserted diner as he kept his gaze fixed on the menu in front of him. He smirked to himself when he heard her get up and make her way to him, the hot chocolate in front of him topped with cream and cinnamon. Emma slid into the booth opposite him, a fixed stare on her face as he slid the mug towards her.

Emma looked down at the beverage and reached for it instinctively. “How did you…”

“You were always early,” he interrupted her with a smirk. “I assume you still like hot chocolate with cinnamon on top?” He arched an eyebrow at her, his boyish smile sending a shiver straight to her gut.

“You look good,” Emma mentioned nonchalantly and took a sip of her cocoa, licking her lips and wiping the smudge of cream from her nose.

“So do you,” Killian smiled, ignoring the fact she had dodged his question. Maybe she didn’t want to make small talk and that was fine with him, because he just needed to hear her voice to know that she was okay, and when her cheeks flushed with pink at his words, he knew she was.

“How was work?” Emma watched him over the rim of her mug, the slightly cooled liquid level reduced enough from her sipping to be able to see him over the cream now. It was a loaded question and she knew it.

Killian took a sharp breath, not expecting her to dive straight in with the hard questions, but he gave her a genuine smile that finally felt natural. He lifted his hand and lightly scratched the skin behind his ear, a habit he had always had. “Work was good. Has been for about three years now,” he said softly, his fingers picking at the dog eared menu in front of him.

“And your colleagues?” Emma pushed, setting the mug back down in front of her. Maybe it was cruel to ask him such a question before other pleasantries but she needed to know that she hadn’t sacrificed her happiness for nothing.

Killian simply smiled and it was serene. “Gone,” he told her proudly. Killian had managed to get help and medication to quell the voices in his head and therapy had helped him understand how to deal with how he was feeling. The more he understood about why he had been on such a self destructive path, the less they said to him and the more they faded away into the background. “I’ve been off my meds for six months now. Certified as normal as can be.”

Emma coughed at a sip of her drink, almost spitting it back into the cup. “I bet you still stir your tea clockwise though,” she teased, her lips finally spreading into the kind of coy smirk he had missed so much.

“I do,” Killian blushed, his British accent somehow as prevalent as ever in those two words. His family has migrated for work, but both him and Liam has never lost the accent of their mother tongue. It had always fascinated Emma to no end how certain things that he had done whilst they were together were so quintessentially British, but above all else, the insistence that tea be stirred clockwise had sealed the notion that he was certifiably insane firmly in her mind forever.

“So normal,” she mocked once more like they had never been apart. A silence fell between them, the clinking of mugs from the washing up area not even enough of a distraction. Killian twisted his lips into a sideways pout and fiddled with the menu some more, crossing and uncrossing his legs under the table, mindful not to bump Emma’s knees. Emma looked around, taking in the decor of the diner that hadn’t changed in at least twenty years.

“Liam loved yellow chrysanths, you know,” Killian said suddenly, breaking the silence with a common ground. “He always said they reminded him of you.”

“The flowers?” Emma frowned at another of his Britishisms.

Killian chuckled lightly. “Yeah, the flowers,” he blushed.

“I bring them every year,” Emma told him, tilting her cup and noticing the mixture of melted cream and cinnamon powder lurking in the bottom. “But you know that.” She looked right at him, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug idly as she stared into the hue of his eyes. She had missed it, the darker circle around the blue that shone like the brightest sapphire when he was happy and was as dark as the depths of the ocean when he was aroused. He didn’t look away, holding her gaze unashamedly.

“I missed you the first year you came and the groundskeeper described someone who can have only been you, so the year after I came back.”

“You didn’t say anything,” Emma pried softly, prompting him to continue.

“I couldn’t,” Killian admitted shyly. “I was still such a mess, I just hid in the shadows after…” he paused, tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

“After?” Emma cocked her head to the side.

Killian let out a breath with exasperation. “Graham,” he said with a spiteful tone and Emma looked away. “I heard you talking about Graham and how happy you were and I was nowhere near mended. I couldn’t talk to you. I would have just made you regret coming back, and I would never do that to you. Liam meant as much to you as he did to me so I couldn't give you a reason to stop coming to visit him.”

“I would never…” Emma began but Killian interrupted her with a little more force than he intended.

“I would have probably said something I would have regretted, and it would have been selfish of me to put that sort of pressure on you,” he gulped, swallowing the distaste of compunction down his throat. “Again.”

“Oh, Killian,” Emma said softly, reaching across the table between them and clutching his hand in hers. He stilled at her touch, something he had missed like oxygen once it had been denied him for so long, and stared at their hands. His heart took off in his chest, banging against the curve of his ribcage and made the base of his spine tingle with delight. Emma offered him a comforting smile but he quickly tore his hand from hers.

Killian froze, palms flattened to the table in front of him as images of him assaulting Emma flickered behind his eyes. He pinched his eyes closed, his breathing becoming shallow, and tiny beads of sweat oozing from his brow. It was a panic attack, plain and simple, and he had encountered enough to know that it would pass, but he couldn’t help his bodies reaction to Emma’s touch. He felt like he didn’t deserve her compassion, in any form, and the tiniest touch had sent his body into an episode.

“Killian?” Emma asked mildly, confused by his sudden reaction. She had encountered her own fair share of attacks to know what he was going through and immediately moved around to sit at his side, shielding him from view of the other diner goers and laying her hand over his. “Killian, come back to me,” she whispered, her body pressed against his and her mouth so close to his ear that her voice was all he could hear. “Shhh, breathe.”

Her voice was faint but Killian heard her as clear as day through the fog in his mind. He felt the warmth of her hands on his, the softness of her lips against his ear and her breath on his neck, and a relief washed over him immediately, his lungs filling with cool air as he deepened his breathing the way his therapist had instructed. When he was finally able to move, Killian clutched her fingers, lacing them with his as he resumed his steadying breaths. Emma rubbed her thumb over his, watching the profile of his face as his brow relaxed and he peeled his eyes open once more.

“I’m sorry,” Killian whimpered, his body relaxing back in the seat.

“Don’t apologize,” Emma said firmly. “You are still clearly working through some things.”

“Just one,” Killian laughed nervously, the adrenaline from his attack making him shake a little. He turned to her and swallowed hard, looking down at the rip in the green leather between them. “Would you…” he began, fidgeting.

“Go on,” Emma nudged him with her elbow and he looked up at her shyly.

“Part of the...process...is asking for forgiveness,” he began, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “And I know I don’t deserve it, and I don’t want you to feel like you owe me a single thing, not after what I did to you…”

“Killian,” Emma stopped him, grabbing his forearm and flattening her palm to his cheek. He gasped at her touch again but this time he felt a warming calm flood over his entire body, the anxiety chased away by a new kind of light that he had never seen or felt before. It was heavenly.

“Hmm?” he grunted sheepishly.

“I forgive you,” Emma smiled warmly. Her thumb brushed the apple of his cheek and his lips twitched, mirroring her smile back. “I forgave you a long time ago,” she repeated, sliding her hand behind his head and pulling his head towards her until their foreheads touched. It was as intimate as they had ever been, honest and raw and Killian’s hand flew up to cup her cheek in his hand. He felt Emma relax, his anticipation of her fleeing long gone.

A single tear rolled down his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed. “Thank you,” he whispered and he meant it with all his heart.

 One Month Later

Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this. Maybe there was some divinity to the whole process, but it wasn’t just Killian who had been addicted, and when he had asked her if she wanted to go to a meeting with him, she had said yes. Graham had returned to New York, leaving Emma and Will another month at the Nolans, but tomorrow they were flying home and the thought of not being able to say goodbye because Killian had gone to a meeting was selfish. So Emma had agreed to go with him when he had suggested it, both of them knowing it was going to be some of the last moments they would spend together for a while.

The room was just like her own meetings, a church hall rented out to the organisers for a small donation that probably wouldn’t go very far. It wasn’t a sit in a circle type meeting because everyone in this one was a veteran addict, mostly around the same age who had all fallen into some sort of crisis. For some it was drugs, for most it was alcohol and as they skimmed over their introductions, Emma felt like she might have been the only person there addicted to sex.

As she had explained a thousand times before in her story that it wasn’t about the act itself. It was always about finding the numbness of climax, the light beyond the shadows, where she had felt safe and free. But as everyone in front of her nodded in agreement with her statements like a faithful congregation, she couldn’t help but feel Killian’s eyes transfixed onto her and burning into her flesh. Meetings were a place of brutal honesty and she never divulged his name, but that didn’t stop the tuts and head shakes of disgust.

If only they knew the villain of her story was sitting within their flock, a wolf amongst lambs. Emma wondered how they would have reacted to realise that their judgement was actually hypocrisy, and the very same repugnant responses to Killian’s story were about her and how she had dragged him into the light with her. She was happy now, and Killian’s smile told her he was too. But then Emma mentioned she had a son, the new light in her life, a welcomed addiction that she never wanted to quit, and the whole room smiled with her.

Except for Killian. His face paled and he shifted in his seat, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallowed almost audible. As she caught his eye, the anguish plastered across his face at the new knowledge that Graham had given her yet another thing he never could, she knew she had given him hope and then snatched it away again, but there were no secrets at these things. And it was something that she couldn’t hide anymore.

“A son?” Killian said from behind her as she wrinkled her nose at the pitiful array of donuts on offer. The coffee was bad enough, but why they insisted on plain, unsugared rings of dough was beyond her.

“Are we all addicted to sugar too?” She scoffed, poking one of the offending treats and avoiding his question entirely.

“We can’t have nice things,” Killian laughed, wrapping his fingers around the coffee cup in his hands.

“Clearly,” Emma frowned, selecting the biggest donut from the half empty box. It was cold, heavy and when she bit into it, there was no familiar crunch of sugar on her teeth or dusting on her lips, but she licked at them anyway.

“How is it?” Killian teased, sipping his coffee and trying to hide his smirk.

“You know it's disgusting,” Emma said quietly and grabbed a napkin to spit the almost undercooked dough into. It was bland, tasted like flour and water on her tongue and she had to get rid of it immediately, wiping the napkin down her tongue, balling it up in another and tossing it into the provided trash can next to the table.

“Try the coffee,” Killian suggested with a restrained chuckle. “It’s...just as bad,” he sighed.

“Thanks,” Emma retorted sarcastically.

“So, a son? Why didn’t you tell me?” Killian asked softly, his words genuinely intrigued and not laced with the anger Emma had expected. She finally looked up at him and he smiled back at her, head tilted to the side and an expectant look in his eyes.

“I didn’t know how to?” Emma asked, questioning her own words.

“I mean, I have no right to expect anything from you,” Killian clarified quickly when he sensed he had made her a little uneasy. “Least of all to wait for me.”

“You wanted me to wait for you?” Emma asked gently.

“Selfishly, yes, at first,” Killian revealed with a nod. “But then I realised that you were right. I needed to mend, we both did, and our grief for Liam was something we had to do alone.”

“Becoming a mother changed me overnight,” Emma said with a happy grin. “He’s amazing and I followed the path laid out in front of me because of him.”

Killian shifted his weight, inhaling hard and peering down into his half filled coffee cup. “Do you think…” Killian paused, eyebrows knitting together on his face. “...In another life, you would have waited?” He asked awkwardly.

Emma paused, her cheeks prickling with the heat of a blush.

“Never mind,” Killian shook his head, dismissing his words. “It’s selfish of me to ask that.”

“In another life,” Emma said firmly, sucking in a shaking breath. She reached between them, brushing her fingers over his, the most intimate they could be in a public meeting that discouraged relationships between attendees. Killian watched her fingers with a stilled breath, his entire body buzzing, his skin tightening over his bones and his mouth going dry. “Maybe in this one.”

Killian’s head snapped up to meet her gaze, the tears behind his eyes threatening to soothe the sting along his eyelids. His eyes searched hers, flickering over the leafy green hues that were accented by the crinkles in her skin at their corners from her soft smile. He didn’t know what to say, struck silent with her admission that could mean any one of a thousand things. The one he hoped for lingered on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask her for another chance, but the sobriety chip in his pocket burned into his skin through the cotton and told him he didn’t deserve her.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Emma asked gently, rousing him from his thoughts. “I know a place that serves real donuts,” she joked, shooting one last disgusted look at the flimsy white box beside her. “And coffee,” she said quickly. “Real coffee,” she hummed, almost able to taste the smoothness of citrus notes on her tongue.

Killian grinned at her, a boyish, wide open mouthed grin that was accompanied with a sound from his throat like laughter. “Alright,” he agreed, tossing his coffee into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”

The roadside diner was just outside of town, away from the familiar prying eyes they never could seem to escape by coming home. It was nice to see everyone, but sometimes they were just too invested in other people’s lives and Emma had discovered this diner as a means of escape. It was close enough that if she got called back for Will she was near but far enough out that she felt separated from the constant questions and stares. And they served donuts to die for.

It was like any other diner, like they were all set out in a generic way that made Emma think they were all owned by a single person. The countertop was black marble and even so late in the day it consistently clinked with the contact of plate after plate as orders flooded out of the kitchen. The floor was a green tile, speckled with white and with an orange pattern in the center that resembled a color blindness test card, and was polished so much Emma could see her reflection. The walls were the same shade of green and the leatherette sofas in the booths and on the bar stools matched the orange tone of the floor pattern, two huge ceiling fans whirling around above the walkway to keep the place cooled.

Spotlights lit the bar area, a constant drip of coffee from the machine next to the cash register cathartic to watch. Emma had spent many hours on one of these stools, timing the drips of coffee in her mind and awaiting a refill from the server as she contemplated her life. Graham had come into her life in a moment of great need, but he had been different from Killian, and she had warmed up to him as a friend before anything else. She tested him, made sure that she was what he wanted, and gave him the chance to escape on more than one occasion, but he had stayed, resolute and steadfast when she had tried to push him away.

“Just go. I can’t give you what you want.”

“I just want you. All of you.”

“How am I ever going to be enough? You know what I am about, what I have been through. How can you expect to love me when I can’t love you back?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

In a way, Emma regretted letting him stay. She had been nothing but honest, telling him that he was never going to be the man that she loved, and for that she was sorry. She didn’t regret their relationship, because it was built on a mutual respect, and he did love her, but it wasn’t fair that she let him carry the weight of their relationship alone. It had taken him nearly five years of never hearing her say ‘I love you’ before Graham had finally snapped, deciding that she was right and he couldn’t pretend anymore.

They hadn’t fought, not in front of Will anyway, and were separating on good terms. They had agreed that he would go home to New York ahead of her and Will, packing up his stuff and moving out of their house and their lives. They would explain things to Will another time, but they both had faith that he would be okay with it as much as they were, and they would both still love him just the same. Now that Graham was officially moved out, Emma felt like she could breathe again, a strange sensation that she hadn’t felt since leaving Killian, but one that she had missed every single day.

They sat down to order, sitting opposite each other in one of the way back booths so they could talk a bit more privately. Killian looked around the diner as they sat, taking in the photographs of local heroes and aged newspaper clippings that were framed on every available wall surface. Clearly the place saw a lot of celebrities and the owner seemed to be a little bit of a cinephile, old movie posters and signed memorabilia scattered all around the place.

“You come here a lot?” Killian asked Emma as a waitress took their order of two coffees.

“Sometimes I come here to think,” Emma shrugged, arching her back into the leather bench and letting out a groan.

It hadn’t escaped Killian’s notice that the waiting staff knew her by name and they knew how she took her coffee too. “Sometimes?” He quipped, arching his eyebrow at her.

“Okay, so I think a lot,” Emma grinned, glaring at him playfully.

“About Graham?” Killian prompted selfishly. He hated the man, his name on his tongue like a poison in his mouth, but he respected that Emma was satisfied.

“Sometimes,” she whispered noncommittally.

“Does he make you happy?” Kilian couldn't stop the words as they fell from his lips, screwing his face up and expecting an earful of abuse for his cheek. Emma looked up at him aghast and he quickly shook off the feeling of dread he had because he had to know. “It’s all I have ever wanted for you, Swan.”

“He did,” Emma stared into his eyes, readying herself for her confession. “We are seperated.” Killian frowned, confusion etched across his face. He knew she had come to their hometown with Graham, but it did explain how she had managed to get away to meet with him so often in the last eight weeks. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sorry,” he lied.

“Liar,” Emma smirked. “It’s okay, really. You know you have to be happy to move on, and I was for a time. Now I am not. It’s really that simple.” Emma shrugged a sigh and brushed a stray hair from her face, letting the rest tumble over her shoulders. She had decided to wear her hair down for the meeting, maybe subconsciously because she knew Killian had always liked it that way, which was confirmed when his eye flickered to watch her hand toy with the golden tresses.

“As long as you are okay,” he smiled warmly. “So why New York?” Killian asked her, changing the subject to something he had always wondered. New York wasn’t a million miles away, so he knew she wasn’t running away from anything, and it always left the door open for him to visit, something he had resisted for so long.

“Who said I lived in New York?” Emma narrowed her gaze at him, wondering if she had inadvertently mentioned something in the meeting. She didn’t remember telling him, or even letting it slip over Liam’s grave, but then she was hit with a realisation that made her sigh and Killian laugh.

“Will,” she said with a groan.

“Will fucking Scarlett,” Killian said with a nod. “Can’t keep his mouth shut that lad. Never could,” he laughed.

“And what were you doing in Will’s bar, huh?” Emma accused, thanking the small, blonde haired waitress who had poured their coffees.

“Drinking water,” Killian told her with a knowing look. “Which is boring, by the way.”

Emma giggled, reaching for her mug. The coffee was boiling hot, the ceramic burning her fingers as she pulled it towards her without a visible wince of pain. “But I bet your breath smells fresher,” she mocked.

“Indeed,” Killian blushed a little, lifting his coffee to his lips.

“New York was just somewhere I could be nobody for a while,” Emma admitted. “I needed to heal as much as you but I suppose, if I am being honest with myself, I didn’t want to move too far away. I couldn’t...” She looked down into her lap. Honesty was the best policy, or so they said. “I needed to still be close to you.”

She looked up at her admission and Killian felt the pang of guilt in his heart. “Because of...you know?” He asked gently, not wanting to mention her dependency too much. It was good to talk about things, they had both learned that the hard way, but old wounds didn’t need to be reopened unnecessarily. Emma was an addict too, and he was her drug of choice. She nodded sadly. “And now?” He pushed, watching her shift in the seat.

“Now I just…” Emma lost her words, sitting forward in the booth and pushing her arms across the table until their fingers were almost touching. She could swear there were sparks between them when Killian didn’t move away but instead mirrored her movements and sat forward in his own seat, the leather groaning under his weight.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” Killian finished for her, reading her mind and almost whispering the words. He pushed his coffee mug aside with the back of his hand and reached for hers, sliding it out of their way. He bunched her hands up in his, lifting them to his lips and planting a soft kiss to the back of her knuckles, letting his lips linger as he inhaled her scent.

“I shouldn’t,” Emma told herself out loud but her words didn’t match her actions when she kept her hands exactly where they were, savouring the feel of his mouth of her skin after so long. She felt a tickle in her stomach, the dropping sensation followed by a welcome feeling of delight that was so familiar and yet different. It wasn’t like before, when they were both slaves to each other’s mercy.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” Killian began, but as he tried to pull his hands away, Emma stopped him, fingernails digging into his flesh that made him stare in her direction dumbfounded. Her face had changed, softness appearing around her eyes as the barriers she was holding up melted away and there was something else behind her eyes that he had never seen before. It was understanding and unselfishness and before he had time to ask her what it meant, Emma was pushing herself to her feet, grabbing his soft, woolen sweater and pulling him to her across the wooden surface of the table.

Her lips crashed into his and Killian’s mind exploded, eyebrows jumping up his face with surprise and his entire body paralyzed to respond. She paused, her lips on his, waiting for him to react, the grip loosening on the material of his sweater when she thought he wouldn’t, but when she heard the soft moan come from way down deep in his chest, she smirked coyly against his mouth and slid her tongue over his lips as they parted.

“Come to New York,” she whispered, their noses pressed side by side, her hand jumping to trace the silver of his sideburn with a single finger. Her eyes fluttered open and met his, the longing reflected in both of their stares.

There was nothing Killian could do but nod, a steady bob of his head that earned him another chaste kiss. Emma knew it wouldn’t be easy, they would have to contend with a long distance thing for a while, but she had faith they could make it work. There was just one more tiny detail she had to iron out, but that would have to wait until she was home.

[szopenhauer]

Have you ever tried to walk on a moving vehicle and fallen over?: I didn’t fall When was the last time you were a passenger in a car and sat in the back?: I always sit in the back

What is the longest your hair has ever been?: to my butt Who does the grocery shopping in your household?: we all do but me and dad most often What is the best thing you’ve ever bought at a thrift shop?: I bought so many things! Have you ever been pulled aside by security at the airport?: not applicable Do you watch The Simpsons regularly?: I don’t but I like this show anyway :) Did you ever go to summer camp when you were younger?: twice Do you know anyone who is fluent in a second tongue?: me Have you ever been pressured into doing drugs? Did you say yes or no?: I said no

When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard? had a swing Do you burn incense? I heard it causes cancer :(

Does being in love make you nervous? yep Have you ever been so quiet that nobody noticed that you were there? from what I remember Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? yeah Do you stay home when you are sick or do you still go out? stay home What’s your relationship with the person you last texted? we’re datinh Have you had more than 3 gfs at the same time? nooo Are you in a good mood right now? sigh... Have you kissed someone with braces? I have XD Who’s your favorite redhead? real, celeb or character?

How do you feel about being in the house alone? cool When was the last time you burnt your mouth from eating something too hot? it happens often as I don’t feel it being hot most of the time :( Do you prefer instrumental songs or ones with lyrics? lyrics Do you have any old friends who you still kinda speak to but it’s awkward? sigh...  When was the last time you used a quote from a movie in real life? today? Do you forget things easily? depends/some

Would/Do you like having brown eyes? maybe Do you spend a lot of time on the internet? too much Have you bought anyone a Christmas gift? not yet

What is one of your favorite compliments to recieve? compliments are awkward :x Do you compliment other random people? rarely What do you use Facebook for? texting mostly Do you love cartoons? some are nice Do you paint your own nails? I did

Describe your style in one word. comfy Describe your current personality in one or two words. complicated Are you afraid of child birth/pregnancy? it’s one of the reasons why I don’t want any kids What are you favorite bottoms to wear? leggings or pajama pants Do you like dresses? not really Do you eat cake with a spoon or a fork? tiny fork but spoon is fine as well What is your favorite sex position? ;) I'm not a fan of sex What color will you paint your nails next? black if any Are you afraid of ghosts/hauntings? kinda What is your favorite game to play with family/friends? board games and/or car racing games with dad What is your beer of choice? I don’t drink beer Do you like glitter? could say so Have you ever owned a Ouija board? hell no Do you like to text? it seems If you had to be an animal for Halloween, what would it be? bat, cat or wolf (eventually a raccoon but it’s not a Halloween related animal) Do you have more dry skin or oily skin? mixed

Name something that starts with the first letter of your first name. zoo Name something that starts with the first letter of your middle name? - And your lastname. chicken Would you spend 20 dollars on a candle? no way What is the goriest thing you’ve seen in real life? hmm... Twilight or Harry Potter? HP Would you rather be a vampire or a mermaid? vampire P.E or Math? Math or Science? dunno What do you do when someone is really rude to you in public? hard to tell Do you argue with your significant other a lot? we don’t argue  Have you ever had a really painful breakup? they were painful to me What do you like to write with? my hands lmfao Do you prefer to be pale or tan? Don’t say in between. pale What is your favorite thing about Christmas? decorations and gifts but also spending time with my parents Do you prefer white or black electronics? black A stranger comes up to you and gives you a big hug, what do you do? :o Do your eyes tear up when you’re nervous? might Apples or Bananas? apples Water or Milk? water Would you milk a cow given the chance? it’s weird Where do you shop for your underwear? I don’t have a fav place to do that

Do you feel more comfortable sleeping in your own bed or in a hotel bed? my own 

Do you prefer to travel by plane, car, or boat? car

Who is your favorite travel buddy? dad

What’s the best souvenir you have ever purchased? can’t choose

What’s your favorite book to read during a long ride? I don’t read while travelling

What’s the most entertaining story you have about getting lost? me and my father been talking so loud that someone on the street just stopped by and told us where the place we’re looking for is ^^”

What was the most expensive trip you have ever taken? ask my family

Which songs are on your travel playlist? whatever

Which travel blogs do you follow? none

Do you complain when you are bored, or look for something to do? I’m never bored so I don’t complain about it

Do other people’s complaints ever get on your nerves? some/depends

How did you develop your specific taste in music? can’t explain that 

If you drink coffee, how do you like it (with cream, black, etc)? I don’t drink coffee

Did your parents sign you up for things like piano lessons and ballet? no and now I’m a loser

What is your favorite children’s song? Kokoszeczka

Are you good at telling jokes? I am

Other than gas, what do you frequently purchase at a gas station? I don’t purchase anything there

Ten years ago, did you think that this was how the world would turn out? ...

Ever think you might be better off living in a different time period? yup

Do you walk regularly? not regularly but often

If you could have the answer to one question, what question would that be? personal

Do you like any bands from other countries? obvi, most of those I like aren’t from Poland, I don’t like polish music 

When was the last time you mailed a handwritten letter? years ago

Do you still receive Christmas cards? my mom does

Do you know anyone who is really hard to please? sadly

What gets you through the day? I wonder myself

If you found out your bf/gf was homosexual, how would you react? I know she is - elseway we wouldn’t date (ok, she could be bi, I know)

If you are homosexual, and you find out your bf/gf is straight, then what? we break up 

Have you ever sung karaoke? What songs? Was it fun? it was Ich troje song *embarassed*

Have you called anyone today? What did you talk about? not today

Do you drive around the neighborhood to look at lights around Xmas? I like to look but I don’t ride around just for that

Why are so many single people bitter on Valentine’s Day? because they’re lonely and because this day is fake 

What is one tradition you hate participating in? personal

Have you made a fool of yourself today? probably

When was the last time you did something for someone else? recently

Do you let other people choose the radio stations in your car? but I don’t have a car 

Would you say that you are an accepting and openminded person? am not

Have you ever been convinced to try something you didn’t want to do? I have been

When was the last time you cheated–at anything? last time I used motherlode in The sims 4 game?

When you are mad at someone, how do you show them? depends

When was the last time you felt you had a reality check? blergh

Have you ever felt out of touch with reality? dissociation, derealisation, depersonalisation etc.

Have you ever had a tooth pulled? not since I was a kid

How long do you you usually chew a stick of gum? didn’t check the timing

Was there any teacher that made life living hell for you? it wasn’t THAT bad but it wasn’t good 

How about any student(s)? I’ve been bullied if it’s what you’re asking me about - still could be much worse

When was the last time you felt overwhelmed? 24/7

Do you have any coffee mugs with funny pictures/sayings? Did I just rolled my eyes out loud 

Describe something strange that you own? where should I start...

Do you think graffiti is a valid form of artistic expression? I don’t approve of it when it vandalizes property

Are you afraid to walk places at night if you are alone? I’m a petite woman so...

What do you think of people who are shy? hard to keep contact with them

Have you ever gone through a time when you had no friends? How did you deal with it? not counting my family - last several years - I was ok with it as I’m a loner, homebody, introvert

What is something that shouldn’t bother you, but does anyway? fuck off!

Has any food ever made you sick to the point where you’d be afraid to try it again? that happened more than once already

Can you hear traffic right now? I don’t hear anything :3

Have you taken a painkiller today? no

Have you had a nap today? neither

Are you currently in a relationship? If so, do you think it will last? don’t feed my paranoia...

Do you have a hyphenate name or know anyone with one? (eg. Carter-Brown) my sister

Do you take your Christmas decorations down before or after New Years? after

Have you made a large purchase today? I didn’t buy anything today, it’s Sunday

Have you ever used a leaf blower? we don’t own one, we’re not rich

You see someone running around naked in the street. Your reaction? if it’s neighbor’s kid that’s no surprise

Has someone close to you died of murder? no one close to me but still a family member of some sort

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? done

Do you abbreviate when you text? that’s lazy of me, I know

Is anyone in the room on the phone right now? I’m playing a game

[patricianandclerk]

H.R. (Part 1)

The year was 1990.

The angel Aziraphale[1] was drunk. It was not that he was often drunk. He was not. However, the occasions wherein he approached a bottle of anything nice – or, as was the case tonight, anything dreadful – were those when he spent his time in the company of the demon, Crowley[2]. Being drunk was a rather occasional affair, one that the two of them embarked on together, on either ill tidings or extremely healthy ones…

Aziraphale was nowhere near Crowley, now.

(Crowley, as it happened, was in his London flat many streets away, squinting over a spot-the-difference puzzle in a puzzle magazine he’d stolen from a copper on his tea break that morning[3], and occasionally laughing at the Golden Girls as it played on his television.)

Aziraphale was alone, standing in the little entrance hall outside of one of his favourite clubs, the Hyacinth and Vine. On the other side of the heavy doors, he could distantly hear some song playing from a cassette tape, some Queen song he had heard countless times from the Blaupunkt in Crowley’s car.

He brought his glass, mercifully cool, to his head, and held it against the red, burning skin, closing his eyes shut. He felt very red all over, and very drunk, and very miserable.

This was the sixth wake he’d been to in two months.

There were so many of them. How many more would there be?

It merely felt so… senseless, and senseless it was, and senseless it would continue to be, and he felt so utterly hopeless in the face of it all. Seeing all these poor young things perish so dreadfully, and if that wasn’t bad enough—

The young man’s girlfriend, she’d spoken so eloquently, even with her voice thick and hoarse from crying. “People like us, we have to fight for the love we get, and Pat fought for every minute of his, every minute we could spend together. You can’t let these things pass you by, he used to say. No point being scared. You just have to love as much as you can, when you can, and he did, and for that I’m— I’m so glad.”

“Mr Fell?” asked Robert, the club’s proprietor, pushing the door open, and Aziraphale turned to look at him. He was aware that his eyes were wet, and Robert exhaled to look at him, reaching out and gently brushing his shoulder. “You alright?”

“No, dear,” Aziraphale murmured, aware of how clumsy his tongue was in his mouth with the drink. “Not really. I don’t suppose you’d be so good as to call me a cab?”

“Yes, Mr Fell,” Robert said softly, nodding his head, and dipped back inside.

Aziraphale drained his glass. It was a good deal fuller than it really ought have been, certainly fuller than it was when he took a moment outside the doors.

Perhaps that was why, when he fell into the back of the black cab, he gave completely the wrong address.

--

Crowley glanced up when the extremely annoying and high-tech theme of his doorbell[4] interrupted him, and he snapped his fingers, pausing the Blanche mid-speech. The fact that pausing live television wasn’t yet an option to wider society did not occur to him: if he could pause a video cassette with a snap of his fingers, it followed on that he could pause anything else, and so he did.

It was a funny time to be calling – nearly eleven at night.

Hastur didn’t know how to use a doorbell, and Ligur wasn’t even in the habit of knocking, so he knew it wasn’t one of them; Dagon was uncomfortable with any location that wasn’t at least a little damp, and had never stepped foot in Crowley’s flat block; Beelzebub never visited.

He hadn’t ordered anything, but then, maybe someone had given a delivery boy the wrong address?

Hm.

Sliding from the sofa, he moved toward the door, drawing it open in one smooth movement. In one far less smooth movement, Aziraphale fell into his arms, and began sobbing against his breast.

“Ah,” Crowley said, and kicked the door closed.

--

Let us survey the scene.

Aziraphale was sitting at one end of Crowley’s extremely sleek, extremely expensive, extremely leather, sofa. It was black and white, and looked as if it belonged in a very modern museum, but it was actually surprisingly comfortable. From the back of one of his hidden storage spaces[5], Crowley had drawn out an extremely thick and fleecy black blankets, which he had wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders, and was slowly turning tartan. There was a mug of steaming cocoa in Aziraphale’s hands, which had been dreadful, made as it was from Crowley’s extremely rich, dark, real cocoa; in Aziraphale’s hands, it had become more sugar than anything else, and was rather nice.

Crowley was sitting on the other end of the sofa, his knees drawn up to his chest. He was barefoot, in silken red pyjamas that rather plunged at the neckline until it became more of a navel border, for whatever ocean battles you liked, and Aziraphale, drunk and rather out of himself, was having to be very careful not to allow himself to spend too much time looking at the thatch of chest hair Crowley had decorated his body with.

Aziraphale sniffled.

Crowley watched him warily.

“Er,” he said, stuntedly, “you’ve never actually been to my flat before.”

“I knew the address,” Aziraphale mumbled, and looked about Crowley’s living room, which was made of rather foreboding grey marble on every side, and had a rail of red and gold curtains against the broad windows, which showed a marvellous view of the London skyline on the other side of the Thames.

“And you were crying,” Crowley said.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “I know.”

“Er,” Crowley said, rather lacking the script for this situation. “Why?”

“You needn’t sit so far away, you know,” Aziraphale said, staring down at his own hands where they gripped the cocoa mug. “I’ve not anything contagious.”

Crowley stared at the angel, feeling the old thread of distant bitterness, mixed up with aching want, make itself known. “Do you want me to get closer?” he asked, his voice sounding less superior and cold, and more brittle and fragile. You go too fast for me, Crowley. The words echoed in his mouth, all but tangible in the air, but Aziraphale didn’t seem to hear the constant repetition of them like Crowley did.

He didn’t look up from his cocoa as he said, in a miserable way that evoked a pang from Crowley’s heart, “Yes, please.”

Crowley inched closer. His sofa had never seemed quite so long when he bought it, but now it seemed longer than ever, and his movements up the seat of it felt infinitesimal, barely bringing him closer to the angel… Until he was close, until he was close enough almost to touch, and Aziraphale turned his head to look at him. He sipped at his cocoa.

“It was Pat Mullarkey’s wake,” Aziraphale mumbled.

Understanding dawned, and Crowley bit the inside of his lip. “Another one?” he asked. It was only February. How many did that make, this year…?

“He was thirty-nine,” Aziraphale said, and he exhaled hard, feeling the threat to cry make itself known again. “Oh, Crowley, I barely even knew the boy. Just that— You know, I’m in the Hyacinth and Vine once or twice a week, and he came into the shop once or twice… I recommended he read Maurice, you know, and he came back in with a cake he’d baked for me. Isn’t that so lovely? He was so— He was so happy with the book that he…”

Aziraphale trailed off.

Crowley knew what Aziraphale was like, in Soho. He knew he went into various little clubs, that he’d saved a few of them from getting raided, when that was a concern, that he had his favourites… That he kept a big section of Gay and Lesbian books in his shop, always, always, had done since long before that had been what the section was called.

“He said it was so important, you know,” Aziraphale murmured. “To think that people like us could have happy endings.”

“He have people that loved him?” Crowley asked. He watched the tightness in Aziraphale’s face, the way his fingers gripped the mug, and swallowed.

“His family—” Aziraphale started.

“Don’t care about them,” Crowley said. “He have people that loved him? Full wake? Lots of people talking about how much they loved him, and how much he loved them?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said haltingly.

“S’all that matters, angel,” Crowley murmured, softly, comfortingly. It… it made sense, he supposed, that Aziraphale would like those humans. It made sense, when they felt like outsiders, when they had secrets from their families, when… It wasn’t the same. But Crowley understood why one would be comforted, and he ached to comfort Aziraphale himself, to reach out, to touch him…

“I’m very drunk, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, and he put his cocoa mug down rather more heavily than he meant to on the coffee table, watching it slosh slightly – although it didn’t dare slosh enough to drip onto the table.

“That’s alright,” Crowley said. “You’ll sober up eventually.”

Aziraphale inhaled.

How much longer? Every moment he spent with Crowley, every minute, he felt the space between them like a canyon, like it was some impassable distance between them, and yet Crowley was so close, within his hand’s reach, so easily… Aziraphale looked down at Crowley’s foot, scarcely a few inches from Aziraphale’s blanket-clad thigh, at the shine of black scales on its sole, tantalisingly within reach; at Crowley’s ankle, thin and shapely, ever the envy of every man he passed when shapely ankles were of a man’s concern; a smidgen of his pale calf, visible beneath the silk shift of his pyjamas.

“I’m so frightened, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly. “I don’t— I don’t want to Fall.”

“You won’t Fall,” Crowley said, alarmed. “Angel, no, you won’t—”

Aziraphale touched Crowley’s ankle, wrapping his hand loosely around it, and he felt the cool, pale skin beneath his palm. It was so much more intimate, he realised, his cheeks hot with a burning flush, that merely brushing shoulders or touching hands in the course of a conversation, merely by virtue of the touch being deliberate, of the fact that he was reaching out, to touch him, to touch him—

“Angel.”

“Please. Come— Come closer. I shan’t bite.”

“I might.”

“Oh, don’t,” Aziraphale said, detesting the whine in his voice, “please, Crowley, please—”

“I won’t,” Crowley said. “Not when you’re going to shove me off in a second. I won’t, angel, I won’t come close just so you can push me back again, and you’re drunk—”

“I won’t,” Aziraphale promised, aware of the way he was begging, of the desperate ache that thickened in his own voice, “please, Crowley, I cannot bear the dearth between us, I have felt the pain of it for so long, and I cannot thrust you back from me anymore, please—” Aziraphale had thrown open the blanket, asking with his body as much as his slurred words, fear thudding in his veins, but Crowley crawled closer in tiny little increments, as if he feared he might burst into flames.

He didn’t.

He came until his knees were laid in Aziraphale’s lap, awkwardly crouched upon his scaly feet against Aziraphale’s side, and Aziraphale threw the great blanket about him, his arm wrapping tightly around Crowley’s waist and pulling him closer.

“Oh,” he whispered against Crowley’s breast, which wasn’t cool, as his ankles were, but was warm. He could smell Crowley’s cologne, could smell the floral shampoo he used in his hair, and he felt the silk of Crowley’s pyjamas under his fingers, and then, oh, oh, Crowley’s arm wrapped about his head, his fingers curling in Aziraphale’s hair… “Oh, Crowley…”

“Angel,” Crowley whispered against his forehead, and Aziraphale felt him bury his nose in Aziraphale’s hair, pressing against it, felt Crowley clutching at him as if he might well drown without him. Aziraphale, drunk, felt as if the world was swaying about them, so maybe Crowley was right, maybe they would drown if they weren’t holding one another, just like this—

Crowley leaned down, and he pressed their faces together, and Aziraphale gasped, expecting a kiss, but it didn’t come: Crowley clutched at his cheeks, cupping them in his surprisingly soft hands, and his nose rubbed against Aziraphale’s, their noses tip to tip.

“Sober up,” Crowley whispered.

The fear lurched within him like a wave. “Can’t,” he mumbled. “Can’t, Crowley, can’t—”

“Sober up,” Crowley growled, and the wine evaporated out of Aziraphale’s veins with an uncomfortable wrench to his dulled emotion. Aziraphale shuddered, his fingers gripping all the tighter at Crowley’s back and at the side of his thigh (when had his hand got there?), and he exhaled, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

He felt…

He felt everything now.

He felt the weight of Crowley’s body, half in his lap and half leaned against his chest; he felt the shimmer of Crowley’s pyjamas and remembered when he’d actually bought them, in a shop in Manchester a few years ago, and had threatened to get a matching pair for Aziraphale as he’d giggled and said red silk wasn’t his style; he was aware of Crowley’s breath against his mouth, slightly sweet-smelling and of soft exhalations.

“See?” Crowley asked, his fingers touching through Aziraphale’s hair, and oh, it felt so lovely, so delicate, so intimate, like when the hairdresser washed his hair but so much sweeter, so much more full of love, why had nobody ever touched him like this before…? “You’re not Falling, sweetheart,” sweetheart! Sweetheart! Oh, his heart would burst, “I got you, I have you.”

“I won’t push you away,” Aziraphale whispered. “I want— Oh, I just want this, Crowley.”

“I want everything,” Crowley replied, feeling like he’d shatter. Aziraphale’s body was everything he’d ever imagined, and he’d imagined it a lot: plush and warm and soft and just yielding enough that Crowley could wrap right around him if he wanted to… “But this is enough.”

“You could,” Aziraphale said, and his tongue quivered in its bed, his eyes remaining tightly closed: the terror gripped him like some tight, iron manacles, but he ached, oh, he ached and he yearned and he wanted, and they were touching, now, they were touching, and he had wanted so long for this love, for Crowley’s love, to accept it, to give it in turn, to have… “You could kiss me. If you wanted. I—”

Crowley’s mouth was on his, and Aziraphale could hear the noise he was making, a desperate little keen of noise in his throat, like he could scarcely believe what was happening. Aziraphale gasped against his lips, and he squeezed Crowley tighter, letting Crowley’s lips move against his own, and oh, oh, he could move his own, just— Just so—

Six thousand years.

Six thousand years…

“Aziraphale?” came a voice from behind Crowley, and Aziraphale felt as if he had been plunged into horror itself when he beheld, in the midst of Crowley’s minimalist décor, the archangels Michael and Uriel, standing stock-still and staring at the scene before them.

"I can explain," Aziraphale choked out, and when Crowley moved to scramble from his lap, his hands acted purely on instinct, and clutched the demon all the tighter.

[1] Aziraphale, a.k.a. Mr A.Z. Fell, Principality of the Eastern Gate, bookseller, and often-patron of certain gentlemen’s clubs in the London vicinity.

[2] Crowley, a.k.a. Mr A.J. Crowley, Tempter of Eve in Eden, businessman of vague description, flash bastard extraordinaire.

[3] And the bastard had looked very bored for his fifteen minutes, too, especially since Crowley had ensured his tea order had been wrong and that his scone had been stale. And his radio had conked out, too.

[4] It played a different James Bond theme for every day of the week, and was the absolute horror of his neighbours, as the sound carried for two storeys in each direction, and echoed loudly in the corridor of his flat block.

[5] Crowley liked to appear rich and exclusive, and the best way to appear rich was by seeming not to own anything at all.

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[ambssssssssss]

Someday

Part 1/2

Ship: Skimmons/BioQuake

Summary: A freak accident puts Skye on Shield's radar earlier than expected. With nowhere else to go and nothing to lose, Skye agrees to attend Shield Academy. There she finds friends and a purpose, and Jemma Simmons, her roommate that Skye finds herself falling for. By the end of her first year at Shield Academy, Skye finds herself wishing that someday would be today. 

Also up on AO3

Skye shivered slightly in the borrowed clothes she wore, cupping the warm cup of coffee she had been given in both hands. She tries to keep herself from touching the cold metal of the table she sit at and instead chooses to hold her cup up closer near her chest. The position allows Skye to focus on the steam rising from the coffee rather than the flickering, too bright light that hands above her. She almost feels like laughing; her situation is so remarkably similar to the old cop shows her last foster family had been so fond of. When the door opens, Skye half expects a grey-haired man with a fedora and a half-smoked cigar hanging from his lips to walk in. Instead, a woman enters with long dark hair haunted, dark eyes.

The woman silently takes her place in the seat opposite Skye, her expression impassive and unreadable. Skye meets the woman’s eyes and quickly looks away, fidgeting with the towel wrapped around her shoulders that she had been using to keep her borrowed clothes dry since her wet hair had been dripping when she arrived there. Without anything else to do – and unable to hold eye contact with the stern looking woman – Skye raised her cup of coffee to her lips and took a long drink. The liquid is still hot enough to burn her tongue, but Skye does her best not to react and drains the cup. She places the now empty cup on the table and folded her hands together in her lap so the other woman can’t see them fidgeting.

“More coffee?” The woman asks after an uncomfortably long stretch of silence. Skye shakes her head and picks at her cuticles. “Do you know you’re here?’

“Under arrest, I guess,” Skye answers without looking up from her hands. “Isn’t that what normally happens in these situations?”

“How often do you think something like this happens?” There’s a hint of something in the woman’s voice, an underlying, almost teasing quality that makes her seem more human.

Skye thinks about how she ended up in this position. She remembers walking into the apartment building she lived in, doing her best to avoid the landlord since she was already three months behind on her rent. She remembers being in a sort of daze, thinking of the information she had uncovered. Skye had been itching to look into her past long before she aged out of the foster system and had finally been able to hack into her records, only to find them heavily redacted by a government agency she had never heard of. Skye didn’t learn anything that she hadn’t already known. She had been angry and confused with no idea how to move forward. Then the building started shaking around her. A few seconds later and the apartments had collapsed in a spectacular, muddy mess as the pipes burst and bricks crumpled. When the dust had cleared, Skye stood alone in the center of destruction completely unharmed except for a trickle of blood running from her nose. The other residents hadn’t been so lucky.

“Not very, I guess.” Skye tried to shake of the memory of her neighbors moaning in pain and focus back on the place she was then. The woman’s next question didn’t help that at all.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?”

“The building collapsed.” Skye mumbled. “I know you want to know how but I don’t know. Everything was fine one second and in pieces the next.”

“Except everything wasn’t fine, was it?” Skye doesn’t think she likes the knowing glint in the other woman’s eye. “Not when you’re behind on rent and highly emotional after learning some disturbing news.”

“I didn’t do this.” Skye says, an uncomfortable weight settling in her stomach at the veiled accusation.

“Maybe not on purpose,” the woman concedes lightly, “but how else would you be the only one uninjured?”

“Luck?”

“You don’t believe that, do you Skye?” The woman quirked one eyebrow, looking for a reaction from Skye at the use of her name.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Agent Melinda May. I work for the Strategic Homeland Intervention and Logistics Division.”

“Never heard of it.” Skye said. Agent May shook her head.

“You have, recently at that. Looking through encrypted files.” Agent May left no room for argument and Skye knew she was busted. Looks like her promised invisible backdoor had been visible after all.

“What do you want from me?”

“We want you to join us.” Agent May says simply.

“Right,” Skye drawls sarcastically, stretching out the last syllable.

“I’m serious, Skye.” Agent May remains completely straight faced as she continues speaking. “We need someone with your attributes.”

“What attributes? The ability to knock down a building?” Skye scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest with a disbelieving huff. May remains silent, watching Skye with a critical eye. A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed before Skye speaks again. “What do you want from me?”

“We want you to train up, but your skills to use.” Skye watches as Agent May leans forward in her seat, resting her forearms on the table. “I know you’re scared and confused. You want answers. We can help you get them, give you a home and purpose while we’re at it. What have you got to lose?”

Nothing. Skye didn’t have anything to lose. No family, no home, nothing but a beat-up backpack and a few sets of clothes. And here was the people she had been looking for answers from, willing to give them to her. For a price, sure, but Skye already had nothing to her name. There wasn’t anything else they could take from her.

“Okay,” Skye agrees after a few minutes of consideration during which Agent May had waited patiently. “I’ll come with you. I’ll train.” Agent May nods like she had expected no other answer. Rising from her seat, May pauses when Skye calls her name. “Why me?”

It’s easy enough for May to read between the lines of Skye’s question. Why choose and orphan with a less than stellar record? Why keep those files a secret? Why choose Skye when there were a million other more qualified people?

“You’ve got potential.” Is all May says before leaving the room with a promise to get Skye a place to sleep for the night. Skye feels lighter somehow, the smallest blossom of her rising in her chest.

~

 Joining a government agency requires far more paperwork than Skye expected, which was really something as Skye had expected quite a bit of paperwork in the first place. By the time she finishes with the plethora of legal documents, disclosures and medical forms required, Skye would be happy to never see a pen again. They do have one slight hiccup when it comes to Skye’s name, the issue being that Skye isn’t her legal name. Since she refuses to go by anything other than Skye, another form is required to legally change her name. A little more paperwork later and Shield Academy of Operations gains another cadet by the name of Skye Johnson.

A week later, outfitted with a few new items of clothing and the standard issue supplies given to all first-year academy students, Skye begins the process of moving in to her new dorm. It doesn’t take long for Skye to unpack her meager belongings and she finishes long before the other new students, before her new roommate even arrives. Absent any bedding or toiletries, since all of hers had been destroyed when the building collapses, and with a little bit of money saved up from trying to get together several months’ worth of rent at once, Skye decides to catch a bus to the nearest town.

She picks up a couple of black and grey bedding sets, along with a few good pillows and soft plush blanket that had been too nice to resist before moving to the toiletry section and stocking up there as well. Skye also decides to get an alarm clock and a few other general school supplies, along with a set of luggage that comes with a large duffle bag and a good-sized backpack. Finally, after passing on a leather jacket and grabbing a simple hoodie instead, and a set of shower shoes and some good towels, Skye makes her way to the bus stop and heads back to the academy.

The halls are slightly less crowded when she returns. The parents had all left but the students are milling about in the halls, with most of the dorm room doors open. The door to Skye’s own room is one of the ones open so she makes her way there and steps inside, setting her bags down near her bed before going back and pushing the door closed. As she makes her way back to her bed to finish unpacking, Skye notices the new additions to the room that seem to be courtesy of her new roommate. They mostly consist of a few inspirational posters, a pastel bedspread, and a full periodic table hanging above the bed.

“Oh hello,” Skye turns towards the sound of the accented voice coming from the doorway to the bathroom. “I wondered where you had gone off to. For a moment, I worried that I wouldn’t have a roommate but then I noticed you had your desk set up to I thought you must have stepped out for a moment. I do hope you don’t mind the posters I’ve hung up. I always find their sayings so encouraging.”

“No, they’re fine,” Skye says when her new roomie pauses to take a breath after her babble. “I don’t mind them.”

“Oh wonderful,” the girls offers Skye a smile, one that Skye returns bemusedly.

“I’m Skye,” she says when it becomes apparent that the other girl isn’t going to begin introductions. “Skye Johnson.” She hopes the British girl doesn’t hear the awkward way her new last name falls from her lips.

“Jemma Simmons,” comes the reply as her roommate approaches Skye for a handshake. “I think this is going to be just fantastic, don’t you?”

Skye takes a moment to study Jemma, taking in her pressed cardigan and sensible shoes. She reminds Skye of one of the kids she had met in a foster home as a kid, a piano prodigy that Skye had thought was stuck up and spoiled when they met. Somehow, she didn’t think Jemma would be the same as that kid. Skye offers a half-smile, not quite sure what to make of the girl she’ll be living with for the next eight months. “I hope it is.”

Jemma smiles in return before letting go of Skye’s hand and heading back to finish whatever she had been doing in the bathroom before Skye arrived. She finishes the task quickly, hanging a new shower curtain apparently, and then helps Skye finish getting her bed set up. Jemma keeps up a running commentary as she and Skye fix up their room, talking about her flight from England and the classes she’s enrolled in, what she expects to get out of them. By the time they are done, Skye has learned that Jemma is enrolled of the Academy of Science and Technology, that Jemma already has two doctorates and that her favorite color is teal.

As they each settle into their own beds, Skye tries not to feel horribly outclassed when she admits that she never finished high school. There’s a slight pause in the conversation after the admission before Jemma moves right along with tangent about the merits and various meanings of the color purple, Skye’s favorite color. Finally, Skye reminds Jemma that they have an early start in the morning and they turn the lights off. The bed isn’t the most comfortable that Skye had ever slept on, but it wasn’t the worst either.

“I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends, you and I,” is the last thing Skye hears and she mumbled in agreement as her eyes fall closed.

The atmosphere at Shield Academy was unlike anything that Skye had ever known. The campus was filled with the greatest minds in her generation, doctors and engineers, chemists and biologist, and Jemma and Fitz who were somehow a combination of all four of those, plus the most athletic, strategic, and in some cases scariest people she’s ever met. The best part is, the majority of these people are like her, in that awkward stage between adolescence and adulthood in which the world expects them to have their life figured out and they barely know how to make toast. The result is an amusing mix of seriousness and light-heartedness, at least in the freshmen on campus, which lead to what was apparently a Shield tradition: prank wars. The prank war lasted for a full week and only ended after every new cadet had been pranked at least once. Jemma and Skye received one of the lighter pranks, Fitz and his roommate Mack snuck into their door and switched Jemma’s cardigans with t-shirts that had ridiculous sayings, and Skye’s flannels and jeans with horrendous Christmas sweaters. The girls retaliated by wrapping everything the boys owned in the brightest neon pink paper they could find. The four friends laughed about the incident, both Jemma and Skye keeping the new additions to their wardrobes.

Shield Academy’s hazing ritual over with, Skye settled into her first somewhat normal routine. She’d never had much of a routine to fall into, always bouncing from house to house, orphanage to orphanage. At St. Agnes, Skye had purposely rebelled against any sort of normalization the nuns tried to impose on her, enough so that they eventually left her to her own devices. At Shield, Skye had to adapt to the routine or perish, or fail out, both of which she refused to do. Her mornings started early with mandatory cardio and endurance training which translated to running laps until she puked and then running a few more after the fact. After that was time for a quick shower and breakfast, which she normally enjoyed with Jemma before they each separated for their own classes. The classes Skye took were vastly different from what her old high school counselor said they would be before Skye had dropped out of school. Instead of studying the core subjects, Skye learned the intricacies of espionage, everything from hand-to-hand combat to interrogation methods. Her morning classes focused on the type of information to gather and how to get it, from cameras, questioning, addressing security threats and learning how to fade into the background. After lunch, the classes shifted to the physical side of things with more intensity than the daily cardio and endurance training. This was when Skye studied any and all forms of hand-to-hand combat and weapons training, and how to move swiftly and silently while keeping her heart rate and emotions under control.

The last class Skye had each day was all about the technical side of espionage work, and after three weeks at the Academy, that was the only class Skye felt like she was making any real progress in. She did well physically, according to her trainers and Bobbi, the fourth year student assisting in Skye’s combat classes, but Skye didn’t think she had made any significant progress. Her morning classes were even worse. Skye went in to each lecture feeling lost and confused, a feeling that did change by the end of the lectures no matter how many notes she took.

One evening, while eating dinner with Jemma, Fitz, and Fitz’s roommate Mack, Jemma convinced Skye to admit her struggles in class. Skye tried every trick she could to get out of it, but Jemma wouldn’t let it go. Both girls looked over at Mack, confused, when he started to laugh.

“Okay, so I’m not the only one.” Mack said with another chuckle. “It’s those acronyms man. I can barely remember what SHIELD stands for.”

“See, I knew you wouldn’t be the only one struggling.” Jemma says with a smug smile. Skye had vehemently insisted that she was probably the only one in class trying to keep up that last time Jemma had gotten Skye to talk about it. Skye maturely stuck her tongue out at Jemma in response. “Study group time?”

“Please,” Mack nodded towards Skye. “I’ll email the rest of the class, see if anyone else wants to join.”

To Skye’s great surprise and Jemma’s smug satisfaction, several of Skye and Mack’s classmates were just as much trouble and thus began a new addition to Skye’s routine, spending a few hours a week in the library with her classmates going over lecture notes and making sure they all knew what they needed to. Sometimes, Skye’s group would meet up with Jemma’s and Ftiz’s study group and a round of good-natured teasing would begin. Apparently, it was strange for so many Operations and SciTech students to get along and they were on the receiving end of more than a few strange looks. It felt strange to Skye, to be surrounded by so much light energy while in the company of people who planned to dedicate their lives to working in the shadows. Then again, Skye had never had much experience with friends before. No one wanted to be friends with the orphan girl with a bad reputation. A few weeks at the Academy and Skye started to feel like maybe she really did belong with Shield. Her grades improved along with her physical abilities, to the point that her instructor had her working with Bobbi on advanced form in daily extra training sessions and she had a real friend group for the first time in her life.

She also had Jemma.

Maybe it was a product of living in the same room with Jemma. Afterall, they were bound to either hate or love one another as all roommates do, but Skye hadn’t expected this genuine fondness for Jemma to grow. She thinks it happened in their downtime, the small amount that they had since they were both on the fast track for graduation and that seemed more and more limited as time went on. As the semester progressed, Skye found herself looking forward to their Saturdays, the one day a week when they had any substantial time to relax, which she spent with Jemma watching the greatest science fiction show of all time. Skye could admit that Doctor Who was pretty cool, but she was looking forward to watching the newer runs rather than the older ones. Mostly, Skye enjoyed sitting in either her or Jemma’s bed with a laptop perched between them and listening to Jemma the actual theories behind the science The Doctor used. It was soothing somehow, listening to Jemma talk during these times. Half soothing and half amusing as Jemma spoke so fast she tripped over her words or mashed them together so badly, Skye couldn’t understand her at all. 

Still, these times with Jemma were Skye’s favorite. She didn’t have to worry about her grades or form or strength. She didn’t have to wonder if she belonged at the academy or with Shield at all. With Jemma, Skye felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. 

~

Jemma finds that she immensely enjoys the routine she and Skye developed over their first eight weeks at the Academy and she is surprisingly disappointed when their first round of exams disrupts their days. It’s not necessarily a bad thing that Skye spends more time with the ever-changing roster of her study group, or working with her advanced combat instructor Bobbi (who Jemma hasn’t met but for some reason doesn't seem to be fond of) to make sure that she’s in top form for all her exams. Jemma herself increases the hours she spends in the lab with Fitz so it’s not like they could have spent that extra time together. Really, Jemma isn’t sure why not having Skye there at meal times is so upsetting to her. Fitz and Mack were in the same situation but neither of them seemed half as down as Jemma felt. In fact, Fitz seemed a bit more chipper than normal during their increased lab time. 

Skye herself seemed tired and stressed but not as down as Jemma. She came into their room each night with a satisfied smile, greeting Jemma warmly before stepping on the bathroom for a quick shower. When she emerged, Skye would make her way over to Jemma’s side of the room they shared and take a seat on the edge of Jemma’s bed, careful to keep her wet hair from dripping onto Jemma’s blankets. Skye would smile down at Jemma, who usually sat at her desk reviewing notes, and tell her something that had happened that day, or a joke. Then, after making Jemma smile or laugh, Skye would ask about Jemma’s day and listen with a fond smile as her roommate began babbling about what she had been up to in the lab. 

After a week of this, Jemma began to realize how different she felt around Skye. She had always felt a level of comfort around Skye, one that surprised her. She hadn’t felt so at ease with someone other than family, not even Fitz. With Fitz, there had been a period of adjustment, a time where they had to sort of feel one another out until they settled into their friendship. With Skye, it wasn’t that they clicked right away but that it simply felt different. Being around SKye made Jemma feel both calm and excited at the same time. Her aura was soothing and intoxicating all at once. Jemma enjoyed the evenings spent with Skye more than she thought she would, and finds herself looking forward to spending even more time with Skye. 

Like they do every weekend, the Saturday after exams Skye and Jemma set up with some snacks and Skye’s ridiculously soft blanket to watch Doctor Who together. Skye, to sore to move much from her combat exam, groans as she opens her eyes when Jemma asks whose bed they should settle on. 

“Jem, I don’t think I can move.” Skye hears Jemma’s laugh and turns her head to look at her. Jemma holds her laptop in one hand, looking at Skye with a fond sort of exasperation. “Just get over here.” 

“Maybe we should just skip today,” Jemma says lightly. “I know you’re exhausted.” 

“It’s tradition Jemma.” Skye rolls her eyes. “We both know you’re going to graduate early so we only have a year to enjoy this, less than that now.” Skye looks at her roommate through half-open eyes. A sliver of light catches the color of Jemma’s eyes and makes them seem sparkly. Or maybe Skye’s just really tired. “Just c’mere. We just need to lay down instead of sitting up.” 

“Okay, okay, if you insist.” Jemma agrees, rolling her eyes at Skye’s vehement statement that she does, in fact, insist. 

Jemma fights the blush that rises on her cheeks as she crawls into Skye’s bed after Skye scoots back towards the wall. The bed is far too small for the two of them to comfortably lay down this way, but Skye doesn’t seem to mind. They set the laptop across Skye’s legs and Jemma lays on her side with Skye’s shoulder acting as her pillow. Jemma tries to ignore the flutters in her stomach that rise suddenly and keep her normal running commentary of the show going. If that commentary is a little less energetic than normal Skye doesn’t notice, she’s far too busy snoozing the day away. It’s hard for her to not fall asleep, not only does she hurt in places she hadn’t since her first week at the Academy, she had Jemma right next to her. Jemma, who is warm and smells like earl grey and lavender and whose voice Skye had already found soothing even when she wasn’t exhausted. Once she notices that Skye had fallen back asleep, Jemma forgoes her normal commentary in favor of trying to keep herself perfectly still and calm. Skye shifts a bit in her sleep and her arm curls around Jemma’s shoulder, drawing them closer together. It’s when Jemma is trying to keep her heart from beating out of her chest that the realization hits her. 

She isn’t sure how or when it happened, but she can’t deny that it has happened. Jemma, without realizing it had formed a crush on Skye. 

And she has absolutely no idea how to deal with it. 

~

A few weeks after mid semester exams, Skye notices Jemma acting a little differently. It's the little things that Skye picks up on, like Jemma sitting a little further away from Skye when they eat together, or Jemma not holding eye contact with Skye for longer than a few seconds. These things don’t strike Skye as odd, at least not enough to make her question it until she notices that Jemma only acts weird when they are around their friends. When it’s just the two of them alone in their dorm, Jemma seems to have no issue being close to Skye. They continue cuddling up together on weekends to watch movies together after Skye tires of watching the same thing every week. Jemma seems much more relaxed during those times, like she can breathe a little easier. Noticing this, Skye begins to discreetly observe Jemma during their interactions with their friends. A few days of watching Jemma tense up and listening to her increasing babbles, Skye connects each instance back to one common denominator. Or, rather, one common person. 

Fitz.

Jemma must have a crush on Fitz. 

The realization hits Skye in the middle of dinner and she stands abruptly. 

“Skye?” Jemma asks in confusion as Skye begins to gather up her tray and step away from the table. 

“Sorry, I have a question for Bobbi,” the hastily made up excuse rolls of her tongue. She can’t be near Jemma right then, not with the knowledge of Jemma’s crush fresh on her mind. She isn’t so sure why her realization feels like a stab to the heart. “I’ll see you guys later.” 

“Bye, Skye,” Fitz says with a cheery smile and a friendly wave. Skye pauses for half a second before smiling back at him and walking off. Her three friends watch as Skye dumps her tray in the receptacle near the door and walks out. 

“That was weird.” Mack comments lightly, noticing that Fitz seems wholly unaffected by Skye’s abrupt departure. Jemma, on the other hand, sports a small frown and merely picks at her meal for a moment before leaving herself. Watching Jemma leave, Mack laughs lightly. 

“They had no idea.” Mack says, mostly to himself but Fitz hears as well. 

“You see it too?” There’s a sad lilt to Fitz’s voice. 

“Yeah,” Mack pats his roommate on the shoulder. “Sorry, bud.” 

“It’s okay.” Fitz mumbles, fully aware that Mack was talking about the crush Fitz himself had on Jemma. “I think they’ll be good together, if they ever figure it out.” 

Mack agreed but didn’t vocalize it. He knew Fitz was putting on a brave face, but the Scottish man was devastated Jemma didn’t return his affections. 

After that incident at dinner, Skye kept to herself for the last four weeks of her first semester at the Academy. Now that she was aware of Jemma’s feelings for Fitz, it became much easier to ignore her own growing feelings for her roommate. It helped that Skye had been approved to move ahead a year in the program since she had shown such promise as a field agent and her work load nearly tripled so Skye didn’t have much time to worry about anything other than her assignments. Jemma was spending less time in the dorm as well as finals approached, which made avoiding the situation that much easier. Skye was able to use studying for her increased tests as an excuse to cut their Saturday marathon sessions short, which helped her resist the urge to bring up Jemma’s crush, or do something really stupid like kiss Jemma herself and admit her own feelings. 

The end of the semester approached rapidly and before either of them realized it was passing so fast, they were spending their last Saturday in their room together before the Christmas holidays. Skye would be spending the next two and half weeks alone in their dorm as one of the few students who’d elected to stay on campus for the holidays. Jemma would be travelling back to England in the morning to spend Christmas and New Year’s with her family. 

There was an air of awkwardness around them as they curled up in Skye’s bed to watch The Grinch together in honor of the Christmas season. Things hadn’t felt quite right between them since that day in the cafeteria, Skye hoped that spending some time apart would help ease the tension a bit and maybe help her get over her crush or, at the very least, get her feelings under better control. 

“You excited to see your family?” Skye asks after the movie ends, while Jemma busies herself with finishing packing for her trip. Skye pretends not to notice that Jemma had slipped one of the horrible Christmas sweaters that Fitz and Mack had pranked them with at the beginning of the semester into her bag along with a few of her other cardigans. 

“Yes, of course,” Jemma smiled, “though I’m not looking forward to the flights. Horrible jetlag.” 

“I’ll bet.” Skye laughed. Shuffling her feet nervously, Skye pulled a medium sized wrapped box from beneath her bed and held it with both hands. She suddenly felt nervous at the thought of presenting Jemma with the present, but she refused to back down. “Hey, Jem?” 

“What is it? What’s that?” Jemma asked upon turning around and spotting the box in Skye’s hands. 

“I got you something. It’s not much but, well, I thought since we aren’t going to see each other until after Christmas, you can have it now.” Skye explained, hating the unsure quality to her voice. Jemma looked at Skye with soft eyes, turning to rummage in her own des for a moment before facing Skye again with a smaller box in her own hands. 

“That sounds like a great idea,” Jemma said and held out the box for Skye to take. 

Presents exchanged, Skye gestured for Jemma to open hers first. Jemma did so and pulled out a soft, white blanket, identical to the one currently draped across the back of Skye’s desk chair on the other side of the room. Jemma smiles slightly and runs her fingers across the impossibly soft blanket. 

“I noticed that you get cold easily.” Skye explains with a faint blush covering her cheeks. “And that you love to steal my blanket when we watch t.v. and stuff together. Now we’ll have one on both sides of the room.” 

Jemma laughed quietly, placing the folded blanket in her travel bag before turning back Skye and pulling her into a hug. Jemma was surprised and touched that Skye had noticed such a small detail about her, and the simple gift warmed her heart. “Thank you Skye, I love it.” 

“You’re welcome, Jem.” Skye tried to ignore how right it felt to hold Jemma in her arms and simply squeezed her around the waist once before letting go. 

“Now you,” Jemma picked up the box containing her gift to Skye and pushed it into her hands. Skye pulled the wrapping paper off and opened the box. Inside, she found a silver chain with an embossed pendant that contained an image of a starry night sky. 

“I remember what you said about the stars,” Jemma explained, taking the necklace out of the box and helping Skye put it on. “How you could see them through the window at St. Agnes and it helped you not feel so alone.” 

Skye played with the pendant now hanging from her neck, remembering the night she had told Jemma about that. They had been walking from  the library to the dorms with the stars shining brightly overhead. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky. The story about her childhood had fallen from Skye’s lips before she could stop it and she had waited for the pitying remark life had taught her to expect. It never came. Jemma had simply agreed on the beauty of the stars before they continued on their way. Now in their dorm, Skye turned back to Jemma who was wearing a nervous smile. 

“Now you can see the stars all the time.” Jemma finishes the explanation and twists her fingers together as she waits for Skye’s reaction. 

Skye wants to kiss her, every part of her feels as if she’s reaching for Jemma. She’s close enough that Skye could do it, could close the few inches between them. She’d barely have to move to do it. Skye glances down at Jemma’s lips and for a second she throws caution to the wind. She starts to lean in but then, she remembers Jemma’s crush on Fitz and at the last second changes the angle she’s moving at. Her lips land on Jemma’s cheek instead of her lips and Skye tries not to drown in the crushing weight of her own disappointment. Instead, Skye wraps her arms and Jemma again and acts as if she had never intended to do anything other than hug Jemma. 

“Merry Christmas, Jem.” 

“Merry Christmas, Skye.” 

[slothgiirl]

Y/N AND HARRY STYLES SOULMATE AU PART 3

It's been a month and you’re pretty sure that Harry’s your soulmate. It's stopped itching after that day, when you'd run into each other at a coffee shop. It had already been lucky to run into someone twice in a city of millions, and your luck hadn't held up.

While the letters on your wrist are still pretty blurred, you can make out the H and S, his initials.

You hadn't told anyone either, wanting to keep it a secret. It felt wrong to go about telling people when you hadn't had a chance to talk to the man himself. Not really.

It made for good material to work through in your art studio hours. All the worrying and what ifs and thoughts running through your head as you thought about reaching out on instagram in the hope that it would somehow get to him.

But then you didn't. Not wanting to have to explain and talk to whoever on  his team...of his people, handled that sort of thing.

Many celebrities got people claiming to be their soulmates. Hopefully young girls and boys who really wanted it to be true, who wanted their idols or celebrity crush to be theirs.

Or maybe you were just being old fashioned and letting things happen as they're meant to instead of blasting it on social media like some people did now, counting on the millions of people on social media to connect them.

It didn't matter.

You were fine with just seeing what happened. London wasn't that big. And you were still pretty young. And it might not be him.

Even though you knew in your heart that it was.

Between school, and work, and the little art our able to get done, you collapse in your apartment, Lydia already setting on your couch in a pair of sweats and old t shirt that might be yours actually now that you think about it.

“There's pizza,” she calls out to you, not looking up from her phone, smiling widely as she scrolls, “I think it's cold now but maybe it's like rice where it's less carbs when it's cold.”

“That sounds super fake and cold pizza is really freaking gross.” You utter, having almost died when she made leftover pizza and eggs together like it was an actual breakfast.

“I'm saving the planet by not using the toaster oven technically though.”

You snort, “wow I love an environmentally conscious queen.”

“So about that soulmate mark,” she says, smirking over at you from the couch, easy in your tiny flat while you pop a slice into the toaster oven.

“Don't want to talk about it,” you reply, already feeling the heat rise up into your cheeks.

“But you’re like the first person to get it!” She states, eyes practically sparkling with the idea. She'd never felt the annoying itch that made you scratch until your wrist turn red.

But even then you could feel the butterflies in your belly. It was easy to get lost in the idea of it all.

“Didn’t Pooja and Andy get it when they were still seventeen. Like months after the mark showed up!”

She shakes her head, looking back down at her phone in deep interest, “doesn't count because it happened before we met them. There's so gross together,” she finished fondly, sticking her tongue out.

“I'm going to tell them you said that.” You take a bite out of your reheated pizza, immediately regretting it when the hot steam burns inside your mouth.

“Anyway,” she says, “doing anything next Saturday?”

You shrug, “no. Don't think so. why?” It was your day from school and work. Ignoring all the work you should be doing for your classes. At least your thesis work was next year.

“Just wanted to make sure,” she says nonchalantly, “keep your day clear. We are going out.”

You laugh. There's never a day in which she doesn't want to go out and do something. “Okay. Do I get a say in it?”

“No, lets get lebanese at that one place by hyde park?”

Your mouth is already watering at the thought, “okay. I'm down, especially if we go to Hyde Park right after.”

“Deal,” she says, sitting up, “Now I'm going to go shower for the first time in a week.”

“Lydia that's so bloody disgusting,” you shout after her.

*

You're early. For once you hadn't been held back by anything but your own laziness after a long week. It was nice to have somewhere to be where you actually wanted to be, meeting up with Lydia like you too were still at college.

It wasn't like you'd lived very far from each other back home. And more often than not you'd ridden your bikes around town, resulting in more than a few falls.

You grab a table, order a mimosa while you wait like the semi functional adult you are because ladies who brunch order mimosas or so you've been led to believe. Plus it was bottomless, so it was a steal really.

As long as you drank your heart out. With Lydia you felt safe getting tipsy during daylight hours.

You scroll through your phone, answering texts and send some memes to people you knew were at work. Suckers. Laughing at the group chat for your ethics class now that you finally were actually reading through it. Andy was hilarious as usual.

When Harry walks in, wearing a tigre t shirt and loose pants in a flowery print, more bold than anything in your mainly neutral wardrobe, and raybans.

You swallow, heart speeding up at the weight of him walking through the door like something out of a romcom even though he can't be here for you. It's just a coincidence and yet you've never felt more nervous, the weight of it all lodged in your throat.

Your fingers brush against your mark, soothing the live wire of nerves under your skin.

He's walking towards you. It's unmistakable now but you can't see his expression underneath the black sunglasses. It strikes you as rude, that he hasn't taken them off. The sun's not even beating down hotly today.

You still haven't looked away.  Maybe that's why he's coming over. . .too say hello. Technically you do know him.

People say hello all the time.

“Can I sit down here,” he asks, coming to a stop in front of you, head tilted towards the empty side of the booth.

Predictably, you ramble in shock, “my friend Lydia's coming actually but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you sat here while you waited-are you waiting for someone?”

Harry slides his glasses off, hands still covered in a few large rings that somehow keep from looking overly tack on him. It must be the large hands.

The perfect kind for drawing really.

“Um,” he says, red staining his well defined cheekbones, “actually I'm meeting you…”

You raise an eyebrow, confusion written on your face.

Harry rushes to explain, flustered, “I had-I looked through a bunch of photos of me tagged on instagram and twitter and figured your friend Lydia might have uploaded and tagged me and then really hoped that she had her profile public,” he says, leaning over to you, bathing you both with an air of intimacy that you mirror as you study his features. The earnestness with which he's speaking to you clear in his mossy green eyes, in a way that paint could never mimic.

“and then I sent her a message and explained,” he trails off softly, looking down at his hands for a second, biting the inside of his cheek, searching for the words he needs.

You cover his hands on the table with yours, meeting his gaze head on. There's something so disarmingly kind about him that all that nervous energy you'd felt when he walked in had dissipated.

“Well I explained about what I think is...y'know maybe...it's too forward innit,” he utters, swallowing thickly as he meets your gaze, leaning back and pulling away from you, the warmth of his hands leaving yours. “I should've talked to your first not-not sprung this up on you.”

“No,” you tell him, “I was glad to see you again. Not that I wasn't also really freaking nervous but mostly glad.” The words feel true enough as you say them. So they must be true.

Harry relaxes against the table in relief, chuckling lightly to himself, looking over at you shamelessly, like he can't stand to lose another minute without you. Not when you might be-when you probably are-

You let out a deep breathe, “We should probably talk.” Someone should state it. Get it out of the way because there's no way you came all the way out here without getting one of your favorite dishes in london.

“We should,” he responds with a smile, small and hopeful and god wouldn't it be something if he is! This kind man who remembered you after a concert. Who went around london like any normal person might and didn't that say a lot about what type of person he is when he could be a complete arse given his fame.

“But first I’m going to eat and bore you with so much random bits of my Mayanist research paper I've yet to finish because I'm still pretending that it's not due next week and that time I had a popsicle made from zapote counted as research.” The popsicle had been interesting. The lackluster research results on your subject for this paper was not.  

It had almost made you change subjects. Almost.

There's flecks of caramel in Harry's eyes when the light hits them, laugh lines deep around his lush mouth as he smiles over at you. “Only if you’re alright with me interrupting you with questions every five seconds,” he responds.

You look away, trying to calm down the warmth spreading throughout you from being on the receiving end of Harry smiling at you, not because he was usually smiling, but because he was happy to see you.

It's then that you notice the quick glances over at your table, the awkward hold of phones in hands and remember just who this man across from you is. You press your lips together, resolving to ignore them.

“Deal,” you tell him with a smile, “now I welcome you to share in my ladies who brunch dream before I squish in as much work as I can get through tomorrow.”

He laughs and you smile because that was you. You made him laugh.

*

Harry is easy to talk to, which you knew from that day in the coffee shop and even that night when Lydia had asked for a picture with him and you'd so easily teased him. What you hadn't expected was how easy it was to slip right into that.

No nervousness or strain arose from your impending talk as you slipped on your drink and ate, talking between bites.

You tell him about a documentary you just watched which was more of a string of thoughts, the type to make any cinephile nod in delight. About your latin american culinary research as your paper focused on important plants during mayan times and how they had translated into modern times. “I mean most people the world over had had guava not to mention the super fruit that avocado has become.”

“Who doesn't love a good guac,” Harry muses. “Though as good as guava is there's too many big seeds. Can't hardly-” He stops.

You smirk, “finish the sentence Harold.”

He sighs already laughing to himself, resolved, “can't hardly swallow.”

“That's what she said.”

“Knew you were going to say that.”

He tells you about his recent trip to the states. To a big awards ceremony with Stevie Nicks who it's clear he adores in the way his voice goes soft when he talks about her. “People always tell you not to meet your idols but,” he shrugs, face glowing as he continues, “it's-she's cooler than I could've imagined and such a good person too. She was really great when I wanted to show her my first album. Gave it to me straight.”

You smile, “It's amazing to know that some people are deserving of all the trust and love that people have in them.”

You split the bill without a fuss, merging into the late afternoon crowd seamlessly, a world away from the weird half hidden glances over at you.

You don't know how he does it. It had set you on edge, an edge the mimosa helped dull.

“Want to go to the Natural History Museum,” you ask him, wanting somewhere that might grant some privacy to talk. Hyde park just seemed to open. And the V&A was always so busy.

“Do you know the way,” he asks, glancing down at you.

You nod and lead the way, easily navigating a street over and up, comfortable in the quiet that had descended around you both.

There was enough sun out now in mid april to warm your skin, a nice change after the winter months of layers and layers.

It makes the walk enjoyable. Spring’s and underrated season you think. Too many people get caught up in summer for school holidays and winter because of winter break but spring was where it's at.

“You come here often,” he asks, as you both aimlessly wander around the museum, passing by people too absorbed in the exhibits to look over at the man by your side.

“When I can,” you readily admit, “I still feel so lucky to live so close to so many amazing museums even if the collections were all stolen.”

He snorts, “your professors must love you.”

“Well my greek professor did not so much my lit prof because english lit is all dead white guys that I think are vastly overrated.”

Harry shakes his head, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, “and I want to hear them all no matter  how much I might disagree.”

You grin, “well how boring would it be if we all had the same options? I mean I won't budge on Hemingway but art is a dialogue isn't it?”

“And what dialogue does your art say,” he asks as you step into an empty gallery. You suppose that the bird taxidermy collection is hardly exciting when zoos exist.

“That we should talk,” you respond, turning to face him, intimately close, his chest inches from yours.

“We should,” he says carefully, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, solid and warm and your eyes flutter closed. You breath in the smell of him, like sharp clean leather.

“Is this okay,” Harry asks with great care, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, “yeah, I mean,” you pull away unable to think straight so close to him, turning so that your looking at some long dead puffin. “Did you think I might be-when we ran into each other at the coffee shop?”

You hold your breathe as you wait for him to answer.

Harry doesn't move toward you, sighing as he leans against a wall, chewing over his words, brow furrowed. “No,” he finally says, “I didn't. I just remembered you'd been nice and funny about the whole thing with Lydia and then I ran into you and thought it might be a sign from the universe we're meant to be friends so I figured why not and went over to talk to you. My sister tells me I've always been like that. Friendly. Making friends out of strangers.”

You exhale, smiling as you turn towards him, taken by the severity of his expression. His gaze is fixed on you. “I didn't think-not until later when I was at work and my mark,” you offer, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears, “it seemed like too big of a coincidence. I hadn't really bumped into anyone else who's name starts with an H.”

“You didn't reach out,” he states, void of any rapprochement.

“I wasn't sure how to go about these things and I,” you hesitate, “I was still thinking things over. I mean this is sort of a huge thing.”

The corner of his lips perk up, “can I see it?”

You blush furiously, excitement traveling up your spine, “yes.”

Harry moves towards you, closing the distance between you both. He leaves enough space between you both, a step apart. It feels like too much and yet your glad, you don't want to rush. If he's really yours you want to take your time, to get to know him first and foremost.

You don't even know if he's a morning person. Or if he spreads the cream on scones first or the jelly first.

You can feel his gaze tracking your hands as you pull the sleeve of your right hand down, revealing your soulmate mark.

A blurry but legible Harry E. Styles

[rinthehufflepuff]

Agent M pt. 3

Parings: Clintasha x Reader

Summary: You’ve been on the run for four years, never staying in one place too long, until you stumble across an abandoned house that seems the perfect place to bunker down in for the winter.  Just as you’re getting comfortable, however, and the seasons start to change, the homeowners appear and they are far different from anything you could have expected.

Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse

Word Count: 2772

A/N: Tags are open in case you want to say up to date.

Part One - Part Two

By the next Friday, you knew something was wrong.  Natasha was, yet again, awake before you and curled up on the couch with Lucky laying across her lap.  What made you worry were the circles under her eyes, how the whole day she seemed slower with whatever she was doing.  You didn’t say anything all day, simply lending a hand around the house rather than working in the barn, but once you had finished dinner you had decided you had to say something.  It was obvious that Natasha wasn’t sleeping without Clint.

“Tasha,” you called, feeling the oddness of the shortened name on your tongue as you leaned against the nearly completed breakfast bar.  You only received a half-hearted hum in response so you locked your jaw and crouched in front of where the woman still sat at the table.  “We need to go to bed, Tasha.”

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” the redhead said, offering you a strained smile.

“No, Tasha,” you frowned, hesitantly touching her hand, “we both need to sleep.  You’re tired, it’s not hard to see ‘cause, I’m sorry, but you look like absolute shit.  Why don’t you stay with me?  It...it’s always hard sleeping alone if you’re used to sharing a bed, I get that, but Clint would be worried.”

“You sure?”  Natasha sounded as exhausted as she looked, but there was still that careful hesitance she often directed towards you.  It wasn’t because she was shy or scared, no that was your thing, but because she was being careful.  Careful of what, you couldn’t say, but you had grown to trust her more than you had trusted anyone since you were a child, and you were worried about her.

“Of course,” you soothed, offering a small smile.  “Your room or mine?”  You could have sworn you saw the edges of her lips curl up as you squeezed her hand a little and stood up.

So, for the next several days, you spend your nights in Clint and Natasha’s room, sharing a bed with the woman you had finally felt brave enough to call a friend.  Lucky would sleep at the foot of the bed, something he normally did with you since Clint and Natasha usually kept their door closed at night.  The first few nights you slept on the very edge of the mattress, not wanting to get too close, but you would always wake up cuddled up to Natasha’s side so you eventually abandoned the attempt at keeping space between you and went straight to curling into her side.  

You kept finding yourself much better rested the next morning than when you were sleeping alone and you had to admit how unbelievably safe you felt curled up with Natasha.  You talked more during the day, even holding full conversations with the men at the garage when you went to work that week.  It wasn’t until that Thursday when you realized how much you would miss not being able to sleep with Natasha once Clint was home.  

You had woken up in a cold sweat, tears burning your eyes and your throat clenching mid sob.  Every so often you would find yourself like this after a particularly bad nightmare, your skin prickling at the memory of pain and your sleep-addled brain convincing you that you weren’t where you had fallen asleep.  Normally, you would roll out of bed and just work on house repairs until you had to go to work or until you had to stop for food, but you didn’t want to disturb Natasha.  

Except she was what had woken you up.

A cool cloth pressed against your face and it took you a few moments to calm yourself enough to recognize that Natasha was speaking softly in Russian.

“Did, did I wake you up,” you asked, trying to pull yourself into a sitting position.  Try being the operative word because Natasha just pressed her hand to your shoulder to keep you nestled against the pillows.

“Shh, Myshka, I was already awake,” Natasha murmured, shifting the cloth from your face to your neck.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

You don’t, not really, but Natasha’s voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and her touch is so gentle.  You hadn’t been touched this carefully in years, not since you were a child.  It helps that the room is dark, the slight glow from the alarm clock and hallway light giving the barest of impressions of Natasha’s outline.

“He wouldn’t stop h-hitting me,” you whispered, terrified that if you spoke too loudly the man that haunted your nightmares would leap out from the shadows.  “Everything hurt so much and-and then he locked me in the fr-freezer.  Said he’d let me out in the morning, ‘cept it...he…”  Your voice cracks and you let out a small sob.  You could feel it, the cold seeping through your skin and into your bones, the ache in your muscles from the beatings.  Before you can go too far, Lucky has laid himself along your body and nuzzles your face, his hot, dog breath fanning across your skin.

“Y/N, I promise you’re safe here,” Natasha soothes, carefully brushing your hair out of your face.  “I won’t let anyone hurt you, and I know Clint won’t let anyone hurt you either...You don't need to be scared of him, you know - he really is a good guy.”  Natasha removes the now warm cloth and crawls back under the covers, her arms snaking around you ever so loosely and you find yourself curling into her and hiding your face in the crook of her neck.  “He got me my job, you know - at our company.”  Her fingers slowly trail up your arms in calming patterns.  “Clint found me on one of his assignments and he took me in, stood up for me when his boss wanted me locked up.  The dork even trained me because he knew I didn’t trust anyone other than him.”

“I didn't know.”

“Why would you,” Natasha chuckled.  “We try not to talk about work too much when we’re here.”

“Yeah, but...I just feel like a jerk now,” you huffed.  “I’ve been living with you and Clint for months and all I’ve done is skirt around you even though you’re letting me stay in your home.  You don’t even know me!”

“You were being careful, Y/N, we understand that better than you might think.”  You lapsed into silence after that, but it wasn’t awkward.  Natasha was warm and comfortable, and Lucky’s weight, still on your legs and torso, was grounding after the nightmare.  Eventually, the hum of the ceiling fan and Natasha’s even breathing lulled you back into a dreamless sleep, deeper than you had had since you ran away four years ago.

><><><><><

When Natasha woke hours later, she was surprised to find you still curled into her side.  She had fully expected you to be gone when she woke up, the spot you had occupied cold.  But there you were, face more relaxed than she had ever seen before, lips slightly parted and your H/C hair still tucked behind your ear from when she had fixed it earlier that morning.  

She didn't want to admit it, but you had scared her.  Clint had called, he was on his way back from Spain and he’d wanted to let her know he was safe and only slightly scratched up.  He’d been chatting, asking about you and what you and she had been up to without him when Natasha heard you scream.  Being an agent, she was used to screaming - pained, panicked, scared - and somehow yours managed to be all three at once, echoing through the house and making her heart leap into her throat.  She’d rushed to the sink and dampened a cloth - just as she always did for Clint when he had night terrors - while explaining her sudden worry to the archer.  Clint promised he would try and hurry back and she rushed up to her and Clint’s room where you were thrashing in the bed.  You were covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but you were shivering and pale, your cheeks littered with tear streaks.  Natasha hadn’t seen an episode this bad in years.  That it was happening to you of all people had made her stomach twist.

As carefully as she could, Natasha slipped out of bed before bunching the blankets around you and tucking her pillow under your head so it was propped in the same position.  Lucky had moved to the end of the bed during the night, but with a whispered command he moved to lay so that his head rested on your hip where Natasha’s arm had been only a few moments ago.  Ever so briefly, your nose scrunched and your E/C eyes fluttered open.  Natasha was sure that you would get up, but you only get out a slurred request for her to put on a pot of coffee for Clint before you were asleep again.  

Natasha couldn’t be sure how long you would sleep, it was rare that she would see you express your exhaustion - let alone wake after the sun had risen, - but something told her it wouldn’t be too long until you were awake and ready to get to work.  Natasha knew you didn’t eat real breakfasts, she would come down in the morning and, often, the only indication that you had even been in the kitchen would be a cereal bar wrapper in the trash.  You had made her breakfast when Clint left and she had spent the night reading on the couch, but you had made just a single portion and left as soon as you had given it to her.  Today, however, she would make sure you would eat breakfast.  You deserved it, especially after the night you had.

Remembering your fondness for the Russian dishes she sometimes made, Natasha spent longer than she normally would have to make syrniki batter, but if she was going to make you breakfast, she was going to do it right.  Natasha couldn’t help but grin as she worked, the motions familiar and easy.  More than that, though, they were domestic - something Natasha had never dreamed she would be able to achieve after the Red Room and her years at S.H.I.E.L.D.  

It’s just as the coffee machine beeps that Natasha hears Clint’s truck sputter up to the house.  It was a piece of junk, the engine cutting out every so often, and it occurred to Natasha that she should ask you to take a look at the poor thing before Clint drives it into the ground just like he’s done with everything else he has ever owned.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint smiled, slouching against the doorframe, duffle bag still slung over his shoulder.

“Hey yourself,” Natasha smirks, kissing the corner of his mouth.  “How was the mission?”

“Fine, nothing too exciting besides one of my hearing aids getting busted,” Clint hums, fishing the purple device out of his pocket.  “What about you?  What happened last night?”

“Night terror.  Clint, I think-”  Natasha cut herself off as you shuffled into the kitchen.  You were already dressed in your usual threadbare jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.  Wordlessly, you crept forward and plucked Clint’s hearing aid out of his hand.  You study it for only a moment before your face pinches in slight disgust and you turn and go back upstairs.

“Well that wasn’t odd at all,” Clint chuckled.  He reached around Natasha and pulled the coffee pot from the machine, inhaling the bitter steam with a small smile.

“I think after last night she’s going to be a little shy for a while,” Natasha sighed, turning to the stove.  “Coffee’s fresh by the way, Y/N asked me to put on a pot for you.”

“You told her I’d be home today?”

“...No.”  Natasha looked up from the stove and frowned.  “No, I didn’t get the chance when I was calming her down, and she’s only just gotten up.”

“Here,”  Clint and Natasha look to you as you wander back into the kitchen, screwing shut a panel on the side of Clint’s hearing aid with a few cut and stripped wires clutched in your teeth.  “Don’t know what you did to mess it up but it’ll work now,” you mutter, setting the device on the table and discarding the wires.  “Enjoy breakfast.”  Without another word, you make to walk out the back door, presumably to go to the barn, Lucky at your heels.

“You don't want breakfast?”  You turn to stare at Natasha and blink.

“I...I thought it was for you and Clint,” you frown.  Natasha watches as your hand twitches towards Lucky and your eyes dart to the archer who was situating the repaired hearing aid where he wanted it.  Clint made you nervous, Natasha knew that.  After last night, however, Natasha was beginning to think men, in general, put you on edge, though she only ever saw you around Clint so she couldn't be sure.

Natasha gave a small smile and pointed to the three plates stacked next to the stove.  “No, Myshka, I made food for all of us.  Sit, relax for once, the barn will still be there after breakfast.”

“I guess,” you sighed, taking the seat Clint had nudged out with his foot.  “It’s not like we’re storing wet hay and have to worry about spontaneous combustion.”

“That can happen?”  Natasha smirked and watched in the reflection of the toaster as you glance towards Clint.

“Mhm, if hay is stored when the moisture is above, erm, twenty to twenty-five percent there’s a chance that it can, you know...fwoosh,” you murmur, making a small explosion gesture with your hands.  Natasha quietly chuckled and Clint nodded his head, completely engrossed.  Natasha could tell it made you uncomfortable.

“But why does it fwoosh,” Clint asked, leaning back in his chair.  As dense as Clint could be, Natasha was glad he knew enough to not get closer to you.

“Well, erm, if hay is stored that damp it can heat up real fast, and if the temperature reaches above one hundred thirty degrees there’s this reaction - it doesn’t need oxygen to happen - that releases chemicals.  Anyway, the, uh, gasses that are produced are flammable and at the point of production, the temperature is already above their ignition point, so if those gasses get in contact with the air they will probably ignite and catch everything on fire.”  

You’re distracted enough trying to explain the process to Clint that you don't notice when Natasha slips a plate in front of you and you automatically start eating, making an appreciative humming noise as you do.  You’re still not relaxed, and Natasha is still mulling over how you knew Clint was going to be home when she had never told you, but you’re talking to Clint and making an attempt to look at his face while you did so.  Two weeks of just you and she had meant making a little progress.  Now she just had to maintain the progression with Clint home.

><><><><><

You struggle to sleep that night, tossing and turning in your bed.  You can’t get warm enough, even with the extra blanket you had fished out from the bottom of the closet where Natasha had been storing the linens.  The room is too quiet as well, but also too loud.  The crickets droned on incessantly and the oscillating of the fan made you groan in frustration.  Huffing, you throw a pillow to the floor and try to sleep on the hardwood you and Natasha had polished a few days ago.  Another hour of rolling and readjusting and you still couldn’t sleep.  

Resigning yourself to the fact that it was going to be one of those nights, you got dressed and gathered your laundry, figuring you may as well work while you were awake.  Once you had started the washer, you went out to the barn, a can of paint in either hand.  Flipping on a light stand you had rigged up not too long after Clint and Natasha initially arrived, you paint through the night.  By the time the sun has risen and you’ve changed into your oil-stained, work jumpsuit the barn is a vibrant red.  The paint job meant the structure was complete.  Inside the barn, there were still jobs to be done, but they were all cosmetic and some of them couldn’t really be done until you asked Clint what he actually wanted to do with the barn.

[serpentlopez]

Stay With Me

Who: Eliana & Ale ( @serpenthart​ )

What: A sweet and innocent date at the drive in turns a little racy... and then really dirty.. and then there’s a surprise confession!

When: Dec 7, Night

Where: At the Twilight drive-in, then a side road in Riverdale, finally back at Ale’s apartment

Notes: Smut within - enemies of the heir, beware! Also there’s a good amount of talk about Puck/Ale ( @firefighterxnoah​ ) and an appearance via text from Charlie ( @serpentchar )

Eliana

For having never been in an actual relationship before, Eliana hadn't known what to expect. She knew that there wasn't a better guy than Ale, and she knew how she felt around him - despite how often she used to deny it. But she had never expected to feel as right as she did with him. The fear she worried would come never did, and her mind had a habit of trailing back to thoughts of him when they weren't together, which was part of the reason she was so thankful to have this whole weekend to spend alone with him. It had taken until Saturday night for her to even consider getting dressed but after the last day spent mostly in bed, Eliana was excited to get out with him and the drive in was a great suggestion. 

Pulling the blanket they'd brought higher towards her neck, Eliana hummed gently with her lips against Ale's neck, the movie still playing in the background. And though there were people and cars and couples around them, she simply felt like they were alone together. "Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on a movie when you're sitting next to me," she asked, with a grin on her face. Her nose nuzzled into his jaw, finding warmth in the cool December night, curled into his body.

Ale

It had taken a major effort to finally make the decision about them leaving the bed, after nearly been on it since Friday evening, but in the end it was decided some fun could also be had outside the confines of the bedroom. A quick shower, interrupted of course by a quickie there, and some clothes thrown on after, Ale was happy to drive his old truck to the drive-in, the place selected for their Saturday night date. Instead of sodas he had bought them two cups of hot steaming chocolate, but the popcorn were a most have. 

Both of them made a single bundle under the thick blanket they had brought along, their arms and legs so tucked together, they looked like one person. He grinned when he felt the brush of her lips against his skin, then looked down at her and smiled. "Well, you better, because I don't want to be banned from the drive-in for indecent exposure." He  laughed softly, then kissed her on the lips before he playfully shoved a couple of popcorn in her mouth.

Eliana

At his comment, Eliana laughed softly and crunched on the popcorn he'd given her, sticking her tongue out at him before swallowing. "I think Ryder would understand," she teased but since they still had the rest of the night and the next day to spend together, she'd made the decision to be good while they were out. Even before they were dating, she and Ale had done the sexual part very well. Now for as new as it was, she wanted to explore this sweet side of things. "Besides, there is absolutely nothing indecent about this body besides the things I like doing to it." 

Sitting up slightly, she reached for the hot chocolate she'd put down and then snuggled in close again, taking a sip of the hot chocolate that was finally cool enough not to burn her tongue. "Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday," Mostly because as soon as she saw him, everything else mostly faded away. "I got a call for the Luxury Car Jamboree place. He said he wanted me to come in for a second interview on Tuesday. Your girlfriend may finally be employed again instead of mooching off of you."

Ale

Ale chuckled and grabbed a fistful of popcorn. "Oh, I'm sure he would. But still, let's save the good stuff for when we're home." He put the blanket back on her shoulders properly after she reached for the cup, then shoved the popcorn in his  mouth and munched on it happily, his eyes lighting up when she told him the good news, but he had to wait until he swallowed the popcorn down to answer. 

"They did? Babe, that's so cool! You must've made an impression, I'm sure." He kissed the top of her head and chuckled. "As much as I wouldn't mind my girlfriend mooching off me, I think it's good that you have a job. Something to stop your mind from wandering, you know-" He shifted slightly on his spot and looked up at her with fond, warm eyes. "Girlfriend... My girlfriend... Shit, I like the sound of that."

Eliana

"Good idea." Eliana knew he hadn't meant it the way it came out but when he said 'for when we're home' it made her feel warm inside. "Then all manners of perversion can come out to play. I'm thinking whips, chains, maybe a good ball gag," she joked, laughing and leaning on him. Her eyes closed when he kissed the top of her head and she nodded. "Well, a good impression or the dude just liked it when he grabbed my ass on the way out. But a job is a job, at least, right?" Eliana nodded at the mind wandering comment. "Oh, yeah. That's the real important part here." Being clean wasn't as easy as she'd hoped. When she wanted to go out at night, she was quick to remember how easy it would be, or how fun, to get high. It was easier though having talked to him about her struggles with it. It felt good not being alone in that. 

Eliana's smile lit up brightly when he spoke, unable to contain the happy laugh that bubbled from her lips. "You're such a dork," she said, dunking her finger into the whipped cream on top of the drink and spreading it on the tip of his nose. "But I really like the sound of it too. Now that Charlie knows, I've barely used your name," she smirked. "I just keep saying 'oh my boyfriend..'"

Ale

Ale grinned. "A strap-on even?" he asked casually, then chuckled. He was about to grab his own coffee cup, when what he told her stopped his hand from reaching out. "He did what? Oh, fuck no. He's not about to get all grabby on you. I'll kick his ass." He huffed, being all too serious about it, then he cupped her chin and sighed. "One of the many things. But I know you can do it." "Hey!" he protested when she spread the cream on his nose and he scrunched it. "Well, then, girlfriend... I suggest you clean this-" He pointed to his nose and smirked.

Eliana

Eliana gasped playfully. "A strap-on? Mr. Hart, I had no idea you were so kinky." But the laugh fell when her words sunk in and she made a face. "He's an ass," she said, "Basically asked questions to my cleavage but he--" What exactly was it about how serious he got that sent tingles through her veins. "I know it's not ideal but if they offer it, how can I turn it down? Things are kind of tight all over. I really wish I hadn't fucked up the tattoo parlor." 

Luckily, Eliana didn't have time to think too much on that when he scrunched his nose and suggested she clean the mess. "Clean what?" She asked, playing dumb. "I don't see anything on your face. You look just as good as ever..." Grinning, she tilted her chin up to kiss Ale's lips and let some of the cream spread on her nose as well. "There. Now we match."

Ale

Ale giggled. "It's been a while since someone fucked me. I've been doing most of the fucking lately." He winked at her, then sighed as he heard her explaining. "I know. But I don't have to like it" he said, matter of factly and leaving no room to doubt. He laughed softly and kissed her back. "Much better" he said, then he shifted on the spot again, opening his legs so she would settle between them, the blanket wrapped tight around both of them, making them look like the warmest burrito. 

The movie was still playing and there were few people at the drive in, maybe scared away because of the cold. He planted a soft kiss on the side of her neck and hummed. "Just out of curiosity... How quiet would you be if we were to, I don't know... fool around a little...?"

Eliana

Her smile widened at his comment. "That you definitely have. I imagine with other people too. You're really good at it," Eliana said, running her hand up his arm gently. "But if you wanted to play like that, all you have to do is ask. I'd love trying anything with you." She kissed his arm and then looked up at him. "I don't like it either, and honestly, watching you get all protective is very hot." Snuggling in close between his legs, Eliana found herself thinking one stark thought. How had drugs ever gotten such a hold on her when this feeling she had with him was the only worthwhile addiction? 

Heat surged through her veins when he kissed her neck, feeling the warmth of his lips on her skin. Perking a brow at his question, Eliana tried to look casual as she glanced at the screen. "You know, it's a little hard to say. We may have to do some research on this to find out for sure..."

Ale

Ale chuckled. "I might ask before you know it, babe. And I'll always feel possessive of you, except when we talk about that open part of our relationship." He grinned, his hand sneaking down her chest and stomach. "Of course. It's all about trial and error, right?" he whispered in her ear, his hand now slipping between her legs and rubbing her slowly.

Eliana

"Well, for the record, you're welcome to ask for anything. I've either tried it or I'm willing to give it a shot for you. And I wouldn't hate seeing you getting fucked by somebody. I told Elliott the other day that you look so good when you get off. I think it'd be kind of hot watching someone get you off like that." Eliana's looked down at his hand, followed it as it traveled down her chest and then pulled the blanket up a little higher as she felt his hand press between her legs with a small gasp parted her lips. She quickly pressed them together to keep herself silent, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one suspected anything. "You are so bad," she whispered.

Ale

Ale smirked. "You have? Well, there's an interesting story. And I kind of want to make it happen too." Hiding perfectly underneath the blanket they were protected from prying eyes, as long as they were quiet. "I am? It's not like you're so innocent either. I mean, you've been talking to Elliot about me, haven't you?" He managed to slid his hand inside her pants and under her panties. "Now, how about you tell me exactly what you've been thinking about me and Elliot?' he asked, his finger slowly rubbing her bud.

Eliana

Eliana had never been insanely picky. She was always open with her sexual desires but that was for her. She'd never before felt that urge to explore things that someone else wanted. But Ale was special. He was unique and amazing, and she wanted to do many, many things with him. "Mhm," Eliana said, letting her eyes close when she felt his fingers finally making contact with her already wet folds. There was a quick intake of breath when the sensitive bundle of nerves were touched. "I.." she let out a breathy sigh, "I t-told him, I wanted to see him bend you o-over my.. bed.." Her hand slid on top of his wrist, holding onto him as his fingers moved over her. "I want to watch him use your, mmm... your ass..."

Ale

Ale licked his lips as he heard what Eli was saying, the tip of his finger already wet with her slick. "You'd like that, huh? You'd like seeing some big dick pounding my ass?" His fingers slid further down to her core. "You should've seen Puck fucking me... mm... I couldn't walk straight for days. Is that what you want?" he asked, sliding his finger in.

Eliana

Eliana pushed her back against his chest, a prisoner to the feelings he was sending through her veins. "Yes," she whimpered breathily. "I want to see it. I want--" She pressed her mouth down to the blanket to keep the moan from coming out loudly. Then he spoke about Puck fucking him and God, she felt like she was spinning. Her nails pressed into his forearm as a shiver stole through her body, the movie completely lost on them. "Fuck, yes.. That's what I w-want.." Her thighs parted a little wider, hidden under their blanket. "Tell me... Tell me about it.. please.."

Ale

Ale bit his lip down to stop the moan from escaping his lips when her nails scratched his skin, now two fingers slowly pumping back and forth inside her core, while his lips brushed her ear, his warm breath falling on it. "Fuck, it was so hot... First, when he fucked my mouth with his big dick. I could feel it in my throat. Then he bent me over a car, his fingers, his tongue stretching my hole, but not as much as when he pushed his dick inside. I fucking swear... I saw white, babe..."

Eliana

Eyes closed, Eliana was slowly unraveling. He always knew how to touch her to make her completely fall apart, but more than that, the picture he was painting made her whole body a mass of nerve endings. She imagined Puck, using his cock to push between lips Eliana loved kissing, lips that made her come undone when he pressed them between her legs. Ale's fingers stroked that flame into a raging wild fire, thighs trembling, the more he fingered her. 

"Over a car?" she asked, voice filled with desire at the image. Then Puck's tongue, his fingers, and finally thrusting deep inside of Ale. God, she knew how good Puck was too and thinking of his hips slamming against Ale's fucking perfect ass.. It made her let out a cry that she had to turn her head into his arm, biting his skin to try and keep quiet. Her hand lowered and pressed against his knuckles, closing her thighs to keep the contact close as her impending orgasm made her pulse race. "How.. did it feel?" she panted out against his skin, "When you.. came.."

Ale

Ale used his other hand to cover her face when she turned her head to the side, now thankful not only for the blanket, but choosing the last row at the drive-in to park, and for the loud sound coming from the speakers. A wicked grin curled his lips when he felt her hand holding his down, the pad of his thumb now also stroking her throbbing clit. "Like I was possessed by the best warmth ever... And it was even hotter when I sucked him clean."

Eliana

If they weren't in public, or if she has one iota less of care about ending up arrested, she would have already turned and climbed on top of him. She wouldn't have bothered taking his jeans all the way off. She'd just unzip them, pull him out, and ride his cock until she came over and over. The struggle left her body trembling and the mixture of him sucking Puck's spent cock with the added pressure of his thumb, sent her over the edge. The rush of orgasm engulfed her and she did her best to keep the moans silent but she knew she was failing. Her walls pulsed and clutched a hold of his fingers like they were begging for his release and all she could do was ride out the incredible wave.

Ale

Ale could feel her core tightening, clenching around his fingers as her orgasm hit, his fingers now coated with her slick as he kept them inside and made them vibrate hard. His hand pressed harder over her mouth to quiet the moans, while she let the heat crash down on her, until she slowly became limp in his arms. "Good girl" he whispered in her ear, his fingers still buried inside of her.

Eliana

Eliana didn't know if anyone else in the world got off to the idea of someone else fucking their boyfriend but she didn't give a damn because the image was there, her body was buzzing, and the orgasm made her so incredibly weak. "You.. are fucking amazing," she purred, turning her head back so she could kiss him. Her hand went to his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck. "I'm going to need you to get me home soon or  I'm absolutely risking arrest and fucking you right here, right now."

Ale

Ale met her lips with equal passion when she pulled his head down, and he slowly pulled his fingers out of her as he pulled back from the kiss. "Yes, ma'am" he said as he licked the slick off his fingers while looking at her through hooded eyes. "Let's go home," he said, then after making sure her clothes were tucked back in he pulled the blanket off and they both jumped out of the hood so they could get in the truck.

Eliana

Instead of feeling sated, like she could have continued the rest of their night without jumping his bones, every inch of Eliana's body felt like it was buzzing with electricity. She wanted more, needed more, and Ale was the only one who could give that to her. Once her clothes were situated, she jumped out of the back and climbed in, shifting herself in her seat to add pressure to the throbbing heat between her legs, folds that were already slick with arousal. 

"I really hope you have good concentration," she said. Sliding across the seat as they drove out of the Twilight, Eliana tugged the zipper down on his jeans and pulled him free. She was aching for all of him and didn't have the patience to wait. Ducking her head into his lap, Eliana gave his cock a few strokes before taking the head into her mouth.

Ale

Ale had already drove away from the drive-in when she said that. "About what" he asked, then his eyes went wide when he realized just what she meant. His hands clutched on the steering wheel as he groaned. "Holy fuck, yes... mmm... fucking take it, babe..."

Eliana

The sounds he made, and the words that tumbled from his mouth, just made her want more, and take him further into the back of her throat. Her tongue spread slickness along his hardness as she felt him hit the spot that should make her gag and while the feeling was there, Eliana let her throat contract around him before pulling back to catch her breath. She sucked hard on his head, before taking him back into her throat once more, doing it again, feeling her wetness pulsing with an aching need. Humming with him in the back of her throat, she let the vibrations roll over him.

Ale

Ale grunted and squeezed the steering wheel so hard, he was concerned he could break it. Not that it would be likely for that to happen, but it felt that way to him. He was trying his best to stay focused on the road, to drive slow enough not to get them to crash into anything, but Eli's mouth was perfection, taking him just the right way, and it came a point when he knew it wouldn't be safe to continue driving anymore. 

"Fuck it" he muttered, then left the main road for a smaller, empty one, and parked his truck behind a tree. After turning the motor off he shifted on his seat so that she could suck him at ease, his fingers now grabbing onto the long, dark locks of hair and pulling on them before he pushed her head on his lap and kept her there for a couple of seconds. "Fuck... that's it... take my big dick in your mouth, babe... choke on it... feel it..." Just when he felt she was starting to choke he let go of his grip on her.

Eliana

The fact they hadn't pulled over sooner would have impressed Eliana if she'd had even one small iota of focus for anything outside of what she was doing. As it was, all she wanted was to make him feel even an ounce of the things she felt when he touched her and brought her to exquisite release. She bumped around in the truck when it came to a sudden stop but she didn't bother looking or questioning. Nothing could stop her. She shifted easily when he did and she moved in a little closer, hands trailing his body, moving under his shirt, palms pressing against his thighs. Just as she had pulled back enough to get a breath, Eliana felt his hand in her hair and then she was pushed down on him, her throat opening for him. 

The sudden move had her working to keep from coughing and gagging on him but the words he said made her want to please him in every way possible. Her throat pulsed around him, closing, tightening as she tried to breathe steadily. He was deeper than he'd been before and her body tensed with the rush of heat that fact sent through her. When Ale let her go, she pulled back with a gasp, coughing as she raised the back of her hand to her mouth to wipe at the saliva that strung from his cock to her lips. 

"I love your cock, baby," she gasped, looking up at him. "Tell me what you want." Pressing her lips against his, she asked, "Do you want to cum down my throat..." her kiss trailed to his neck, ".. my pussy.." and then she bit down on the flesh of his collarbone. "..or my ass?" Her hand continued to jerk his cock, slickness spreading along her fingers. "You can have anything you want."

Ale

Ale licked his lips as he watched her pulling a back, a pearly string of slick still attaching the head of his cock to her lips, and when he got a taste of himself when their lips molded together perfectly like they always did he moaned, his tongue scrapping the last drip off hers and the inside of her mouth. "I want your ass" he breathed against her lips. "I wanna fuck your tight ass until you can't walk straight for days... I wanna know I did that, and I want everyone to know I did that..." 

He licked her lips hotly, then they shifted on the confined space of the seat, her hands now holding onto the door as she stood on her knees, just after he pulled her pants and panties enough to expose her bare ass. "Fucking perfect" he whispered, his hand smacking her ass hard, then he bit on them, his other hand sneaking between her legs and rubbing her wet core slowly, as his tongue licked her ass crack and finally slid into her tiny hole.

Eliana

Eliana was already weak just being close to him but the second he said what he wanted, her body went weak. A smile crossed her lips, her eyes lowering to his mouth. She kissed him again and moaned, parting them around a shuddering sigh. "Yes, please.. I want that so fucking bad, baby." 

Turning in the front of the car, Eli let him help her out of her pants and panties, both tossed on the floorboard. The cool air hit her bare skin and as Eli bent over, she looked over her shoulder at him. She gasped at the smack, and the bite, hips rocking against his hand. The way he looked at her she felt like she was a prey, and fuck, she was ready to be devoured by him. Biting down on her bottom lip, Eliana watched as he lowered in and felt the slickness of his tongue passing over her. She moaned, her stomach tightening at the soft pressure on her tightness. 

"Fuck, Ale.." her body pushed back, arching into his tongue. "Mm, that feels so good." Moving her hand back to rest on the back of his head, she kept him pressed in.

Ale

Ale fought with the tight muscle of his hole with the tip of his narrowed tongue, each poke taking him further in until he was finally inside of her ass hole, his head bobbing back and forth, tonguing her ass fully while he kept on rubbing her pussy. His fingers were soon coated with her slick, even more so when she pushed his head against her ass, and he kept going at it, loving the sounds she was making, then he pulled his tongue out and pushed his slicked fingers in, slowly pumping them in and out and stretching her.

Eliana

Eliana gasped, the heat coiling inside of her from the dual stimulation, feeling his fingers against her heat and his tongue slicking her tight opening. Turning back to face the window as he moved those wet fingers to her ass, pushing them inside of her, her body trembled and she pressed her forehead against the window. Every touch reminded her just how experienced he was and that spread heat along her folds, heat pulsing inside of her. 

"That feels so good," she purred, relaxing her body so that he could prepare her. She had been with Ale plenty of times to know exactly how big he was, and just how much he was going to fill her, and she wanted it. Wanted the pleasure, pressure, pain.. it was everything she needed. To be fucked, fucked and used the way he wanted to use her. "Please.." she begged, the need too much to breathe around.

Ale

Ale was aware he had just told her he wanted her to feel him for days, but that didn't mean, not even by chance that he wanted to purposely hurt her, so a fair, but not too long stretch would be good so both of them could enjoy the experience. 

 A grin spread over his lips when he heard her beg, that single word like music to his ears. It was like she was reading his mind. He slowly pulled his fingers out and gave her hole a slow last lick before he reached in his pockets for his wallet to get a condom. He was quick to put it on him, his experience already plenty, and he spat on her hole to keep it fairly slick. He gently stroked the small of her back, slowly guiding his cock between her buttocks, then gave a couple of thrusts to push the head in. A breathless moan escaped his lips when he felt the tight muscle clamping around him, fighting the intrusion out, so he kept still until Eli would allow him to continue.

Eliana

Every inch of her body was electrified like she had pure energy rushing through her veins. She ached for him and struggled against the effort to stay still as he rolled the condom of his cock. Her pulse raced then, feeling him press against the tightness that threatened not to let him in. Eliana told her body to relax, begged it to relax, and she could feel with each shallow thrust that she was slowly opening to him. And then she felt him, the crowd full inside of her. 

"Oh, fuck," she moaned, breathing through the feeling of pressure and fullness. Her muscles tightened, squeezing no matter how much she told them to relax. Knowing that he hadn't moved, likely for her sake, Eliana nodded a second later. "It's okay," she whispered breathily, to let him know she wanted more, "I'm okay."

Ale

Ale could had probably lost count of how many times he and Eli had had sex since the moment they first did it, even if, amazingly enough, he could remember each time in detail, and if there was one thing they hadn't done until this night that was anal sex. But the moment he asked her that, and having the luck that she agreed to it, he realized they had taken that further step into their relationship, which made it a lot easier for him to ask her for something like that. 

And he was more than happy they had taken that step. He could feel her body trying to push him out, a natural response, but if there was something that came with gay sex, that was patience. He could stay calm, and allow his partner to take as long as they needed before he took the reins, literally, and he wasn't about to change that with Eliana. Hearing her say she was okay gave them a small encouragement to move, which meant to push deeper inside of her. He grabbed her by the hips and started to slowly thrust his hips, which in result allowed him to slide further in with each move he made.

Eliana

Eliana may have done a lot, and most of that with Ale, this being her first time with him was intense. Knowing that she was feeling him in a way she never had before aroused her head and her heart just as much as her body. The only thing she remembered was to try and relax, and to try and push out so that she opened up to him. She looked back at him, seeing the look on his face, and bit down on her bottom lip as she watched with lust clouding her dark eyes. As he started to move in deeper, she felt herself parting around his intrusion. His cock, thick and large, pushing another inch into her. 

Her toes curled as the sensation shot up her spine and she dropped her head forward onto the seat, grunting with the way he felt opening her up and slowly filling this part of her that had been so untouched. His name fell in a raspy breath from her parted lips as another wave of pleasure took her, leaving her hungry pussy dripping with wetness. Every push in stole a gasp, breathing in a quick sigh, fingers tightening into the fabric of the seat. He was amazing and the way she felt.. fuck, she was losing it with the way he made her feel.

Ale

Ale kept the same pace for a while, his fingers so buried in the skin of her hips he was sure they would be bruises there later on, and that thought turned him on even more, to know there was just another way in which he could mark her as his. When he finally started to feel her loosening just a bit around him he increased his pace, his thrusts more fast and shallow, until he was balls deep inside of her. 

 He didn't stay down like that on her for too long though, this being their first time doing that, he didn't want to cause any unnecessary pain, so he would go back to pump half his cock back and forth in her, his arms now going around her body, one hand holding her by the neck, while the other reached around and down he belly and sunk his fingers inside her wet core, pushing his fingers in at the same pace his cock was in her ass.

Eliana

Eliana didn't care about quieting herself or her moans. Every thrust inside of her, every press of fingers tightly into her hips, made her whimper and cry out a little more. Her lower back arched, giving all of herself to him, ass up in the air for him to take and use and push deeper into. When his hips finally pressed against her ass, his cock sheathed fully inside of her tight and throbbing opening, she could only cry out louder and squirm slightly against him. "Fuck... fuck... oh my God." Her hand slid down to her stomach before dropping it to the cushion beneath her, holding her panting body up. Pushed inside of her from that angle hit something that made her so dizzy. He was so deep inside of her, leaving her so full. 

"Fuck, baby." Eliana cried out a whimpered moan when he pulled back slightly before starting up a rhythm of her body tightening and then opening for him, widening around the hard cock that she loved fucking her so much. One hand went to his wrist, holding the hand that was on her neck, but as soon as his fingers touched her, pumping into her pussy, she started to rock back against him involuntarily. Her body knew what it wanted and when her hips pushed back to take him in further, she didn't fight it.

Ale

Ale moaned when he felt Eli pushing back on him, his body responding to the way hers was surrendering to him. The way her slick was now covering his fingers only encouraged him more, to know that it was his doing that was getting her like that. "So fucking hot and wet for me, babe... God, I could fuck your sweet ass forever... You feel so good... so fucking good..." He latched his lips on the side of her neck and sucked hard on the spot, his thrusts now harder, every push he gave smacking her ass with his hips.

Eliana

Eliana was lost between both of his touches, having his fingers press so deliciously in all the right spots when her hips moved forward, and then her ass sinking back against his cock, back and forth between both touches that were making her head cloudy with a hungry and undeniable need. She arched back against him, her heart pounding as the rush of heat tore through her from the inside out. 

"All... y-yours," she gasped out, voice cracked with the moan that came from her orgasm starting to build inside of her. "I'm yours," she cried, "it's all yours.. fuck.. Ale.." Her head tilted to the side, giving him more access to her neck. A primal side of her hungry to have the mark of his lips and teeth on her skin. She wanted to wear it everywhere, let everyone see that she was his, and he left that sign of possession on her body. The sounds of their bodies hitting together filled the small space as her hand bent backwards, hooking at the back of his neck.

"You're gonna make me cum so hard, baby.." she cried. "Are you gonna cum in me? Are you gonna cum in my tight ass, baby?" Even with the condom, she wanted to feel him release everything inside of her.

Ale

Ale could already feel the heat clashing down his spine, his balls tightening with that familiar feeling that let him know he was about to come, and he could feel she was about to as well, the way her ass clenched wildly around him, as well as her core around his fingers. Hearing the way she gasped and moaned, feeling her coming undone  under him was perfection. He licked a stripe up her neck, the red brand already present on the skin there, then he brushed his lips on her ear. "Is that what you want? You want my cum in your ass... or your pussy... or down yoir throat..." He grinned. "I'm giving you the choice tonight, babe"

Eliana

The first thought in Eliana's head was one word, yes. She wanted all of it, all the time. She felt so hungry and insatiable when she was with Ale, like she always needed more of him, deeper.. harder.. everywhere. Her body ached to have his fingers be replaced by his cock, thick and full inside of her until he spill everything in her heated depths, spilling down her thighs. But she also wanted to stretch out for him and beg him to fuck her throat until he was twitching and coating her throat with thick ropes of his hot cum. But staying pressed inside of her like this, spreading her open like this, and then exploding inside of her freshly abused hole made her whimper. 

But as her lips parted to tell him, Eliana's words were stolen by a quick cry, her whole body shaking as his fingers and his cock played with her, teasing her, like he was reaching inside her body, grabbing her orgasm, and yanking it out of her. She couldn't stop where she was. She didn't want him to. But she knew what she needed. 

"Fuck my pussy," she gasped, pushing back against him as her thighs started to tremble. "I need your cock inside me." Turning her head to the side, Eliana pressed her lips to his, giving him a quick and heated kiss, purring. "I'm so fucking wet for you. I need you."

Ale

Every word Eli breathed out Ale could feel with the way her body responded, but the moment she said those words, how she wanted things to go at that moment, he had to stop himself from moving for just one second to think carefully about what he should do right there and then. He kissed the back of her neck as he pulled out of her as gently as he could, but once he was out everything happened within a blink. Condom off. Hands grabbing onto her and flipping her on her back on the seat. Her legs spread up and wide, her feet touching the ceiling of the car. 

He leaned in and pushed his now bare cock inside of her, his lips attacking hers as he put his arms under hers and slammed into her hard, not holding anything back, their movements now making the car rock from side to side, their moans echoing through the empty woods. "Fuck, baby... fuck yeah... cum for me, baby... cum now..."

Eliana

Eliana let out a grunt when he finally pulled out of her, the opening suddenly so empty without the pressure of his thick cock inside of her. But everything happened fast, and just the way she needed it. She was on her back then, legs parting just in time for him to descend upon her, wasting no time. One second she could feel the head of his cock against her slick opening and then next he'd thrust into her and her back arched, a loud shameless cry filling the inside of the truck. 

Her voice rose with every hard thrust, her body jerking as their hips collided together, and he fucked her so hard and so right that he'd barely managed to get the words out before the waves started to roll over her. Her moans rose louder, their skin slapping together, and the heat started to consume her. Slowly at first and then all at once. Her body exploded in bright sparks that had her seeing stars. 

Nails dug into his shoulder blades, leaving long and angry red scratches down his body as her walls clamped down on his cock. She was completely out of control, falling to the whim of her orgasm, shaking and jerking, and tightening, crying out his name as she came.

Ale

Ale cried out loud when he felt her fingernails sinking through his skin, his boy enraptured in whirlwind of lust and need that was making him see white already, but he wanted to hold on until the moment she let go, and when that happened it didn't take him long to also surrender to the heat that was making waves inside of him. His cock throbbed inside of her, her clenching around it making his own climax that much more wonderful when it finally happened. 

His hips jerked when it happened, and for just a couple of seconds he stayed still inside of her, his cock shooting rope after rope of cum with every jerk his body gave. His arms were  still holding onto her shoulders tight as he finally let out a long, deep breath, and also the words that came off his lips before he even realized it. "I fucking love you..."

Eliana

Eliana didn't think there could be a way to feel any better from the way she felt now, body releasing a heat that could have turned her inside out. But then she felt him let go, felt him start to cum inside of her, splashing release against her walls and so deeply. When he went ragged with his orgasm, Eliana curled into him, holding him, and her legs tightened around the small of his back to keep him pressed as much inside of her as possible. The warmth filled her, wetness pulsing around him as it swallowed every last drop he gave her. Then she was panting, cheek flushed as she held onto him like he was the only lifeline she had in a never-ending ocean full of secret depths. 

Her lips turned into a lazy smile, still high on the post-sex rush, when he spoke. But it took a second to realize what those words were. Once she did, her eyes widened slightly and she looked up at him, his perfect face illuminated by nothing more than the bright moonlight and stars hanging in the sky above the car. Maybe she hadn't heard him right, or had she? Chest still rising and falling with every breath, something new started to take over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced before. "You-- what?" Curiosity more than anything heavy in her voice.

Ale

It took half a second to his brain to catch up with what his mouth had just said, it still being fogged with a cloud of lust and happiness that was making everything blurry at the moment. But the moment he saw the look on her face he knew just what had just happened. 

What? she asked. What. A million of possible responses came to mind like a flash.  He knew he liked her, and that she liked him, but love? Was there love, beyond all the amazing sex? He was sure she has had her fair share of lovers that had blown her mind, as so had he, even if he was convinced that what they had was... different. But to his recollection, it wasn't only about sex, but at how, what he felt when she died, because she did, before his eyes. The emptiness, the void, the darkness that filled his soul when he suddenly saw she wasn't in his life anymore, and how sad and broken he knew his life would had been without her in it. 

Was it love to him? Maybe. 

 Was she actually ready to hear that? He wasn't so sure.

"I-" he started saying, then he wiped the sweat off his forehead and leaned back up, pulling out of her, and he reached for a package of tissues he had somewhere under the seat. "Sorry. Heat of the moment, I guess. Tissue?" He offered the package to her.

Eliana

Eliana didn't know if she was still even moving, still breathing. Her eyes focused on his face and she replayed the moment that had happened so quickly in her mind. I fucking love you. He'd said it so simply, so easily. Just like it was simple fact and the more she heard those words from his lips, the more she felt something tighten and twist in her chest, something that told her to run. But she didn't want to. The only thing she'd ever run from were the things that were real and that meant... 

 Was it really possible? To be in... love? 

 But the answer was so clear, so obvious. Hadn't she always been in love with him? Even when she hid behind pizza and beer nights as friends. Even when she told herself it was just sex and nothing else. Even when she woke up in the early hours of the morning and just snuggled close to him, hiding in the warmth and safety of his arms. And when she'd told him she had feelings for him and he'd admitted to his own, hadn't she felt this same tightening in her chest? This was what it felt like, wasn't it? 

This was the big one.. love.

Then he moved and she felt like it came tumbling around her. "Heat... of the moment," Eliana watched him move, grabbing for the tissues. Her hands went down to the sides of the seat and she pushed herself up, wincing slightly at the feeling she had from their fucking. "R-right," she said with a nod, reaching to take one of them. "Yeah, I get it," she waved her hand. "It's... it's okay, babe. It happens." 

She cleaned herself off and then disposed of the napkin, retrieving her panties and jeans so she could pull them back on in the suddenly very quiet truck. "I was thinking we could maybe grab um, something to eat on the way back home? The popcorn was good but I'm kinda.. starving after that." 

Was it really only the heat of the moment? He really hadn't meant it?

Ale

Ale knew that if he told her how he truly felt about what had just happened he might never see Eli again. She didn't do feeling. She had been very clear and blunt about that for as long as he had known her. And there he was, spilling those silly words, and obviously freaking her out. "Yeah... It does" he repeated, not that it had ever happened to him at all, but the cool and steady in her voice sounded like 'it better not be' to him, so in his mind that was the right answer. "Yeah, I'm hungry too. Wanna go to Pop's? We can pick something there and, um. go home- My home, house... my place, yeah. What'd you say?"

Eliana

He must have really not meant it, Eliana thought when he agreed with her. She swallowed the knot that had grown in her throat, suddenly feeling like that warmth inside of her was fading into something else. Or maybe just into nothing. What the hell had she been thinking? He wasn't in love with her. But God those words sounded so right, and they felt so good to hear. Eliana nodded. "Pop's sounds great. I could go for a cheeseburger." 

She moved herself, normally at first until that rush of ache hit her and she had to shift, letting out a small chuckle that was mostly just for her now. She pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes at the way he clarified. His home, his place... she'd so liked the way it felt when he just called it home. She'd even told Charlie how much she liked it. But it sounded like he just wanted to remind her whose it was. 

She nodded then and let herself go back to herself and the way she normally acted. It's what it seemed like he wanted. "I think you got what you wanted," she said, "About the not walking straight for a couple days." Looking out the window as the truck started, Eliana stayed mostly quiet for the drive until they made it to Pop's, asking for a cheeseburger, onion rings, and a shake.

Ale

The tone in her voice cemented his conviction on the matter, but what also felt like cement was the lump that fell in his stomach. "Yeah, sorry about that. I can run a bath for you when we get back. Some warm water and soap can help you fell better," he said, his eyes now glued the road ahead. Amazing how three, or in this case four stupid words could kill the whole mood. They stayed silent the whole ride to Pop's, not that it was that far anyway, and when he finally made it to the parking lot and pulled over he looked at her after turning the motor off. "I can could go and get the food if you... don't feel like walking or something.:."

Eliana

She wanted to tell him not to be sorry because she'd liked it. She liked that he had something no one else had, that there was a part of her - or in this case, another part of her - that was his alone. But instead, Eliana remained silent, picking at her nails until they were in front of the bright lights of the diner. She looked in and thought about getting out, sitting down with him even, but instead, she didn't look over as she said, "That would be great actually." 

It wasn't even until he was out of the truck and the door shut behind him that she let herself look at him. Her eyes scanned the line of his back, the bulk of his arms, but it wasn't the same when her mind was stuck on something else. He waited for the food and she couldn't stop thinking of his perfect lips that had uttered such perfect words and then took them away. 

ELIANA: He said he loved me. CHARLIE: And you said....? ELIANA: I said, what? WHAT, Charlie. CHARLIE: You.. ELIANA: I said... WHAT. CHARLIE: He said he loved you...and you said 'what'? Seriously!? ELIANA: Well, it was kind of shocking! CHARLIE: BUT WAS IT? ELIANA: We literally just finished having sex like he was still IN me when he said it. What do you mean, was it? Of course it was. I didn't expect it. It just came out. He said, "I fucking love you." And I said what. CHARLIE: I mean if it was anyone else, I'd say 'wow that was fast' or 'are you sure it wasn't just cause of your golden pussy' but...like...it's you and Ale. You guys have been doing this dance for literally YEARS. ELIANA: He didn't mean it. CHARLIE: Of course he meant it. He's not the kind of guy that says "I love you" without meaning it. ELIANA: No... seriously. I said what, he said it was the heat of the moment kind of thing. And then we got dressed and he drove us to Pop's. He just ran inside to grab our food and I'm sitting in the truck. CHARLIE: Yeah I'm sorry but I call bullshit. You and Ale have had this 'will they won't they' thing going on for years. I guarantee you if you had said 'i love you too' he probably would have reacted differently. That's like someone saying "I love you" and you saying "okay" like I know stuff like this makes you nervous, but still ELIANA: But what if you're wrong, C... What if it literally was just this euphoric high byproduct of the fact that we'd literally fooled around at the drive in and then fucked in his truck on some side road? If I said something.. If I felt something.. Idk, it could ruin everything, you know? And everything's good. CHARLIE: I mean...I have no room to talk. You know how long it took me to come around to admitting the fact that I still had feelings for Dare. And yeah, it could risk everything But can you imagine what doors it could open if he really did mean it? ELIANA: You and Dare have been like.. meant to be from the very beginning. Everyone knew Charlie and Dare would end up together. Everyone except Charlie and Dare. So... what do I do? CHARLIE: Not for lack of trying on my part, for the record. It just took us a little longer to get there than most but we're together now, and we're happy aside from all this bullshit with the Cs I think you two need to have a conversation Maybe not right away, but it's still something that needs to happen. ELIANA: It did take a while but you guys are there and perfect together. And don't worry, babe, we'll figure out everything with the C's. We'll get them back home to you. Yeah that's going to be easy "hey remember how you said that you loved me in the car and then said you didn't mean to say it? well I just thought you should know that even though I asked for us to take it slow and keep our relationship open and shit, I love you too and i'm pretty sure I always have but I was scared of it so I pretended I didn't but I do love you and I want you to love me too because I'm big pathetic needy sack of shit?" CHARLIE: We're far from perfect, but we're happy. And that's way more than I ever had with Aidan. I hope so. I hate that I can't see them every day. I hate that I can't hear their voices. Their laughter. I'm fuckin' dyin' here. Well - one you're neither pathetic, needy, nor a sack of shit just because you have feelings for someone. If you love him, there's nothing wrong with that. Ale is a good man; it would be hard not to fall for him. Maybe you don't need to bring it up right away. Tell me about your relationship with him. Are you guys exclusive? ELIANA: No one needs perfect. I know, Char. Don't worry. We'll figure it out and they'll be back before you know it. They have to be. Good is an understatement. I feel.. I don't know, it just feels right when I'm with him. Like the pieces fit together and they were usually all jumbled around but not with him. No. We agreed to date but keep it open for the time being. It was my first relationship you know? so we can sleep with other people but we agreed to be honest with each other if we did end up having feelings for someone else. CHARLIE: You are definitely right about that. I hope so... You love him, El. He makes you want to be a better version of yourself. Love does that you know. It makes things start to fall into place. Well...do you want to sleep with/see other people? ELIANA: He’s coming back. Text later.

Once he was back not long later, she slid her phone in her pocket and reached for the bag to hold onto the food while they drove back home... back to his home.

Ale

The place was almost empty as he walked in, only a couple of people having a late night ice cream, and Pop had his burgers ready in no time. But all he could do while he sat was think of a way to make things right, or to simply admit defeat and say he had fucked things up royally. The drive to his place was as silent as before, and luckily it wasn't that long either. They got up to the apartment and were sitting on  the couch soon after, eating their food. "I'm sorry. About what I said before. I didn't mean to freak you out," he finally said, after yet another long silence.

Eliana

Why did it have to feel so awkward now? Was she making it awkward by having actually let herself admit the way she was feeling, even if she'd only done so in her own head? Eliana was careful getting out of the truck and walked inside, kicking off her shoes. And it was still so quiet. That wasn't like either of them, and she didn't like it at all. But what could she say? Sorry I made things weird by taking your slip of the tongue too seriously.? 

So instead, she focused on the food, having a couple bites before she picked at her onion rings, peeling off the breading and popping it into her mouth before working on the next one. She loved the flavor of onion rings but could never stand the actual onion. Ale almost shocked her when he spoke and she looked up at him, a blush crossing her face unbeckoned. 

"It's--" She had been about to say it's fine but God, she said, it's fine about so much even when it wasn't and she was tired of saying it so instead she shrugged and said, "You didn't." Her mind had switched to the things Charlie had said when she texted her while Ale had gone in Pop's to get their food. You and Ale have had this 'will they won't they' thing going on for years. I guarantee you if you had said 'i love you too' he probably would have reacted differently. But he'd said it was the heat of the moment and she felt so conflicted, unsure what to say or if she should say anything at all. 

"I-- I know you think it was a mistake," she told him. "You don't... you don't have to apologize for that."

Ale

Ale took another bite of his burger and shrugged, talking only after he swallowed his food. "It's  just a mistake because I know... you don't want to- you don't do that. So, what I said shouldn't matter, because it'd only screw things up." Another shrug. "So you don't need to worry about that."

Eliana

"You said it was a heat of the moment thing," Eliana said, pushing her food away because she was suddenly less than hungry. It shouldn't bother her so much that he didn't mean it but what he said.. calling it a mistake because she didn't do those things. Did that mean he did mean to say it? "Why are you even worried about screwing things up? You-- couldn't. I'm the one who asked for us to take it slow and then got the stupid notion in my head that you meant it when you said you loved me." 

Crap. Shit. Fuck. Well, it was too late to keep this from becoming a conversation that they needed to have. "I was surprised, okay? I was shocked. Because no one's ever said that to me before." She shrugged gently, "And I thought I hated it but then I heard you say it and.. and I.. didn't hate it.."

Ale

Ale chuckled with a bitter tone. "Yeah, what I meant. Like I said, it doesn't matter, because the shock look on your face said it all. You want to keep things the way they are and I'm cool with that." He shook his head. "You don't have to say that, it's fine. We have a good thing going and it'd suck to mess it up." He stood up and went into the kitchen to get them some water.

Eliana

Charlie had said that she and Ale had been dancing the same ‘will they, won’t they’ dance for years. Looking back it was easy enough to see even if she hadn’t seen it going forward. But it felt like this was it. They gave it a try and now they’d pull back. They touched the potential of love and then sunk away from it. Was it fast? Maybe to other people. Maybe to the outside world. But this thing between them had been building and growing ever since they first met. It wasn’t an ‘I love you’ after almost two weeks of dating. 

It was an ‘I love you’ after a lifetime of knowing each other. And this place had been such a big part of all of it. It was the place she’d told him everything about her past, the place he’d made her feel safe, the place they almost lost each other and the place they found one another. Now it felt like the place where things would all fall apart. When he got up and walked into the kitchen, Eliana shook her head. They did have a good thing going, she thought, but that didn’t change what she felt and ever since he’d said those words, she wanted to say them back to him. Her chest ached with the restraint that years of pain and hesitation shackled onto those words. 

“You know what? I think I’m just gonna go.” She stood from the couch and grabbed her bag, tossing it over her shoulder, moving towards the door before he could have a chance to stop her. If he even wanted to stop her. “I’m just gonna walk, get some air or something. I’ll talk to you... later.” And then she was out the door, hurrying down to the street and quickly off in the direction of her trailer.

Ale

Ale was pouring the two water glasses, his back to where Eli was when she said that, and when she said she was leaving he chuckled dryly. Of course she was running in the other direction, even after he had to lie about his true feelings. "Sure, see ya" he said without turning, but the sound of the door slamming told him she was far gone. Sighing, he picked up what was left of their dinner and placed it on the table, thinking for sure that they were done.

ELIANA: Well that was fun. I just goddamn sprinted for the door and I’m walking home because he said things were fine how they were and that he only said it was heat of the moment because I looked so shocked and he didn’t want to fuck things up and.. I’m allowed to be shocked! I was.. I was shocked. I was shocked, Charlie. No ones ever said it to me before. Not in the way he meant it. Or the way I thought he meant it. It was so fucking quiet in there and I couldn’t stand it and I know he’s hurting and I couldn’t handle it so I fucking left like I always do. Goddamn it.  CHARLIE: I mean, things are going to feel right until they don’t. Until one of you wants more and don’t know how to express that. Regardless, I don’t know if I think you’re going to lose him, E.  ELIANA:  What the fuck is wrong with me, Charlie?

Eliana

Eliana’s fingers tapped away quickly into her cell phone, thoughts and feelings and phrases that she couldn’t explain being shred away to Charlie. But even though they were talking, she was alone. She stopped walking, standing in the light of a street lamp, and she knew she could leave. She could continue down the road in front of her, go home, and in the morning she knew that they would act like nothing had happened. They’d go back to the way things used to be and his confession would be lost in the memories of moments that had meant more to her than she ever allowed herself to admit. 

I fucking love you... 

 Grasping her cellphone tightly against her chest, Eliana looked back at in the direction she’d come. Did she really want that? Did she really want to pretend that hearing those words meant nothing to her? That they only served to scare her away? That when she was alone with him, she didn’t feel more herself than she ever had? Tapping another message to Charlie, Eliana shoved her phone into her back pocket and ran. Ran because she didn’t want to change her mind. Ran because she wanted to move faster than the fear that always consumed her. She darted up to the front door and banged her fist against it. 

Come on, she thought. Answer.

Ale

Ale had just finished picking everything up, also putting what was left of the burgers inside the oven, when he was startled by the banging on the door. "Did you forget something?" he said when he saw it was Eli standing at the door.

Eliana

Eliana had been so focused on getting back here that as soon as she was looking up at him, she realized that she didn’t figure out what to say. All the words she knew were jumbled in her head, lost in the rush to return to him and fix this. She stared at him for a moment, willing her brain to think, her mouth to move. Did she forget something? Yeah. Yeah, she did. 

“You scared me,” she said. No thought. No process. Just words flowing. “Not you, you, but... but the way you make me feel. Because I never felt this before and I don’t-I don’t know how to navigate it, and I run away from things I’m afraid of. I know I pretend to be brave but I’m... not.” 

Taking a breath, Eliana knew there was no stopping all of this. Even if it meant that she was going to mess this up. Not saying it would be worse. Letting him believe she didn’t feel that way about him was worse. “I always end up running, like I did tonight but... fuck, Ale, you’re the only person I ever stopped and turned around and ran back to.. the only person it felt wrong to leave.” She looked up at him, not sure how this would change anything but she said the one thing her initial shock had kept her from saying earlier. 

“And I know I screwed up when I froze but... I love you too.”

Ale

Ale feared that Eli had only returned to put the final nail on everything, a sort of 'and let me make one more thing clear' sort of thing, at least judging by the way in which she banged the door; but as he listened to her he stood frozen on the spot, taking every word in, knowing that she had meant each one. Knowing that he had been mistaken of thinking otherwise. 

 A brief moment of wit reminded him they were still standing at the door, and that she had just said all those things from the same spot where she had called, not two minutes ago, and he knew there was only one thing he could say, or more like do. Cradling her face with both hands he reeled her back in the apartment and kicked the door close, and as their lips met with even much more force they had that night, he pushed her against the door, almost as if he wanted to make sure she wouldn't be going anywhere. 

He savoured her lips, his own taste still lingering somewhere on her tongue, which he sucked and stroke at ease, to the point they were both gasping for breath when they finally pulled back. "I lied... I lied. It wasn't the heat of the moment, I swear. I love you, Eliana. I really do. I don't know since when, but I do. And I don't want you running anymore. Stay with me... Let's figure this shit out together, please," he said with a breathless chuckle, his forehead now pressed on hers.

Eliana

There was a moment when Eliana just stood there, looking at this man that meant so much to her, someone who had been a friend and a lover, and now even more. The air of her words filled the space between them and she was sure that were she standing in front of anyone else in the world, she would have tried to backpedal and swallow the things she said. Not this time. Not with this man. She knew without a single doubt that she'd meant everything she said. 

 And then his hands were on her face and they were kissing, her body reacting before her mind even caught up. Her arms wound around his neck, keeping herself as close to him as she could, chest flush against him. She didn't want any space between them - couldn't stand it. They kissed but it felt like so much more than that, like she could breathe him in and when they parted, her back pressed against the door, she looked up at him with something that shone so much brighter than the stars in her eyes. 

He lied, and then he said it again, and she was so happy that a pleasant laugh came from her well-kissed lips. Her eyes closed as she let his words wrap around her. Shaking her head slightly so she didn't move too much, Eliana whispered, "I'm not going anywhere." Her fingertips trailed along his jaw, to the side of his neck. "No more running."

Ale

Ale looked back into her eyes and smiled. "Good. And if you are, we're going together." He held onto her hand and placed a soft kiss to it. "I also meant what I said about that bath earlier. You want to maybe take one with me, and maybe ease your sore muscles?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her and laughed before he put his arms around her and picked her up.

Eliana

For so much of her life, Eliana had never admitted to having those kinds of feelings because the more you cared, the harder it was to take it when someone let you down. But she knew that Ale had never let her down, and that fear of being hurt wasn't coming. Smiling as he kissed her hand, she let the world outside of the two of them fade into nothingness. 

"I'd like that," she said about the bath. Not just the warm water easing her muscles but to be pressed against him, held against his body, enjoying the beautiful aftermath of their confession. Giggling as he lifted her, Eliana wrapped around arms around his neck and then pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. "I'd like everything with you." 

Running away may have been safe but this feeling she had inside of her was worth risking everything for. He was worth risking everything for, and she was enjoying the dive.