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horansqueen · 4 years ago

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Stuck With You - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: If You Don’t Know

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

Tonight we're fading fast I just wanna make this last If I could say the things I want to say, I'd find a way to make you stay I'd never let you get away Get you in all the games we play

So go ahead, rip my heart out, Show me what love's all about Go ahead, rip my heart out That's what love's all about

I want you to want me this way, And I need you to need me to stay If you say that you don't feel a thing If you don't know, let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go If you don't know then just let me go

Let's forget the past I swear we'll make this last 'Cause I remember the taste of your skin tonight And the way that you looked, you had those eyes I remember the way I felt inside And the name of the songs that made you cry You would scream, we would fight, you would call me crazy I would laugh, you were mad but you'd always kiss me And the shirt that I had that you always borrowed When I woke, it was gone There was no tomorrow

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(check the characters page, i updated it with all the characters!)

NIALL

It was extremely hurtful to push her away. In fact, it was horrible, even worse than when I did it in the first few weeks after we met, mostly because now, I loved her, and I knew she loved me too. When she told Abby off, I was a bit surprised. I knew they wouldn't be friends but I didn't think Devon would actually have the guts to say these things in front of everyone but if I had to be honest with myself, I liked it. I did it to her ex boyfriend, she did it to my ex girlfriend... To me, it just showed that we cared about each other and didn't want to other to get hurt again. I also felt like it proved the feelings we had for each other because I could pretend the opposite, but there was also a tiny bit of jealousy in the way we told each other's exes off.

I knew Abby and although I didn't like the way she was acting with me, I was also aware that pushing her away would only make her try harder. She was exactly like a boomerang and even if I had no intention to give in to any of her propositions, not answering was still my best bet. I wanted to tell Devon about it but I didn't have a second alone with her and whenever I tried to talk to her, Abby would interrupt me to get my attention back.

The conversation we had alone in the dark street was rough on my heart and it kept playing over and over again in my head for the rest of the evening. I was lost in my thoughts and even felt bad for Louis when I realized Abby was trying to get his attention. She never really knew what she wanted and to me, it only proved she wanted nothing except feeling special. Perhaps, the way I loved her didn't make her feel special enough but at that point in my life, I didn't give a fuck.

I wanted to talk to Lewis but he was busy pushing Daxia between him and the wall for the rest of the night and when I was about to leave, Abby ran back to me to have an long chat about what she was doing, what she planned on doing, and how we should spend time together again. I also had to walk back to campus, too drunk to take my car, and when I got back in my room, I tried to be quiet but I quickly realized that Devon was not asleep for the simple fact that she was not snoring. She pretended to be asleep though and I decided it meant she didn't want to talk. Anyway, we were both way too fucked to have a discussion. Still, I couldn't help but stand near her for a few minutes, just watching her, as creepy as it sounded. She was obsessing me in a way I didn't understand. I had obsessed over Abby for months, yet it never felt the way it felt with Devon, and I had no idea why.

I woke up early the next morning to go get my car and when I stopped near her bed, she was snoring low. My lips curled sadly on the left when I realized she was wearing my shirt and I took off the hoodie I was wearing to lay it down on my bed, in hope that she'd see it and wear it.

I told her I wasn't going to have sex with her anymore but it was not because I didn't want to. With Abby coming back, it made me realize that perhaps, I was ready for more with Devon, and yelling to her that I loved her had an effect I didn't expect. I could see in her face that she was actually surprised, as if she didn't really think I had these feelings for her. To me it was obvious but perhaps I was not as transparent as I thought.

I spent the morning working on a new song and had to kick myself mentally to make sure I'd go to my classes in the afternoon. I had so many feelings stuck inside me that it was hard to focus on anything else, especially anything school related.

It was only near the end of the afternoon that I saw her and my heart twisted in my chest. It was crazy how much I missed her. After spending so many days together, 24/7, being away from her for almost a whole day seemed impossible but it was still happening. She was laughing with Louis but there was sadness in her eyes and they met mine, her smile fell and her lips parted. She brought her shoulders closer to her face and sent me an embarrassed smile. That's when I realized she was wearing my hoodie and it made me smile.

I didn't know why I expected Devon to be the kind of girl who would scream her feelings. Of course, she had never told me she loved me with words, but just seeing her wearing my clothes even if we were mad at each other told me she had feelings for me. Everyone has their own way to express their feelings. Of course, it's easier when it's clearly said, but words are still just words. Actions speak louder, even if they're made obliviously. She had always been secretive, almost hiding who she was and how she felt. I even wrote a damn song about it, so why was it so surprising that she couldn't tell me that she loved me? And was it selfish to want it anyway? To need it?

Louis made a quick head movement and Devon started nibbling on her bottom lip as I stood there motionless like an idiot. I was thinking I could just grab some food and go back to the music room to write some more or at least, to play something. I knew I could just go back to my room with my guitar but I couldn't seem to clear my mind when I was there, and I knew it would be worse if Devon was there and at the same time, I was desperate to spend time with her or at least, around her. She just moved her hand up as a 'hello' and I did the same. How could you feel so close to someone and at the same time, so far?

I finally sighed and walked back to my room a bit reluctantly. I worked on a school project for about an hour and finally gave up since I was not able to focus at all. I decided to take a shower before to play guitar and a few minutes after I got out, the door opened and Devon appeared. Her lips parted, she held her breath and she quickly closed her eyes, making me chuckle.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" she let out, shutting her eyes tighter as I grabbed a towel to wrap it around my waist.

"No worries, Devie. You can open your eyes." I said, amused. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

She licked her lips and after a few seconds, her eyes fluttered open only to meet mine. She smiled shyly and I noticed some dark paint on her face. It made me realized she painted a lot with dark blue and greys these days and I was not sure it was a good thing.

"Your turn." I just told, walking past her to give her some privacy.

"You can stay!" she quickly proposed. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

I turned around and she looked nervous, nibbling again on her bottom lip. She grabbed the bottom of my hoodie that she was wearing and when she took it off, my heart skipped a beat as I realized she was wearing nothing under it. I knew it took her a lot to expose herself to me like that, and I was torn between giving her what she was clearly asking, or holding on to what I had told her not even 24 hours before. My eyes roamed on her face and down to her chest despite myself. I wanted to touch her so bad it was driving me a bit insane. I thought about sliding hands on her breasts to feel her hard nipples on my palms but just cleared my throat and blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the images in my head.

I took a step closer and her lips parted. It felt like I didn't have control on my legs anymore and I stopped in front of her, looking down in her eyes. I brought my hand up slowly to push a lock of her hair behind her ear and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I... think I'll just go get dressed."

It was so pathetic. I was there in only a towel and she was standing in front of me, shirtless and literally begging me with her eyes to fuck her, but I was about to leave anyway. The less I was thinking with my head, the more I wondered why the fuck I had decided to stop having sex with her, and I knew that the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave. I took a step back but suddenly, she grabbed the towel around my waist and I held my breath.

"Niall!" she almost yelled before swallowing hard. "Please."

I could feel the back of her fingers against my skin as she held me by the towel. They were so close to my dick it actually made my heartbeats accelerate.

"Devie, I can't."

"Niall I fucking miss you."

I put my hand over hers, pulling it away frim me but still squeezed her fingers, my eyes never leaving hers. "I'm sorry."

It took everything in me to just turn around and leave and when I closed the door behind myself, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. My head made a light thud when it fell against the wood and I let out a few curse words under my breath.

My heart dropped in my chest when I heard her sob on the other side of the door but quickly, she started the shower and I couldn't hear anything else.

How could I tell her that if she didn't love me, I couldn't keep having sex with her because it hurt too much? How could I explain to her that I loved her so much that it made me want die thinking I'd never have a chance with her? I stayed against the door for so long what actually took me out of my thoughts was when she stopped the shower. I forced myself to walk to my bed after breathing in deeply and quickly put a pair of sweatpants on and a t-shirt. I sat in my bed just as she got out of the bathroom and I noticed she was wearing my shirt again.

"That's my hoodie." I just said blatantly, running my fingers on the strings of my guitar.

I was sitting with my back against the wall, if only to face her and be able to see her better.

"Oh yea, sorry, let me just grab a new shirt and I'll go get changed."

I frowned a bit, wondering why she'd suddenly feel the need to hide in the bathroom to change but I just licked my lips. "No it's cool you keep it." I sent her a small smile. "Looks better on you anyway."

She pressed her lips together and nodded slowly before sitting on her bed. "Thank you."

I noticed her tired eyes and how sad she seemed to be and remembered the sob I heard through the door. I didn't want to make her sad. In fact, I wanted to make her happy every single day, I just didn't know how without hurting myself in the process, and I didn't want this to be a rerun of the past relationship I had. Abby had fucked me up but at least, now, I knew what I didn't want in a relationship.

I stared at her for a few minutes in silence and she finally leaned against the wall as we faced each other. I wanted to apologize for not touching her earlier but I knew it wouldn't change anything. I could also read on her face that she had so many questions and I was not sure I had the answers. My fingers ran again in the strings as I started a song. I noticed her eyes falling on my hands and I couldn't remember the last time I felt so nervous to sing in front of someone. I was sort of used to it in my classes and I was never the shy type, but she meant so much to me and I wanted her to enjoy everything I wrote, especially if it was about her.

"Someday, it could be more than we intended And we'll be happy that we waited When it's all been said and done Oooh, and you have changed me And we both got what we wanted And looking back it's complicated But we would've happened all along

So keep this open There won't be any more hearts that are broken Hold on, hold on

Don't leave me wastin' all alone Wondering where the time has gone I know it's hard to keep keeping on Don't leave me wasted

Don't leave me wastin' by myself Let's leave emotions on the shelf I swear there ain't nobody else Don't leave me wasted Don't leave me wasted"

I stopped playing and Devon sent me a sad smile, wrapping her arms around her knees and leaning her chin on the top of them.

"It's beautiful." she expressed very low, licking her lips. "Gave me goosebumps."

I wanted her close. I wanted to ask her to come on my bed with me and take her in my arms. I wanted to press her body so hard against mine that I could imagine us melt into each other. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her and hear her say it back. Instead, I smiled slightly at her back.

"Thank you." I whispered and let out a sigh. "You know, I didn't want to hurt you."

"No, it's okay, I'm okay." she quickly replied even if we both knew it was a lie. "I mean, you don't have to want me, or have sex with me. I'm sorry I just got half-naked in front of you, it was wrong of me."

I stared at her a few seconds and put my guitar away to lean my wrists on my knees. "I was talking about last night."

Her traits softened and her lips parted. She shrugged a shoulder and glanced away before looking back at me. "You didn't hurt me. I was just pissed, in both senses. You can flirt with Abby all you want, you're right, it's none of my business."

"That's not what I said last night and you know it, Devie." I pointed out calmly,

Her face changed and she seemed to tear up and I tried to push away the urge I had to go sit next to her and take her in my arms.

"I know."

---

Two weeks and a half. That's how long it had been since I had felt Devon's lips against mine. Two weeks and a half since I had told her that I loved her. Two weeks without much interaction with her. It felt like the first few weeks she had moved in, when I desperately tried to hate her without success. I was longing for her in a way I hadn't longed for anyone in a while, if ever, but I resisted.

It was the weekend and all I wanted was to get wasted. We all ended up in a bar but after too many beers, I didn't even feel creepy to stare at her as she danced. It reminded me of that time she danced in my living room wearing only my sweatshirt and panties, right before we danced together on a slow song. Why did it feel like years ago? Why couldn't I just go to her and tell her that it was alright, that we would just keep on having sex and that I'd push all the love I have for her away if I could feel myself inside her again? I scoffed at that thought and shook my head. Why? Because it was impossible for me to ignore these feelings. They were monopolizing my whole heart and mind and there was nothing I could do about it.

I heard a loud laughter near me and I recognized Abby immediately. I had no idea who invited her but I couldn't say I was happy she was here. I got out of my thoughts when someone put an other beer in front of me and Louis finally sat down next to me before glancing a Devon and then back at me again.

"She's a stubborn girl." he let out, turning on his stool to face me. "Trust me, I tried."

"I'm just meant to fall for girls who don't want me. I'm cursed." I explained before swallowing half the beer he had just given me.

"You know she loves you." Louis sighed. "She's just scared, especially of Abby and the feelings you could still have for her."

"I don't give a fuck about Abby."

"I know, but Dev.. she's heard it before, you know? She doesn't want to go through it again. She's trying to spare her heart."

"I should have done that too." I realized, shaking my head as I still stared at her. "Should have tried hating her harder."

"Yea, that wouldn't have worked."

"Fuck, look at her."

I hated what I was seeing in front of me. Devon was with Mandy's brother and she was genuinely laughing at something he said. I could tell in the way he was looking at her that he was interested and suddenly, anger invaded my whole body and I got up quickly, my chair scratching on the floor and making a horrible sound.

"I'm gonna kill him."

Louis jumped up too, grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him. He forced me to move and it was hard for me to fight him since I was already pissed. He tapped my cheek as my back was now facing them and I groaned, moving my head away from his hand.

"Niall, calm the fuck down." Louis let out a bit too loud. "That's not how you're gonna convince her to date you!"

I was about to answer something when I felt someone grab my arm and suddenly tensed. I turned only to see Abby who was sending me a smile and I just shook my head a bit, suddenly extremely annoyed.

"No! Not you and not now!" I yelled, taking a step back.

My ex girlfriend's smile fell and she frowned a bit. I could read in her face that I had hurt her a bit but I was way too hurt myself to care at all.

"Thanks for your advices Louis, but I don't need 'em!"

I turned around and noticed Devon and Noah were already looking at me. Perhaps I had talked louder than I thought and my eyes moved from one to the other before I sighed.

"Fuck that."

I could threaten Noah all I wanted or tell him to fuck off, I knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't make Devon fall in love with me or want to date me and that's all I really wanted. Anything that wouldn't bring me to this goal was counterproductive to me.

I turned around quickly and walked to the toilets, pushing on the door and leaning my hands on the counter, my eyes closed. I was going insane and I knew it felt worse because I was drunk but I couldn't help it and felt my eyes water. Perhaps, getting hammered was a bad idea and I should have known that I always ended up feeling so much when Devon was closed. I heard my phone beep a few times, telling me I had a text message, but I couldn't look at them. I felt my arms started shaking lightly and I swallowed my pain the best I could.

What was there to hope for, now? What could you do when you felt like you tried everything?

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #niall horan enemies to lovers #my fanfics #swy

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wordsinwinters · 4 years ago

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Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color.

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain.

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them.

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself.

Okay.

Alright.

No distractions.

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal.

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way.

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them.

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again.

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two.

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too.

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat.

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?”

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times.

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us.

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second.

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one.

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?”

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents.

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing.

Flash nodded.

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started.

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god.

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp.

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake.

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition.

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #marvel imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman x you #peter parker #tom holland

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aggresivelyfriendly · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1- I saw Emma Kissing Santa Claus!

Hi all! If anybody is still there/ I’m caught up in this song. It’s given me the idea for like seven chapter- here is the first. MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎁! The rest will be late, like those gifts that trickle in when the glow of the holidays is getting hazy. We need Christmas cheer to linger after this year, so I’m gonna publish as I write! Enjoy! And share!

They talked about it later, years after their lives had taken off into space in opposite directions, the moment they knew.

Well, the moment he knew.

"Wait, what?" Emma asked, looking up from the hollow she'd found between his arm and chest when the December air found the crevices in the windows and chilled their skin. She'd get goose flesh and he'd run his hands up and down her limbs to warm her, then pull the flannel up and over them, no matter how warm he was from doing all the work near their end. "We kissed? When we were TEENAGERS?"

"Well, I was technically a teenager the first time we slept together too."

"We didn't sleep."

Harry wiggled his eyebrows at her and smirked, "Oh, I know."

"Oh my god, I really don't remember this!" She turned all the Christmas parties she'd attended at his mum's house over in her head. Emma figured she'd been at the annual event every year since she was 15 or 16, the age he says he was when they kissed. She has almost three years on him. Maybe she was 14 at the first one. That one she recalls well, She's pretty she still had braces. Nobody kissed her. If her math is good, it's her last Christmas before moving. "No wonder you were so ballsy last year!" She slapped at his chest and he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips.

"Nah, that was more to do with last year. I was just flush and nobody had turned me down in so long I didn't think anybody ever would again."

"I did!" She at least pretended she wasn't captivated.

"You did. At first!" He reminded her and bit her fingertips before sucking them into his mouth. "Made myself irresistible evidently." He wiggled his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes thinking back at his dogged flirting. He'd found multiple reasons to be near her and had found her close enough to the mistletoe and was charming enough that she accepted the kiss he negotiated out of her as inevitable. Negotiated, that was laughable, he laid one on her and it overwhelmed her reason. Emma thought she played it cool enough, though she remembers they held hands for the the 10 minutes after, at least.

She accepted the other things he was offering on the strength of that kiss, and the fact that since he'd slipped his tongue into her mouth so seamlessly, convincingly, all she could think about for the hours intervening was what else his mouth could do.

While she replayed the memory of that first kiss, the one that counted for her, another blurry memory flashed in her mind.

"Oh! Was it underneath the mistletoe, too?"

Harry rolled his eyes, and her beneath him in the same breath. "You were under the mistletoe the second time!"

"I was mistletoe adjacent, at best." She sighed, she meant to jest, but his long lean body pressed along the length of her clouded her mind and convinced her she wasn't tired anymore or too tipsy off champagne.

"The first time, was me under the mistletoe."

"I kissed you?"

"You did." He confirmed with another kiss.

"How'd I kiss you? Like full on?" She was a little mortified she'd kissed little Harry.

Gemma would have killed her. Would still! That was why she and Harry always just flirted at the party and met up at the inn when the wine had everybody off their head. Nobody knew, it was their Christmas surprise. The secret she looked forward to all year.

"Well, you weren't brave enough to slip me the tongue." He stuck his tongue into the corner of his mouth; that was too attractive by half.

"Hmph." Was all Emma could come up to answer with. "Did I say anything?" She smoothed her hands up his back.

His face got dreamy, and he seemed to be reliving something. "Yeah, you told me 'you're getting cute little Styles.' I always hated that nickname, but I felt a little taller that night."

Harry was descriptive, which was funny considering he could be so quiet at times, but he was quick and he knew a lot of words, more than her. He was working on his third language. He would basically narrate while they fucked and it drove her crazy when he'd describe how she looked and felt and what it was doing to him.

"What do you want to ask?" He pressed his nose to the place her collarbones met and she could fill him growing between her legs.

"How'd you know I want to ask something?" He was too observant.

He reached up and pulled the lip she didn't realize was between her teeth free. Ahh.

"Ask." He kissed the lip still imprinted with her teeth marks.

"Tell me about it. Describe it, like you do for me when you're inside me."

He blew out a breath, "Should be easy, I obsessed over it for ages after, before even."

"Before?"

"Yeah, I have had a crush on you since you were 12 and started coming round with Gem." He revealed.

"No, I don't believe it!"

"I loved that you already had your whole life planned out and you were sooo smart and then the next year you had boobs."

"That started out so well." She almost protested, she had boobs at 12!

"I was very impressed by the boobs, you wore this sweater—" she clapped a hand over his mouth.

"No more talking unless it's about that party."

He smiled at her and his eyes went soft at their corners, his dimples were suggestions of a deep feeling. "I think you had this idea, like this was your last Christmas here, in Holmes Chapel—"

She had had that idea. She'd intended to leave for a summer term in Sweden that spring and wasn't sure she'd be coming back. And she'd always loved that party, and Gemma's family. Even Gemma's goofy weird brother who was getting cuter and more confident. "Why do you say that?"

"Dunno," he tilted his head and his mouth flattened out and his eyes went somewhere else, he was looking at her but not the version in front of him. "I think you reminded me of my cousins' when they could first drink. Seemed like you were just throwing caution to the wind, letting it fly. Like you had nothing to lose, cuz this place was about to be a memory."

Emma could only find the energy to stare, she thought she nodded. He was spot on, but she wasn't even sure she could have articulated those feelings then. And she hadn't been that reckless ever before or after that day.

"I'd been watching you, and like I said, had a crush for years, um, and like, you were wearing that shiny top, like liquid silver and your long brown hair was all curled up and your cheeks were red with your merry making and I'd always loved your laugh. You're usually so calculated—"

"That's not a nice word."

"I don't mean it like a bad thing, like maybe a better word would be careful. Like all your moves were preparation for the grand future you were working towards. But when you laugh, it all falls away. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes and you bend at the waist and just lose it. That night you did it a lot." He kissed her knuckles. "Did you notice I was kind of shadowing you that night?"

"Honestly, not really, I was kinda out of it, or maybe really in it instead of 5 years ahead." She always was at least a week ahead in her mind. In the actual moment, she was usually just ticking that day's checklist off to get to the next thing.

"Yeah. I could see it, you were really in your body, and it made me want you more." He laughed. "The only other time I ever see you like that is...ah..."

"Go on!" She jostled his shoulder.

He bit his lip like the imp he was and said, "When we fuck, it's like when you laugh, there's no tomorrow, or next semester, or internship you have lined up, just the next orgasm on the horizon."

She knew she was blushing but she ducked her chin and shrugged. She couldn't deny it. She could feel that when he moved inside her, when they moved together, it was like when she really lost her head and laughed at something. Better, more. Emma definitely did not tell him it was never like that with anybody else.

Not her college boyfriend, or the Danish guys she'd enjoyed over their version of freshers, and certainly not the completely nice guy she'd been dating for two months back in Amsterdam. Not one of them made her get out of her head the way Harry could. They'd be following every direction she gave them from tongue placement to tempo and she'd be observing the feelings as opposed to experiencing them. But even remembering her first kiss with Harry was a sensory experience. She gave him direction because that's who she is, but she's fairly certain even if she didn't, he'd be able to get her off just by watching her.

She wondered if it was the same as her. He was more cerebral than anybody gave him credit for. Maybe if he talked more about the kiss she'd find out.

He caught her chin, "Where'd you go?" He asked with dopey green eyes.

"I'm just trying to remember." Emma lied. "Tell me more, maybe it will come back to me."

"Oh, from my memory of the proof of your breath you may never remember." Emma could feel her cheeks heat. She had really tied one on, she was absolutely rough the next day. Utterly useless.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure I'd ever be here again."

"In Holmes Chapel? Really? You thought you'd never come back?"

"I always wanted to leave so bad, I genuinely thought I wouldn't miss it."

"But you did? You do?"

She nodded. She didn't want to explain that the first time she was way more homesick than she expected and this year, well, this year she wanted him for Christmas again.

He gave her this face then and a kiss that made her think he really was a mind reader, his crystal ball in the shape of her body.

"Not everyday." Take that Mr. Intuitive.

He gave her a smile that looked like a wink and started talking, "Like I said, I'd always just found you so impressive and you were always so pretty. But you came back from Amsterdam different."

"It was all the bike riding," she deflected and ran her hands down his arms to his lower back.

"Nah, it wasn't your body. That's always been nice. You just seemed like you were so happy and it was coming out of your pores."

"With the mulled wine?"

"Yeah! Definitely the mulled wine." He kissed her one then pressed his mouth to hers," Might have been your legs."

She snorted, "See it was the biking."

"You also had them out!" He defended. She had worn a daring skirt. "And maybe the biking." He laughed with her. "You also did that snort laugh I'd only heard through the walls during sleep overs and I was kinda tracking you."

"Stalker." He made a face. "Sorry probably not a joke to you." They didn't really talk about the peculiarities of his job. He was just Hometown Harry to her. Gemma's little brother. Her Christmas gift wrapped in deliciousness the last two years.

"I didn't really mean to, honestly. Was just like water to it's path."

"That's poetic." She teased.

"Hey, I'm a songwriter."

"I'd like to see evidence of that." Emma raised an eyebrow.

"You will." She wanted to ask but he just kept going. "Wanna know the funny thing? I never really had to look hard to find you." He went on. "You always seemed to be in the corners of my eye, like a dream I was trying to remember.

"I kind of remember that." She rolled her eyes and summoned some courage, "You looked different, and I tried to ignore it, but the more wine I had, the more I found myself comparing you to the boy I remembered from two years before."

"Hadn't been that long. I was with Gem when she told you goodbye."

She cringed. "I don't think I really looked at you that day."

"Oof, good thing I have crowds of people to stroke the old ego." At least the laugh seemed genuine though his eyes were a little dull.

"I was really remembering you in your red jumper from two parties before."

"Tell me about that party- we got off track talking about the last one." Last year she remembered In technicolor.

"Where were you the year after?"

"Studying, of course."

"Yeah makes sense." He pinched his lip, then bit hers.

"I remember thinking your jumper suited you so well and—"

"Matched your eyes."

"Yeah." She could feel the wonder of his eyes.

"But by midnight I saw that guy Spencer with his arm around your waist. Went to get a drink and was sulking with my own wine when you passed me. You had this look."

"Drunk?"

"Mischievous." He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip, "And then you pointed to the mistletoe."

"And said, 'caught you.'"

"You do remember!" He accused with a still annoyingly attractive chicken neck.

"I didn't, but I'm having a sense memory now." She widened her hips so he fit in like a piece of ikea hardware.

"Care to relive it?" He was trying to sound nonchalant, but she could see the hopeful blush.

She answered him by fitting her lips between his perfect ones and giving a lighter pressure than she had for two Christmases, waiting for his direction of how her bold move had turned out. He moaned and she sucked just a bit like she suddenly recalled. She really thought that was a wine fueled daydream, she swears. And then her mouth opened on a gasp and she slid her tongue against his and licked into his mouth before sliding her nose to the other side of his. The kiss depended until it was all over them and they would have wound up naked if they hadn't been already.

"This is different."

"We can re-enact it a little bit more faithfully later. It can be your Christmas present." Emma whispered between kisses.

"Nah." He was actually blushing, all the way down. "You're my gift."

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #tis the damn season #chapter 1 #i saw Emma kissing Santa Claus #christmas fic #that nobody asked for

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 42]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Alright. Time for a bit more editing because I decided to just go to bed last night.

Chapter 16

“Well done,” Logan complimented when Virgil looked up at him for approval. It was the first time Virgil was trying to make the protection charms without Logan’s direct help. Logan was, of course, still in the room in case he had questions and the boy had a written set of instructions next to him, but for the most part Virgil was doing it on his own.

“Now,” Virgil said squinting down at the paper next to him, “we wait for 35 minutes.”

“Fifty actually,” Logan corrected.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Virgil said. He grabbed the timer and set it for the appropriate time. Then, he stepped away from Logan’s nontoxic potion station. Logan saw him edge a bit closer to peak at what Logan was working on, though he was careful to maintain a distance. Logan wasn’t sure if this was because he’d been warned of the possible harmful substances Logan sometimes used at his experiment table or because he was worried Logan might not want him to approach.

Logan looked up at him. “You can come closer. Nothing here is very dangerous.”

Virgil nodded and walked over to peer at the boiling pot. “What are you making?” he asked.

“I am once again attempting to invent a potion that will reliably remove cat hair from clothing and blankets,” Logan said, glancing over at Patton.

Patton looked up from the bracelet he was making and stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I can never seem to find an adequate solution,” Logan said.

“The solution is to accept all parts of kitty love!” Patton insisted.

“Or maybe the solution is to exile you from my room for the rest of time,” Logan muttered. Patton chose to ignore him and went back to working on the bracelet.

“Do you want any help?” Virgil offered Logan.

Logan smiled at him. “I’m actually almost finished with this step and there isn’t much left to do but thank you.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. He shifted back and forth a few times.

“You’re well on your way to mastering this potion,” Logan said. “I was thinking that I could start teaching you how to make a tracking charm. I marked a passage about it in the book on that shelf.” He gestured to the shelf near the station Virgil had been working at. “Why don’t you go ahead and read that while you wait?”

“The…” Virgil said. “The green book?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I left a bookmark in the correct page.”

“Um… yeah, sure. I’ll go… read that.”

Logan nodded and turned back to put the finishing touches on his own potion as Virgil walked away. A few minutes later, he finished up what he was doing to his potion and covered it to let it simmer. He looked over to see that Patton had flopped onto his back, still working on the bracelet and Virgil had sat near to him with the book open on his lap. Logan walked over to them.

“What do you think?” Logan asked.

Virgil glanced up at him. “Erm,” he said. “Looks good.”

“Which option do you like best?”

“…The second one.”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Uh… yes?”

“I’m surprised,” Logan commented. “I figured you would shy away from the ones that require your own blood.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “I… didn’t notice that. I would like to not do that one, please.”

“You didn’t notice?” Logan asked. “Half of the entire first page is dedicated to a discussion of it.”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

“Virgil,” Logan said slowly. “Would you read the first paragraph on that page for me?”

Virgil grimaced.

“You can’t read?!”

“Logan, tone,” Patton snapped when Virgil flinched.

Logan took a breath. “I am not upset that you cannot read, but what have you been doing for the past week when I have given you written instructions for the protection charm potion?”

“Not… reading it.”

“How have you been making the potion?” Logan asked.

“I just remember the steps, and if I’m not sure I ask. You’re usually distracted enough that you barely notice.”

“If I had known this, we would have done a completely auditory explanation.”

“Sorry.”

Logan sighed. “You didn’t need to pretend, Virgil.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “Sorry.”

Logan just shook his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for. In fact, you are the one who is owed apologies from many people in your life for a multitude of reasons.” He knelt down to take the book from him. “Here,” he said. “For now, I will read this passage to you while we wait for the potions to finish brewing. Later we can talk about changing my lesson plans in reference to the potions as well as adding reading lessons into your schedule.”

“You… want to teach me how to read?” Virgil asked.

“If you are willing,” Logan replied. “It’s a useful skill to have and opens up many doors.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” Virgil said with a frown.

“If you can memorize an entire potion recipe from start to finish with inadequate vocal instructions, I’m sure you can learn the alphabet perfectly well.”

“Okay,” he replied, sounding a bit doubtful.

“And once we get you to an appropriate level, I’ll let you read a book about stars I enjoyed in my youth.” He seemed pleased with that prospect, and Logan smiled at him. “For now though, let’s read this together.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. Logan opened the book in his lap and started to read. He noticed that Virgil was leaning over to look at the page despite the fact that he couldn’t read it, and so he began to point to the words as he read. His reactions to the words on the page were honestly quite funny when Logan caught them. His nose would scrunch up in confusion every time he thought an instruction nonsensical, and he’d squint his eyes at the words as though willing the sounds and letters to connect in his head. Logan wouldn’t be surprised with his memory if he had parts of it memorized by the end.

After a few minutes of reading, a light weight descended on Logan’s shoulder. Virgil had settled his chin on Logan’s shoulder to peer at the words. Logan did his best not to draw attention to this fact and shot a glare at Patton when he clearly noticed, sitting up to smile widely at them. Luckily, Patton was sensible enough not to squeal as he oh so clearly wanted to. Logan pointed out a picture while explaining what the caption said and then gave a personal antecedent. Virgil touched the page curiously and asked a question about the story before laying his head back down on Logan’s shoulder. They continued in this way until the potions were finished.

Chapter 17

Virgil’s suspicion was growing. Logan and Patton seemed to have something planned. Luckily, whatever it was didn’t seem to be malicious, at least, Virgil hoped it wasn’t. He truly didn’t think that Patton had it in him to be so clearly excited about anything cruel. He also didn’t think Logan had it in him to be cruel, he was just was better at masking his excitement.

“What?” Logan asked innocently when Virgil gave him a pointed look the second Patton left to do ‘something’. Virgil would almost believe he truly wasn’t planning anything if it wasn’t for the way his lips twitched just a bit at the corners. Virgil glared harder.

Logan dared to laugh lightly at the expression on his face. “Come here,” he requested. “Patton wanted me to make you pick out a book for him to read to you tonight since, I quote ‘You’ve gotten to read him all sorts of stories the last few days.’ I attempted to explain that it was not purely for fun, but he insisted.”

Virgil grumbled, but wandered over to look over at the books laid out on Logan’s bed, settling his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “What do they say?” he asked.

Logan pointed to each in turn. “Five Dragons and a Flame. The End of May. A Stone in the Meadow. Or you can continue to read The Never-ending Garden.”

“I want to finish The Never-Ending Garden,” Virgil decided.

“Good choice.”

“Now will you tell me what you’re doing?” Virgil asked.

Logan just chuckled. Honestly, it was like he didn’t know that he had an assassin right next to his carotid artery. “Why do you think something is happened?”

“Patton’s a shit liar.”

“Be careful,” Logan said. “I might just have to tell him you said that.”

“Then I’ll tell him what you said when you accidently dropped the lavender into that potion,” Virgil threatened back.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Truce?”

“On that,” Virgil agreed, “but you still need to tell me what’s going on.”

“It is a surprise. A nice surprise,” Logan informed him. He looked at Virgil’s face. “Don’t pout at me.”

Virgil had not been aware that what he was doing was pouting, but he did whatever it was harder.

“Patton would murder me,” Logan claimed, “but I suggest you try that on him the next time you have a chance. You will certainly get whatever you want.”

Virgil sighed and gave up, figuring he’d learn whatever the surprise was soon enough. He chose to flop down on top of the pile of pillows on the floor that had been laid out already. It was his fourth ever slumber party and the first had only been a week ago. He did not know much about slumber parties, but that felt like a lot.

Goodness, it had already been two weeks. He looked up at the ceiling. He felt safe here. He felt like he didn’t need to watch Logan’s every move as he organized things in his room, but it wasn’t going to last, was it? The king was set to be back in a week. Virgil needed to actually attempt to escape soon. He hated that fact. He didn’t want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to go back. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d figure something else out, but no mater what, he did have to escape, and soon. He looked over at Logan who was slotting the books Virgil hadn’t picked back into place on the bookshelf. Not tonight.

There was a knock on the door in a familiar pattern, and Logan walked over to open it for Patton. Virgil sat up to shoot a confused look at the giant thing that Patton rolled in.

“Ta da!” Patton said excitedly.

Virgil blinked at him.

“It’s food,” Logan explained.

Virgil perked up immediately. That must be a lot of food if he needed that to carry it.

“I know you haven’t gotten a chance to try a lot of different foods, so I asked Mama if I could use the kitchen earlier today and made a bunch of different type of food samples for you to try.”

That sounded like literally the best idea in the universe. These people were very good at surprises and Virgil would not question them again ever for the rest of his life (or, well, the next couple of days he was around them before he tried to escape and either managed it or died a bloody and painful death).

Patton seemed to feed off of Virgil’s excitement, practically vibrating himself as he gestured to different parts of the cart. “We have a bunch of types of cheese and crackers, mini sandwiches, different smoked meats, six types of pasta, and every leftover I could find on this shelf. On this shelf, we have things with hot sauce, things with spicy dry rubs, curries, and things with a lot of peppers. I’ve ordered them by spiciness level so we can what you can handle, and we’ll only go as far as you want. Then this shelf is a bunch of types of cookies, mini cakes, pies, and ice cream!”

“We are not starting with the sweets,” Logan said firmly.

“But Lo!” Patton whined.

“We do not want to make him sick, do we?” Logan asked.

Patton pouted. Virgil honestly had no preference. All food was good food in his experience.

“Fine,” Patton said. “We’ll start with the cheese.”

They had him sit back in the center of the blanket pile and handed him little portions of things. Some of the cheese tasted weird at first and Patton would giggle at the faces of surprise he made, but Virgil managed to if not like, then tolerate almost all of them.

Then came the different sandwiches, some hot and some cold and all of the pasta and leftovers. Virgil eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo long after they had moved on.

“You can have some more at the end if you still have room,” Logan promised with a fond smile. Virgil frowned at him. “You want to try all of the food, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can’t eat an entire plate of fettucine alfredo.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan just rolled his eyes and passed him another plate.

Eventually they moved on to the next shelf full of what was deemed ‘spicy food.’

“Part of this is figuring out what level of spiciness you can handle,” Patton said. “So, tell us when it gets to be a bit too much and we’ll move on two the deserts. Also, milk helps wash the spicy stuff that so drink some if you need to!”

Virgil nodded and accepted the first dish on that rack.

Virgil, it turned out, liked what they called “spicy” food even though some of it made his nose run a little bit. It was kind of fun to eat them, honestly. Some of them hurt a tiny bit, but they also tasted really good. It was strange.

“I am impressed and horrified,” Logan said when he finished that shelf. “Do you… have nerve endings in your mouth?”

Virgil shrugged. “Well,” Patton said, sounding pleased. “Now it’s time for the best part! Assuming you still have room.” Virgil nodded immediately and Patton handed him a plate he’d covered with chunks of cookies he’d torn off. He ate every single one of those and then went through the rest of the deserts. Everything was fantastic and he’d like to investigate a few of the cakes once more, but…

He pointed insistently at the fettuccine alfredo.

Logan shook his head but handed it over. “How many stomachs do you have?”

Virgil did not care to respond, choosing instead to shove his mouth full of pasta.

When he was done with that, he laid back to relax and digest the food, feeling very content. Logan and Patton had also eaten a bit of the different dishes and were finishing up themselves.

“You good there?” Patton asked after a moment of Virgil just laying with his eyes closed.

Virgil nodded.

“Did you like your surprise?”

“Uh huh.”

“It seems he will not be doing any of the other planned activities for a little while at least,” Logan said. “So now might be a good time for you two to read,” he suggested. “I’ll get the rest of the food stored in case we want something more later.”

“Okay,” Patton agreed. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but felt Patton settle next to him. Virgil rolled slightly, so his head rested against the side of Patton’s leg. A hand touched softly down on the top of Virgil’s head and Virgil heard a page flip. “So, let’s see. I’m not sure when exactly you fell asleep last time, but how about we start at the Troll Bridge?”

Virgil hummed his ascent.

“Okay,” Patton agreed as he started to read. “‘Melly stepped onto the bridge backwards while sticking her tongue out at Al, but Lydia’s eyes widened as a large looming figure stepped up behind her….’” Virgil listened happily to him read about the four children. He liked this book. He hoped they managed to finish reading it before Virgil had to go.

Chapter 18

They made it all the way to the big blowout between Al and Melly where Melly got mad and left the group to their fate in the magical garden by the time Virgil awakened completely from his food coma (he’d never actually fallen asleep, or at least he always responded when Patton asked) and squirmed around for a bit before sitting up.

Logan hadn’t been particularly interested in the story he’d heard many times before and was reading a book of his own on Patton’s other side, but he put a bookmark in his book when Virgil sat.

“Want to take a break from reading?” Patton asked. “We can do a bit more later, but we have more than just food and books planned for tonight.

“Okay,” Virgil agreed easily.

“Great!” Patton said clapping his hands. “We’re going to introduce you to the most fun sleepover party event ever!”

Virgil tilted his head.

“Dress up!” Patton said. “Also make-overs. We’ll do you first and then we’ll help you learn how to help pick out other people’s outfits and make-up. If you want to, of course.”

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Yay!” Patton hopped to his feet. “You stay here. Lo and I will get everything ready.”

He pulled Logan to his feet and over to the chair that was the perfect height for doing make-up.

They set up what they’d need for make-up and then Patton instructed Logan to grab the clothes of his they usually used for this sort of thing out the closet that Virgil wasn’t set up in while he grabbed the pieces he himself had brought upstairs and strew them over the bed so they could see anything.

Smiling happily, Patton looked over at Virgil who had stood up in the giant pile of pillows and blankets to watch him with intense eyes. He looked like he was memorizing every action Patton took as though expecting a test at the end. He was so adorable. A rush of affection and a touch of mischief hit him suddenly.

“Hey Virgil,” Patton said. Virgil looked over at him. “Can I tackle hug you into that pile of pillows?”

“Tackle hug?” he asked.

“I run over and hug you so hard that we fall into the blankets. I do it to Logan all the time without warning, but I didn’t want to confuse you.”

Virgil considered the offer for a couple of seconds. “Okay,” he finally decided.

“Great!” Patton did a little hop before launching himself across the room. He slammed into Virgil, who apparently had very good balanced because they didn’t immediately fall backwards, but then he seemed to remember that he was supposed to let Patton slam him into the pillows, and so he fell back on his own power.

Patton giggled when they hit the ground and drew back to look at his face. “I got you!” He leant forward to kiss him on the nose. “Oh wait! I should let you fight back.” He propped himself up on one arm and held out the other hand. “Pinkie promise not to hurt anyone if I let you use the 3rd setting again?”

“Pinkie promise,” he agreed with a grin, linking their pinkies.

“Great!” Without hesitation, Patton did the hand motion to allow the restraints to be in the third setting.

Patton was on his back almost instantly, but he didn’t even have a chance to think about worrying before Virgil pressed a kiss to his nose in a mirror of what Patton had done a moment before. “I got you,” he said proudly.

“So, you do,” Patton agreed with a laugh. He reached up on of his hands to card it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil leaned into the touch and then practically melted on top of him. “Virgil,” Patton laughed. “It isn’t nap time.”

He grumbled something unintelligible into Patton’s neck making Patton giggle more.

“Sweetie, please.”

Thankfully Logan saved him from the unrelenting cuddling by poking Virgil in the side. “I have finished preparing the stations for the makeover and dress up. You need to get up now.”

Virgil made a noise that sounded like a growl, but he did roll off of Patton.

Patton hopped to his feet and helped Virgil up before pulling him over to the piles of clothes. “We pick the outfit first, but you don’t put it on. Then, we do your make-up and hair based on it. Then, we get you dressed and do touch ups. Okay? Pick anything you want.”

Virgil looked over the options, eyes going a bit wide. “It…” he said. “It all looks really fancy and expensive. Are you sure you want me to touch any of it?”

“We wouldn’t be offering anything we didn’t want you to touch,” Logan said gently. “In fact, I insist you touch all of it. Beyond just appearance, making sure the texture of the fabric is agreeable is a large part of this activity.”

Patton picked up one of the pieces of fabric he knew was very soft and offered it to him. He touched it with careful fingers, his eyes lighting up at the feel of it. They had to continue nudging him into feeling the different fabrics, and he hesitated when they asked him to pick his favorite at the end, but eventually he shyly pointed at a dark purple dress.

Patton clapped. “Great! Ooo, I already have some ideas for make-up that will go with that.”

Virgil let Patton pull him over to the chair they’d set up and settled down on it.

29009

Patton hummed. “I think silver and purple make-up mostly?” he said.

Logan nodded and they grabbed a few things from the make-up kit. Logan let Patton do most of the make-up as he tended to be better at the more creative parts, but Logan was the one who gave him the fancy winged eye liner with purple sparkles because he was really good at them.

“You look fantastic!” Patton squealed when they were done. He held up a hand mirror for Virgil who studied himself in it for a long few moments. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really nice,” Virgil confirmed. Patton smiled and hugged him.

“Next hair. We have a lot of accessories. I’ll let you pick from the purple ones.”

He and Logan sorted through the jewelry box full of different hair accessories for the royal family and ended up finding three purple ones. Patton hesitated a bit over one of them, but Logan picked it up and set it in front of Virgil for him.

“Your choice from these three,” he said.

One was a purple feather with little hooks to braid into hair, one was a smattering of purple and silver stars that would weave through the back of someone’s hair, and the last was a string of silver leaves with purple tips that would wrap up the back of a person’s head from a bun.

Virgil thought for a moment and then pointed to the one made of leaves.

Patton glanced at Logan who took the hairpiece. “I’ll do your hair right for that one,” he said. “I know how it fits.”

He grabbed the brush and carefully ran it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil seemed to like the attention, leaning into the touch, and a smile flickered over Logan’s face. Logan started gathering the hair together to make the low bun that would be the base of hair arrangement. Patton honestly did not expect him to speak, but then he did as he started to secure the piece with pins.

“This was my Pa’s favorite hairpiece,” Logan said. “Not the father you came here for, but my other one. He died when I was six.”

Virgil went shock still. “I don’t have to...”

“I wouldn’t have let it be offered if I wasn’t okay with you using it,” Logan said.

Virgil didn’t move as he finished securing the hairpiece. “There,” Logan said when he was done. He picked up the hand mirror and positioned it so Virgil could see. “It suits you.”

“I…” Virgil said. His eyes were wide, and he clearly didn’t know what to say.

“Now,” Logan said. “I believe there are some other pieces of jewelry that would match this very well in the other room. I…” he turned away. “If you will excuse me.”

He turned away and exited through his bedroom door into the hallway. Patton watched him go and then turned to Virgil. “I’m going to go make sure he’s okay, okay?” Patton asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, there’s just a lot of emotions.”

“I can take it out…” Virgil said.

“No,” Patton said. “I think he likes that you’re wearing it.” Virgil bit his lip. “He never really moved on,” Patton felt inclined to say. “This is… a lot for him, but I think it’s good too.” He leaned forward to kiss the top of his head, being careful not to mess up his artfully done hair. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned to follow Logan out of the room.

Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

“Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

“I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

“Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

“That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

“Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

“Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

“That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

“You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

“Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

“So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

“Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

“Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

“I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

“We wanted to show Virgil the garden and courtyard,” Patton said. “He’s been cooped up inside for a bit.”

“I see,” Mr. Deknis said. He glanced back at Virgil. “Feel free to come out in the garden anytime you like. As long as you don’t go about purposefully destroying stuff, I don’t mind you being out here.”

“I won’t destroy anything,” Virgil promised instantly.

“Well I hope you manage to keep that attitude even while befriending the large upright groundhog behind you.”

Virgil looked a little bit nervous. “He’s just teasing Virgil,” Patton assured. “He loves Logan.”

Mr. Deknis glanced back again and seemed to read the same thing Patton had read on Virgil’s face.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Deknis said. “I have simply known the prince for a long time and joke with him in that way often. Logan is aware of that.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, his hand squeezing a bit on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil relaxed a touch.

Mr. Deknis stopped and reached down into a bucket next to a tree. “I wouldn’t offer my apples to people I don’t like,” he said, tossing an apple underhand to Logan. Instead of trying to catch it, his eyes widened and he dodged out of the way.

“You would however throw apples at them despite knowing they have never been able to catch things.”

Mr. Deknis just rolled his eyes fondly, but Virgil frowned and turned to Logan. “You don’t know how to catch things?” he asked scandalized. “You should know how to catch things. What if someone throws a knife at you?”

Mr. Deknis looked… probably the right amount of concerned about that statement coming from a 14-year-old’s lips.

“Haha, yeah,” Patton said awkwardly. “Maybe you can teach Logan how to catch things Virgil, but later. Right now, why don’t we just get the apples and then show you the courtyard.”

Virgil was still frowning, but he did not argue with Patton’s suggestion.

Thankfully, Mr. Deknis did not push, though Patton did have to dodge many a meaningful side eye. He might… need to make sure he did not get cornered by the gardener in the coming days… or brush up on his lying without lying skills.

For now, though, he just handed out the apples, not tossing them this time. Virgil thanked him softly and Patton could see the way the usually fairly gruff man went all melty at that. He even slipped an extra apple to Virgil for later which Virgil perked up at.

Patton and Logan pulled him away gently after that so Mr. Deknis could go back to work, but Virgil seemed happy with the apples and copied Patton at waving goodbye to him cheerfully.

Despite the fact that he liked Mr. Deknis and he’d been nice, Patton still took a calming breath when they were no longer at risk of lying about something and getting caught by the man’s powers. They went back into the castle towards the courtyard.

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

“Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

“Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

36284

Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

“You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

“There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

“That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

“I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

#proofread stories #not writing

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flowercrown-bard · 4 years ago

Text

Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7/ part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 belongs to this

TW: Alzheimers, memory loss, major character death, no comfort at the end

almost 6k words

so I know I said this was going to be the final chapter. Well, the good news is I finished writing the story. The bad other news is it got far too long to put it all in one chapter so there will be others to come. It will also make it easier for you to skip parts that might be upsetting, because there is a lot of angst on the way

While summer had flown by in a heartbeat with visits from the other witchers, tending to their flowers and enjoying their fleeting time together as much as they could, the winter months dragged on as if they had sunk their claws into time itself, refusing to let go.

And yet they too, passed.

The frost that covered the land receded and the storm clouds made way for the sun.

Not that Jaskier could appreciate any of it. Geralt did his best to point the changes out to him imitating as best he could the way Jaskier had always done it, to tell him how it was already getting warmer and brighter.

Geralt doubted any of his words reached Jaskier.

In the mornings Jaskier was unable to listen to the returning songbirds, his face morphing into a grimace when a wave of dizziness hit him. Midday, he fell asleep, always drowsy, always exhausted.

Sometimes he let himself get lead on Geralt’s arm as Geralt urged him to take a stroll along the shore with him, though he never attempted to take charge of the direction or to stop and stare at something that caught his eye.

Other times Geralt put a warm blanket around his shoulders and sat with him in front of the cottage to watch the sea, even though he knew that Jaskier would only stare unresponsively into the far away that held his mind captive until Geralt sighed and resigned to bring him back to bed.

Despite Jaskier’s afternoon naps he was too tired to stay up to watch the sunset as he had dreamed of doing when they had moved here.

The worst part was the silence.

Jaskier barely ever talked anymore, though Geralt could imagine to see a hint of longing to do so every once in a while. His attempts at talking were swiftly thwarted by panting, as Jaskier’s breath drew short and he gave up on it again.

In his stead, Geralt filled the silences as best he could. Those were pitiful attempts, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. His own clumsy words were better than the screams that still sometimes rattled the night when Jaskier had nightmares. In all their horridness, those screams were better still then when Jaskier was quiet, his heartbeat and breathing the only sound that reached Geralt through the door that still separated them each night.

Geralt barely slept, always listening to those heartbeats. Always waiting with bated breath, dreading the moment he would cease to hear them.

He did so now, too. Jaskier hadn’t stirred from his afternoon nap yet and Geralt didn’t have the heart to wake him, knowing that those blissful few hours Jaskier was well and truly asleep were the ones where he was happiest.

Geralt’s hands clenched around the mug he had filled hours ago in hopes that Jaskier would wake and join him in the living room, and that by now has gone cold.

It was probably wrong to let him sleep. When he woke up, he would be all the more confused. The dim light of the approaching evening wouldn’t make it any better. Too often had Geralt watched Jaskier’s eyes that were often so unfocussed, dart around in discomfort and disorientation after sleeping for too long.

But they could handle that. What more was a little confusion to months in which Jaskier hadn’t recognised either Geralt nor himself nor any part of the life they lived.

Still he sat and waited and listened to Jaskier’s heartbeat, a steady drum dictating the rhythm of their life.

Until the beat was accompanied by a disgruntled noise and the sound of Jaskier turning in bed.

With a heavy sigh Geralt abandoned the mug and made his way to Jaskier’s bedroom that hadn’t been theirs in far too long.

When he opened the door, he saw Jaskier already sitting on the edge of the bed, his back facing Geralt. His shoulders lacked the tell-tale tenseness that normally accompanied his distressed confusion. His posture looked almost relaxed and he had his head tilted to the side as he looked out of the window.

Geralt rounded the bed until he could see his face. His heart stuttered at the sight and he froze to the spot. The usually so slack and expressionless face held the tiniest hint of a smile.

The shift in Jaskier as he made to get up on his own thawed Geralt from his frozen shock.

“Wait, I’ll help you,” he said, more to fill the silence than out of actual hope that Jaskier would respond.

He took Jaskier’s arm and guided him until he stood.

For a long moment they just stood there waiting patiently until the grimace that accompanied Jaskier’s dizziness was gone.

Any moment now, Jaskier would hunch over again and let himself be guided to wherever Geralt would lead him.

Instead, Jaskier lifted his free hand and rested it on Geralt’s cheek.

The action hit Geralt so unexpectedly that he tensed up again, sucking the air in sharply, his eyes wide.

“Thank you, dearest.”

His mouth went dry. Geralt felt his lips form words – a name – but no sound came out.

Jaskier’s fingers brushed over his skin, his thumb resting so close to Geralt’s lips. It was too much. It couldn’t – it had been too long since Jaskier touched him like this, since he had acknowledged him as anything other than someone who told him when to eat and who helped him into bed. And now he had his eyes on Geralt – sharp, attentive eyes, nothing like the vacant stares of the past months. He had called him dearest.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice broke around the name.

Jaskier made a small humming sound, his lips tilting up and the skin around his eyes crinkled.

It was Jaskier.

And he looked at Geralt like he knew, as if he had never not known who he was. As if he had never gone away.

“Jaskier! You’re back!” Tears stung in the corners of Geralt’s eyes. He didn’t care. He didn’t have time to think about that, all he could think about was Jaskier being back, being here right before him. He pulled him into an embrace, carefully, but tightly and filled with years of longing. Geralt choked back a sob, when Jaskier’s arms encircled him as well. “You’re back. You came back.”

He didn’t care that he kept repeating the words over and over until they didn’t make sense anymore.

Jaskier’s hand sprawled over the space between his shoulder blades and he could feel the beating of Jaskier’s heart against his chest.

A small huff of air tickled Geralt’s ear.

“I meant it when I said you would be stuck with me for a while,” Jaskier said in that oh so bitterly familiar teasing tone of his. “I am a bit insulted that it took you so long to notice that I’m still here.”

The voice, the words. In a flash, it was too little to just feel Jaskier against him.

Geralt pulled back again, his eyes roaming over every inch of Jaskier, dreading he would flee from him once again into his realm of shadows.

He stayed.

After months, years, of Geralt waiting for him to come back, of having no hope of that ever happening, he was here now, beautiful as the day he had first seen him.

It was cruel. It was a blessing.

Geralt was no fool. He didn’t believe in miracles and he knew better than to hope that this was anything other than a last moment of unexpected happiness before the world would shatter around him for good.

Jaskier’s eyes drifted back to the window and the soft red light of the sky that even through the glass engulfed Jaskier’s face in warm colours. Geralt’s heart clenched painfully at the loss of the endless blue on him, until the smile that curled Jaskier’s lips grew warmer.

“Can we watch the sunset?” Jaskier asked, his voice raspy and out of breath, but pushing through. “Like we used to?”

“Of course.” Not a hint of hesitation made it into Geralt’s voice. This was what Jaskier had wanted all those years ago, when Geralt had told him they could leave the Path behind together. This beautiful dream that for some incomprehensible reason they were allowed to have.

On their way out Geralt grabbed the worn blanket off the armchair and laid it over Jaskier’s shoulders once they sat down on their bench overlooking the sea.

Jaskier huffed and huddled closer, lifting one corner of the blanket to let Geralt under it as well. Something swelled in Geralt’s heart as they sat pressed together like this, shielded from the world by their blanket and the feeling of having the other so close.

Geralt’s eyes were trained on Jaskier, unable to look away and miss even the slightest shift in his expression.

Too often had Jaskier stared straight ahead while Geralt had been searching his gaze. And yet this was the first time in far too long that Jaskier’s eyes darted back to Geralt, despite clearly not having seen his fill of the red sky yet.

“The sunset is over there, love,” Jaskier said and playfully nudged Geralt with his shoulder, the action making Geralt’s heart speed up. “You really should look at it. You never know when you will see a sunset that beautiful again.”

Geralt swallowed thickly, his throat painfully tight. “There will be other sunsets.”

There won’t be another Jaskier and with every beat of his fragile heart Geralt feared more and more that he would go down with the sun, only that Jaskier wouldn’t get to rise again come the morning.

Jaskier’s hand found his as he turned away once more, the light of the sinking sun painting his cheeks in warm red.

“Would you describe it for me?” Geralt asked softly.

At his words, Jaskier’s expression brightened, his smile shining warmer than the sun ever could.

“Like you described the sunrises when you were hunting alone?”

Geralt huffed out a laugh. “I would hope you could do better than me, bard.”

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Is that a challenge I hear?”

“Afraid you would lose?”

It was so easy to talk like this, so right. To tease each other as if no time had passed since they had last done so, as if they had all the time in the world left to do so.

Without any further preamble, Jaskier began to talk in earnest. His voice didn’t hold the tone that could command a room filled with an enraptured audience. Instead his voice was soft and gentle and willing to crack with excitement, perfect imperfections plain to see. As he painted pictures with his words of the towering clouds coloured by wine and damasked roses, the way the sun reflected on the sea, looking almost like Geralt’s eyes, he sounded like a man in love.

In love with the world he described almost as much as with the man he was describing it to.

Geralt hadn’t dared hope he would ever get to hear Jaskier speak like that again.

Despite his breath becoming short, Jaskier kept talking until eventually the last rays of the sun left his face and his voice died down.

“You missed it,” Jaskier said quietly.

“I think watching you see it was the best way to experience it.”

“Did you see it then?” Jaskier asked, something strange in his voice. “I had always hoped I could help you see it, but I’m not so sure…”

Geralt hesitated, his brows drawn together in thought. For a reason he couldn’t name Jaskier’s words weighed heavy in the air. A short answer wouldn’t do.

“Maybe…” Geralt broke off, only to start anew, “maybe I can’t see quite yet. But you made me look. I never stopped to look before.”

“You will continue to do so, won’t you?”

Geralt couldn’t answer truthfully, couldn’t bring himself to think about it.

“I have you to tell me about it, don’t I?” he said instead, the words sounding hollow, even in his own ears, but Jaskier snuggled closer, turning to face him again.

“I sure hope so.”

Geralt answered with a tense smile that melted into a real one when Jaskier nestled his head beneath his chin.

With every breath Geralt could feel ghost across his skin, his tenseness subsided. Nothing could chase away the dread of what was bound to happen far too soon, but Jaskier’s presence beside him was comforting and made Geralt appreciate every moment they had left together.

The quiet that had settled over them with the darkness was calming. It was filled by Jaskier’s soft hums and the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

Geralt’s thumb traced lazy patterns on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Can you talk to me?” he asked eventually.

Jaskier looked up at him, but didn’t lift his head from where it was laying on Geralt. “What about?”

“Anything.” Geralt swallowed. “I just want to hear your voice.”

He could feel the smile that flitted across Jaskier’s face on his skin, followed by a quick kiss on his chin.

“How about I talk about the stars?”

Geralt snorted, but made no effort to keep the fondness out of his voice. “Still a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

“Naturally. I’m still a poet, am I not?”

The words spoken with such conviction as if Jaskier had never put down his quill made Geralt’s heart soar. He couldn’t form words, only nod in reply.

“I never could see the stars when I was in Oxenfurt. There was too much light,” Jaskier said in a light tone that couldn’t hide his longing.

“You loved that city,” Geralt said and tightened his embrace. “It was all loud and bright and colourful and filled with people who could appreciate your poetry the way it was meant to be celebrated.”

“Of course I loved it. Doesn’t mean I never missed the stars.” A thumb brushed over the knuckles of Geralt’s free hand. “It was better when you were there with me.”

Geralt huffed out a laugh. “You mean the one winter you made sure my travels would be delayed until the pass to Kaer Morhen was snowed in so I was forced to go to Oxenfurt with you?”

“I did no such thing,” Jaskier said with an impish lull to his voice that made Geralt’s chest rumble with an answering laugh.

After a brief pause, Geralt relented. “It was nice. Staying there with you.”

“Hmm.” Geralt could hear the smile in Jaskier’s voice. “Winter in Kaer Morhen was nice too. But can I tell you a secret?”

Geralt hummed, asking Jaskier to go on without words.

“I enjoy our winters here too. When it’s just the two of us.”

Geralt’s throat was too tight to answer, but he pressed a kiss against the crown of Jaskier’s head, letting his lips linger there.

Jaskier continued. “Actually, I think this, this moment right now, is pretty damn perfect.” He pulled back from Geralt a bit and tilted his head back until all he could see was the night sky above them. “We are lucky there are not too many clouds today. Perfect for the sunset but not enough to cover the stars.”

Geralt’s brows furrowed and his chest tightened painfully. “Can you… Jaskier, can you even see the stars? Your eyes…”

“No. I cannot. But that’s alright. I still know they are there.” Geralt could almost imagine seeing them reflected in Jaskier’s eyes. “Just like in Oxenfurt. Did you know that sometimes when we were separated for the winter I looked at the constellations you showed me – especially the one that looked like a man with a sword - and think of you?”

“You just said you couldn’t see the stars in the big cities.” A smirk curled his lips. “And even if you did, we both know you were always horrible at finding the constellations.”

“That’s not the point.” Jaskier swatted at his arm with a mock- offended gasp. “As if I actually needed to see some constellation to think about you. But the thought was nice. You can’t deny that it is romantic to see your beloved in the world around you.”

“One might say it’s unreasonable.” Geralt’s reply held no heat. He only followed the steps of the dance they had danced for years now, the dreamer and the witcher. “I’d rather see my beloved in person.”

“Well, I’m here now, am I not?”

Geralt was quiet for a while, before searching the sky, his eyes finding what he was looking for within seconds. He pointed at the stars, guiding Jaskier’s eyes that were unlikely to see what he was pointing at, but following him anyway. “Over there. That’s the warrior constellation.”

Jaskier’s eyes brightened and he tipped his head to the side, as if contemplating what he couldn’t even see. “The sword could also be a lute, don’t you think?”

Geralt huffed. “They are just stars. They can be whatever artists and dreamers want to see in them.”

“A lute then,” Jaskier said again with pride in his tone. “For when you look at it. And a sword for when I do.”

Geralt grunted in false annoyance.

“Come on,” Jaskier poked a finger into Geralt’s chest. Geralt caught his hand, holding it there. “I know you like that idea.”

Geralt eyed Jaskier from the side, taking in the teasing glint in his eyes that said he wouldn’t back down.

Geralt sighed in surrender. “Fine. Maybe I do.”

“Wonderful. And as a price for my brilliant idea, I demand a dance.”

Geralt’s eyebrows shot up. “Now?”

“When else?”

Jaskier tugged on the hand Geralt was still holding.

“Aren’t you tired? I would have thought you wanted to go to bed.”

Jaskier smirked. “When has the late hour ever kept me from dancing? You can complain all you want but you and I both know that you can’t say no when I ask you for a dance.” When Geralt put up token resistance, Jaskier added, “Geralt, my dearest, loveliest witcher. You accompanied me to more than one ball. What is one dance under the moonlight?”

“It’s sappy, is what it is,” Geralt grumbled, but stood up, pulling Jaskier with him. The blanket fell from their shoulders to the ground, as they lifted their arms to lay them around one another.

What they did could hardly be described as dancing. Even a poet as talented as Jaskier wouldn’t be able to spin romantic tales about it.

There was no music and they were barely even moving. Geralt had to support Jaskier, his grip on his waist tighter than it would be in a normal dance to hold him up and Jaskier hung on his neck more for balance than anything. Their feet where stumbling and clumsy.

From the look in Jaskier’s eyes, this was the most perfect dance he could imagine. Nothing like balls and banquets and the performances that came with it.

This was just Geralt and Jaskier, holding each other and barely swaying to the sound of the ocean instead of a ballad.

Jaskier’s head came to rest on Geralt’s heart and even their small shuffling movements stopped as Jaskier’s hands dropped from Geralt’s shoulders, finding Geralt’s hands and tangling them into each other.

Still he was leaning his head on Geralt’s shoulder, like it belonged there.

For a moment that stretched into eternity, they just stood there unmoving, without the need to break this fragile moment with words.

Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hands gently. “I never thought there would ever come a day that I can’t even dance without someone else holding me up.” No bitterness was woven into his words. “You become so helpless with age…” His voice trailed off, but he caught himself. “Thank you, Geralt.” He looked up, every shift in his expression speaking of sincerity and infinite fondness. “For being here and helping me when I’m helpless. For making me happy.”

Something ugly squirmed inside of Geralt and he tightened his jaw, looking aside. “You weren’t always happy.”

“I am now. There is nowhere I would rather be right now than here with you. You make me happy.” A wistful note clung to his words. “Just like I used to make people happy with my songs. I miss that.”

Geralt’s eyes snapped back to Jaskier’s. “You said that before. Years ago, you said that. And you are wrong. You mde me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Jaskier’s gaze softened and something Geralt didn’t dare name shone in his eyes.

Without meaning to, Geralt’s face hardened, earning him a chuckle from Jaskier.

“Ah, that face.” Jaskier stood on his toes, chancing a quick peck at the corner of Geralt’s lips. “I missed that face. Tell me, what brilliant idea of mine are you going to say ‘no’ to now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” Jaskier grinned. “If I recall correctly you once said that you always made that face because you knew exactly what I was going to ask of you.” He left a pause for Geralt to reply, which Geralt let pass without speaking up. Jaskier filled it for him. “I want to ask you to continue to be happy.”

Geralt’s insides ran cold. He didn’t want to answer and yet he couldn’t stop the broken words from falling from his lips. “I don’t know if I can.”

“I do,” Jaskier said with total conviction.

“How?”

“Because, Geralt of Rivia, my dearest witcher who laughed with me and listened to my songs and agreed to dance under the night sky,” Jaskier stepped impossibly closer. “I know who you are.”

The words, so reminiscent of the first time Jaskier had ever spoken to him resonated through every fibre of Geralt’s being. Even now, at the end of all things, Jaskier knew him. Better than he had let anyone know him.

“If I had one wish,” Jaskier said, lifting his eyes back to the sky, “if I saw a shooting star or had a dandelion with me, I would let it pass by without making a wish. I don’t have to. I have everything here that I could want and I know you will have it too.”

“You have everything here…” Geralt repeated the words as if they were a confession. “So it worked? This place has become what you wanted it to be?”

Jaskier’s smile was bright enough to light up the night. “There is no place I would rather be. Though… anywhere would have been home as long as it was with you.” Jaskier’s eyes dropped to their joined hands. “Do you think the others are still together? Lambert and –“

“Yes,” Geralt said, before Jaskier could finish. “Kaer Morhen is still snowed in. Our family is together.”

“Good.” Jaskier gave a small smile. “That’s good. I don’t want them to be lonely. And you can find them easier like this.”

“Jaskier-“ The name was a plea on Geralt’s lip, though he couldn’t form any other words to beg. He too looked at their hands, still intertwined. Still holding onto each other for dear life.

Don’t let go. Please, don’t let go. Not yet.

Despite his silent pleas, Jaskier slipped on hand free of Geralt’s grip, making to lift it again to Geralt’s face, but Jaskier faltered, wincing.

“Jaskier!” A spike of panic flared up in Geralt. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, dearest,” Jaskier said through a thinly veiled grimace. “Just… I think my joints didn’t appreciate me dancing and standing up for so long.”

“Of course. Let’s go back inside. I should have some more of Yennefer’s medicine in there.”

Jaskier pulled at face, but mirth glimmered in his eyes. “Don’t tell her I said that, but sometimes I am really glad that I got to know her after all.”

With these words, he made to turn towards the cottage.

Geralt didn’t let him get far, before in the spur of the moment, he scooped him up, one arm beneath his knees and one around his middle.

Jaskier let out a delighted little shout when he was lifted and pressed against Geralt’s chest.

“I’m not that frail. You don’t have to carry me, you know.”

“I know,” Geralt said with the hints of laughter in his voice. “But I want to.”

How could he not want to when this made Jaskier’s eyes twinkle with delight and throw his head back in a laugh? How could he resist holding Jaskier and feeling his arms around his neck again and the soft stroking of the hair that got caught in Jaskier’s fingers?

Jaskier had always been beautiful but there was something about him now, grinning and short of breath and lightly trembling and yet still clinging to Geralt as if he never wanted to let go that made him even more radiant than ever before.

Once in the cottage, Geralt sat Jaskier back down on the bed, which Jaskier immediately claimed, burrowing himself in the blanket and watching Geralt with the one eye that peeked out as he went looking for the medicine.

Geralt’s search was interrupted by an outraged cry.

“You traitor!” Geralt turned around to find Jaskier pointing at something peeking out of a box in the corner of the room. “You told me you would get rid of the scarf! Really, it is time to throw that thing out.”

Geralt snatched the scarf up together with the medicine and went over to Jaskier.

“Never,” he said with a grin and wrapped the scarf around Jaskier’s neck, who fought tooth and nail to get it off. Eventually he gave up with a huff.

“You are insufferable. I love you.”

He shot Geralt a mock glare, only softening when Geralt took mercy on him and threw the scarf back where it came from.

Jaskier laughed triumphantly at the action and swallowed the medicine Geralt held out for him.

It took a while for it to take effect, but bit by bit, the grimace smoothed out and Jaskier relaxed into the blankets.

More out of routine than anything else, Geralt straightened the blanket over Jaskier, so that he wouldn’t get tangled in it.

He paused, his heart speeding up. For the first time in months, he was allowed to brush his hand over Jaskier’s hair again, kiss him again.

As he did so, Jaskier didn’t hesitate even a moment, before placing a kiss on each of Geralt’s knuckles in lieu of the single kiss he used to give him.

“What did I do to deserve that?” Geralt asked, the humour in his voice not nearly enough to hide the tremor that came with the emotion that threatened to spill over.

Jaskier didn’t answer, instead scooting over a bit and pointedly looking at the space next to him that had been empty for far too long.

“Lie with me?”

Geralt’s heart was racing, as he obliged. It was foreign and achingly familiar lying next to Jaskier again, like a hug after being apart for too long.

Jaskier turned so he was facing him, his eyes tracing every inch of Geralt’s face as if he wanted to burn it into his memory.

A yawn interrupted his task, but he fought to keep his eyes open.

“You don’t have to stay awake for me,” Geralt said, though his blood began to freeze at the thought of what might happen if Jaskier closed his eyes. “It’s alright if you want to sleep. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Jaskier shook his head weakly. “Not yet. I want to talk for a bit longer. I want to listen to you speak.” Fingers reached out, smoothing over Geralt’s brow and coming to rest near his lips. “I always loved it when you talked.”

Geralt’s lips quirked up. “Can’t say the same about you.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “Careful. I might take that as a challenge and talk your ear off until you love the sound of my voice.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

As if there was anything Geralt could want more than to hear Jaskier’s speak until he ran out of words.

But Jaskier got strangely quiet. Geralt’s heart beat frantically, as Jaskier’s eyes drifted away from him and towards the door.

His breath came out in a sharp exhale of relief, when Jaskier spoke again.

“There is something. I don’t know if you remember, but a while ago I started writing something. I put it away, hid it behind my notebooks. I didn’t want you to find it too soon, but I told you I would let you read it when it was time. I think –“ his voice broke off, his thumb caressing Geralt’s cheek so tenderly it almost hurt. “I think it’s time now.”

Geralt’s brows knitted together and he couldn’t keep himself from nestling into Jaskier’s soft touch.

“Should I get your writing now?” He asked, though the thought of leaving Jaskier for even a moment felt utterly wrong.

“No.” Jaskier leaned in closer until his forehead was resting against Geralt’s. “Stay with me for a bit. Just a little longer.”

The unspoken We might not have a lot of time left together hang heavily above them.

When Geralt had heard Jaskier play the lute for the last time, he hadn’t known he wouldn’t hear it again. When he had taken his final bow in front of an audience, Geralt had assumed more would follow. Again and again, he had witnessed Jaskier’s last times unknowingly.

There was no such ignorance now. Geralt knew what this was. They both did.

Almost unnoticeably, Jaskier’s lips began to tremble and his chin started quivering.

“Hold me?” The request sounded so small and yet there was no doubt in Jaskier’s voice that Geralt would do as he asked, that he would do anything if it would make this easier for Jaskier.

Geralt’s arms wrapped around him, holding him impossibly close. Jaskier melted into his embrace, clung to Geralt as if he was the only thing left in his world.

With one hand, Geralt cradled Jaskier’s head. “It’s alright, Jaskier. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

He had said it before. Almost the exact same words in a situation that had been almost the same and yet was nothing like it. This time, his reassurance wasn’t a lie.

Last time, Geralt had made mistakes he wouldn’t been able to forgive himself for if he made them again. He had run, shouted, panicked.

None of that would help him now. He was done running from what he couldn’t possibly outrun.

He has had nightmares about this. He had dreaded this. But now that the inescapable monster had finally reached him with its claws and as it sank them into Geralt’s heart it felt strangely light. Freeing. Calm.

There was nothing he could do but hold Jaskier in his arms and whisper sweet words of comfort into the night.

Unlike last time, when Jaskier lifted his head to look at him with tired eyes, Geralt smiled at him. Jaskier traced his smile with a finger, a look of awe on his face.

The touch left a trace of heat in its wake, stirring Geralt out of his thoughts.

“I believe you wanted to prove something to me?”

Jaskier let out a quiet laugh. “So eager to hear me talk? I think that is proof enough that you love my voice.”

“Not only your voice. I love you, Jaskier,” Geralt said, pressing a kiss against the finger on his lips. He lifted his eyes until all he could see was the warmth in Jaskier’s. “Talk to me anyway?”

Jaskier’s expression softened impossibly. “Alright. How about I tell you the story of how I met the man I fell in love with?”

Geralt hummed, his lips stretching into a smile. “That sounds lovely.”

“It all began in Posada. Maybe it was destiny, maybe it was just a tired horse and an empty bag of coin that led to the fateful meeting of the brooding witcher and the celebrated bard that left his adoring audience for a chance to follow this mysterious stranger.”

Geralt snorted. “That’s not how it happened,” he said with amusement evident in his tone.

“Oh hush, you,” Jaskier said, his tone rivalling Geralt’s. “But fine. Here’s how it really went…”

Despite the familiarity of the story, or maybe because of it, Geralt didn’t let the words wash over him. He hung on Jaskier’s every word, relishing in the way Jaskier’s expressions shifted as he told the tale. This time around, there were no exaggerations, no embellishments. Only the story of two lonely people finding comfort in each other that would grow into something more precious than either of them could have planned for.

There was something about the way Jaskier told it that made it seem like he was coming to life along with the world he painted in his words.

Words spoken a long time ago came back to Geralt as he watched Jaskier. He was happy. Himself. And so much more.

This was Jaskier, even when he had to blink more and more to keep his eyes open, when his voice became quieter and when yawns interrupted his story.

Without thinking about it, Geralt picked up the story when Jaskier’s voice trailed off again.

He could feel Jaskier smile against him, could hear his heartbeat pick up as Geralt shared with him thoughts he had never before voiced quite like this, about how he had fallen in love – slowly at first, then so fast that he wouldn’t have been able to stop it if he tried - with a smile, a laugh, silly little songs and touches so casual as if Geralt wasn’t something to be feared but cherished. He could feel Jaskier’s arms tighten around him when he whispered quiet confessions in the form of a story.

Geralt continued talking even as Jaskier’s breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t let the story stand unfinished, even if Jaskier couldn’t hear it anymore. Maybe the faint sound of Geralt’s words was enough to gift Jaskier with dreams of their years together.

When Geralt’s voice quieted down as well, the only sound left was Jaskier’s heartbeat.

Geralt didn’t sleep that night.

He buried his face into Jaskier’s neck and held him tight, letting Jaskier’s breaths brush over his hair and listening to his heartbeat as he had done every night for the past years.

He listened to the steady beat, the rhythm of their life they had built together.

Until it stopped.

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

Text

BTBY Ch. 11

Story Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Previous Chapter found here

Chapter summary: A bedside hospital chat

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“I feel so stupid for not even noticing.” Ben runs his hand down his face. “She never said anything to me about it.”

“Didn’t you guys agree that you didn’t care about it?” RM asks,

“Yeah, it’s just...so weird that it actually happened.”

“Well, she told me when she met me that she already had a boyfriend and wasn’t interested. I’m sure she just didn’t want to worry you,”

“I’m sorry. When did you say the two of you met?” Ben asks, seeming to ignore the part where RM said [Y/N] had rejected her soulmate for him.

“About 6 months ago. She helped us prep for an award show.”

“Huh. Well.” Ben just stands there opening and closing his mouth like a fish, “I’ve uh been here for days. Do you mind staying here while I go home and grab a real shower?”

“No, of course not. Grab some real sleep too, you look like you need it.”

Ben wanders off in a daze. He seemed like a perfectly normal guy. RM wanders over to the nurse station to inquire about your doctor and their whereabouts. He is informed that your main Doc is out until tomorrow morning but they will page him and let him know [y/n]’s soulmate is here.

Namjoon goes back into your hospital room. The blood pressure cuff had just done it’s semi-regular squeezing. Nothing had changed. He pulls up a chair next to you. He didn’t feel any emotions rolling off of you right now. Maybe you were dreaming. Namjoon hears a light knock at the door, it was Taehyung with some coffee and water. “I thought I’d see if you wanted either of these.”

“Yeah, thanks. You can come in.” RM gestures to the other chair in the room.

Taehyung sits the drinks down on a table.

“Where’s her fiancé? He asks looking around.

“He went home to shower and hopefully rest. He looks like he needs it.” Namjoon awkwardly fidgets with his hand.

“How did he take everything?”

“He seemed very weirded out by it. I guess she never told him that she met me. And he never noticed her wrist.”

“People see what they want to see,” Taehyung remarked, snacking on some vending machine chips. Namjoon pondered on this for a moment and turned back to look at you. You look like you’re sleeping peacefully. He’s thankful for whatever pain medication they put you on.

“I’m going to run back to the hotel for a bit and check in with the team. Do you want me to bring back anything?” he stands up and starts checking his pockets for all his stuff.

“Yeah throw some clothes, deodorant, and a phone charger in my backpack and bring it when you get a chance. No rush. Thanks. I really appreciate this.”

Taehyung comes over and hugs Namjoon around the shoulders. “You always look out for me. I’m happy to return the favor. I’ll be back in a while.” He walks out and closes the door behind him.

Namjoon lets out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding in. This whole fiasco was yet another example of why this whole soulmate thing was bullshit. He had been so angry at you right up until the minute he entered the hospital room and saw how small and frail you looked. It was easy to be mad at you when you were an abstract idea. It was much harder when you were the woman who he had laughed with and hung out with, lying in a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of you.

He stands up and walks over to the door, closing it. He looks back over at you, looks down at your matching wrists, and this time he feels much more sad than angry. He takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers.

“Hey. I need you to wake up so I can yell at you. I was in the middle of a show when you did this. I’m sure the rumors have already started,” he teases you. “Running into me and hurting your wrist is one thing, running into a car is some next level shit.” He smiles.

“Your fiancé seems nice and super normal. You never told him about us though so I think he’s very surprised. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything about that night.” Namjoon adds in quietly. “I think about that night a lot,” he adds. “At night, when I’m alone. I think about you. I think about how things might be different if I wasn’t in the band.” he strokes your arm gently.

“You know? If you wanted to see me, your Director has my number, you didn’t have to go all dramatic on me. I wouldn’t have minded hearing from you actually.” he adds quietly. He looks at the matching marks on your wrists, so close now they are almost touching. “I remember the day I got this. I was 4.5 years old and I was so excited. I woke up with it and ran into my parents bedroom. We actually celebrated your birthday that day. I insisted on it. It was so dumb, but my parents are kind so they went along with it and we made a cake for you and I made a wish for you.” Namjoon takes a deep breath. “I wished that I would find you someday and you would be just as excited about me as I was about you. Every year on my birthday and on yours I thought about you; where you were. What you were doing. And my parents celebrated with me too. Because it was important to me.” Namjoon grabs a few tissues and blots his eyes where a few tears have started to fall.

“Until I was around 14. I became too cool for any of that bullshit. I had crushes on other girls but I felt weird because I had a soulmate. I had other things I wanted to pursue and I didn’t want you holding me back. I didn’t even know you but I was already blaming you for stuff. How fucked up is that?” he laughs dryly, “I remember that year my parents assumed we were going to celebrate your birthday and I told them that I wished I didn’t have my mark. That I wanted to live my life without you. I didn’t want a soulmate and the whole thing was stupid. I’ll never forget the looks on their faces. I don’t think they have ever been more ashamed. And so I stuck with that feeling for years.” Namjoon runs his fingers over the writing on your wrists.

“And then you so rudely ran into me last year. And chased me. I was absolutely terrified.” he smiles as he remembers, “I went and hid in my room. Suga had to make me come out. I tried to hide behind Jin so you wouldn’t see me. And you were not at all what I expected. You were independent and bossy and so comfortable doing your own thing. You didn’t need me. And I loved that. I don’t want you to need me. We should be with who we’re with because we want to be, not because of this forced tattoo.”

Namjoon gently sits your hand down and gets up to stretch and get some water. He dries his tears but still feels so sad. You must be ‘awake,’

He comes back over and sits next to you and starts talking about random stuff to see if you will respond. “Come on sweetheart, wake up.”

You hear a voice you haven’t heard this close to you in ages. You had heard it in interviews, you had stalked it on youtube videos, but it seemed so close. RM. You try to open your eyes but even that seems impossible. You try to focus on it, and hope that he just keeps talking.

“The choreographer there sucked; he didn’t show up to do the blocking ahead of time. You would have been embarrassed. And then tore them a new one. While smiling,”

Yep, that was definitely him talking to you, but why? Was this a dream? You had dreamt about him all the time. You loved and hated it. It always left you feeling so sad the next day, a pain in your heart. Stupid soulmate. You need to wake up so you can get on with your day. You determine yourself, open your damn eyes.

Namjoon feels a mix of sad, confused, and irritated as he sees your eyes start to flutter open. “Oh my God. [Y/n], yes wake up.” you hear him say. You open your eyes. The light is blinding. You let out a small whimper and close your eyes. “Oh, shit hold on,” you hear him get up and turn the lights down.

“Sorry sweetheart, there. Try again,” you hear him encourage you. You are definitely dreaming. RM is here and being nice to you and calling you sweetheart. Just like that night in February.

You open your eyes. He looks the same but his hair is blonde. “I like your hair.” you croak out. Your voice is gravely like it hasn’t been used in a while.

“Oh my God,” he just laughs.

If this is a dream you want to stay in it. You close your eyes again.

“No, no, no, I need you to open your eyes.” you feel him gently shake your arm.

You slowly become aware of the rest of your surroundings. You are in a bed. A hospital bed. You are definitely in a hospital, you notice a million things sticking out of your arms, electrodes on your chest, a cuff on your arm, is that dried blood on you? You feel him hold your hand, “Hey, calm down. Calm down. You’re in the hospital. You were in a car accident. You've been out of it for a few days.”

You start crying. You can’t help it. This is fucked up. Where is Ben? Why does your head feel like it’s splitting in half, why is RM here? Why are you glad to see him here instead of Ben? Why is this happening? You hear the heart rate monitor start to climb and you are trying to calm down but this is just so fucked up.

“Hey, calm down. You need to breathe. You are safe. I’m going to call the nurse, ok? Do you want me to leave?” he asks, gently holding your hand still.

You shake your head ‘no’

“You’re in pain.” he comments.

You squeeze your eyes shut and nod your head.

“I’ll go get someone,” he tries to leave but you aren’t letting go of his hand. “Hey, he leans in so he’s close to your ear and whispers, “I’ll be right back ok? You need a nurse and you need pain medication. I Can feel how bad it hurts.”

You lay there breathing through the pain. What’s the last thing you actually remember? You were at work and left to grab lunch. And then what? You realize you can’t remember. Shit. You were in a car accident? Was the other person ok? Oh God. If you were in a coma what happened to Namjoon.

You hear a bunch of people come into the room and immediately there are nurses taking your vitals, shining lights into your eyes, and changing your IV drip. Jesus. You felt like a big deal.

“Alright, there we go,” you hear one of the nurses speak to you. “I’m Jennifer. I’m going to give you a few minutes with your friend here while this drip gets started and then I’ll be in with the doctor in awhile ok?”

You give a slight nod of your head, which is still pounding. You close your eyes again. Tears are involuntarily running down your face. This is all fucked.

“Hey,” you hear RM’s voice.

You open an eye suspiciously. Not a dream you guess. “Hey,” you manage to croak out.

“You sound like shit,” he responds.

“You look like shit,’ you respond without thinking. He starts laughing.

“I’m not even going to let you see a mirror, but I think you should know that of the two of us, I am in much better shape.” he flashes his dimples at you and you once again feel like this has to be a dream.

“Shit. I’m sorry I got hit by a car. Did it hurt you?” you ask while gesturing to a container of water that has been left on the nightstand. He hands it to you.

“Yeah. I was performing in London and all of a sudden my legs stopped working and I collapsed. I had no idea what was going on until Jin stated the obvious.”

“Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s ok. Just you know, don’t do it again.” he smiles.

“You cut your fingers a lot,” you comment without thinking.

“..I do. I’m a terrible chef but my production team thinks it’s hilarious to make me try and cook things.”

“Please make them stop.” you say half-joking.

He runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Are you feeling better?” you ask.

“How the hell is it that you are in a hospital bed and you are asking me how I feel?” he asks incredulously.

You just sit there and shrug. The pain medication is starting to kick in making you feel drowsy. “Sorry I ruined your show,” you say as you start to feel very sleepy. “Thanks for coming. I missed you.”

Namjoon sits there for a minute feeling like the world’s biggest douchebag and then takes out his phone to text Taehyung. He walks out to the nurse’s station. He emotionally prepares himself, “Excuse me, has anyone called her fiancé? He went home last night to rest but I’m sure he’d want to know she’s awake.”

The nurse looks at the chart, “Ah yes, we had our social worker call a few minutes ago and leave a message.”

“Great, thanks.” Namjoon responds and decides to leave the hospital.

--------

Taehyung is sitting at the desk in the hotel room writing when Namjoon comes back in. He looks up, “Hey, Sorry, I was on a meeting with the guys and then the producer for a while,”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon says as he lays facedown on the bed. He keeps willing himself not to cry but he can’t help it. The tears fall hot on the cheap polyester bedspread. Taehyung closes his laptop and sits on the other bed facing him.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Namjoon says quietly.

“Did somebody make you leave?” Taehyung asks gently, not quite understanding.

“She has a fiancé. I’ve spent my whole life telling her I didn’t want her. This whole time all I’ve thought about is myself and one of the first things she asks me is if I’m ok. I feel like a complete asshole. I don’t deserve her as my soulmate.”

Tae just sits there for a minute and then walks over with a box of tissues. “Yeah. You have been kind of a dick about her.” he sighs. “Do you want me to stay here or do you need some space?”

“I want to be alone,” he chokes out.

“If you change your mind, just text me,” Taehyung grabs his laptop and quietly leaves the room.

Namjoon stays like that, indulging his sadness for a few more minutes. He rolls over and takes out his phone. He has one picture of the two of you at the awards show together. From time to time he takes it out and remembers the night you spent together. He looks at it now. What would have happened that night if he would have asked to stay? For you to come with him. What would have happened if he hadn’t been so dead set against you. He sighs and then sees a text pop up on his phone.

[unidentified number]: hey this is really awkward. This is Xavier, [y/n]s friend. I usually come to visit around d this time of day and she's finally awake but no one has heard from Ben. She is flipping out. I don’t want to leave her alone to go one a wild goose chase for her douchebag fiancé so can you please either come here or go to their apartment?

Jesus. Namjoon thought. He could just ignore this. He could walk away and be done with this. But he knew he couldn’t. He sighed, tears still staining his cheeks.

[RM]: Ok, yeah I’ll be there in 10 minutes.

He went to the bathroom and washed his face. NEXT CHAPTER

@calling-dips-on-j-hope @ghostkat23

#bts rm fanfic #bts fanfic #bts au fanfic #bts fanfction #bts rm x you #bts soulmate au #bts scenarios

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nosferatyou · 4 years ago

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If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 5 (Jack White x OC)

Summary: Shes back in Nashville and Ben finally drags Lee out to a Third Man show. To Lee’s surprise, she runs into an old friend...

WC: 3k

Warnings: Cigarettes, maybe cursing (?), and death by Jack White.

Notes: Damn y’all its my best chapter to date. Honestly im pretty damn proud of this. Also why is jack white so damn hard to write. Is he a hard ass with a heart of gold, or a dad who happens to play guitar. When i figure it out ill let you know. PS. If you find my fic reference (or fic rec for anyone who hasn’t read it) shoutout to you. If youre anything like me you read the whole series in two days and couldn’t think about anything else. You probably also looked up Rosaries for sale.

This was 14 years in the making. We were bound to run into each other again. I was expecting it in a weird way. It always works out that way; you get over old turmoil, and the moment it’s gone, they show up. Your breath is sucked from your lungs, and you’re practically drowning on the spot even though you’re not even near water. Every single emotion in your being is trying to cram through your mouth, and you end up choking on it. Who knew it’d be today I die a death by Jack White. Guess I ran that risk when I entered his stomping grounds.

“Lee, I swear I didn’t know he’d be here. I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d known. I’m gonna buy you any record in the store, whatever you want. Oh god, how am I going to fix this? Guess I could do emergency distraction plan #6. Though id need a knife-” I subtly flicked the back of his arm to shut him up. His panicked ramblings were only making me more nervous. He was here, actually here. I guess I just thought I'd have a couple more years of peace.

He was staring so intensely at me, but not in anger or guilt. He was nervous. He was frozen and rigid. He was always so loose and eased into a room. Even when he was anxious, it never showed. As soon as I gained something from the absolute shock of it, all my body went against my brain. I felt my legs start to make their way over to him shakily, and there was no stopping them. Fuck I didn’t will this happen. Panic was bubbling up in my chest again. It didn’t help that he wasn’t reacting other than his eyes growing larger with each step I took. Finally, I reached him, and my arms tightly wrapped around him. This was better than the alternative that I thought would happen, which would end with a shiner and some bruised knuckles. He hadn’t grown length, but as I finally felt it all, I realized he'd grown into a man, out of his boyish figure from all those years ago. I sank into it, warm feelings bubbling up in my chest. I could finally breathe for a moment. He didn’t reciprocate my hug, but I met his eyes when I looked up at him, and all I could see was pure shock. I don’t think he would’ve moved if someone yelled fire.

He mumbled, “Why don’t we find somewhere a little more private to talk, Rosie.” I quickly nodded my head, and all that anxiety came back as soon as it was gone. I did not appreciate this little roller coaster I was on. He put his hand on my back to softly guide me to wherever we were going. It was a painfully silent walk as we weaved through Third Man. My brain kept flashing back to all the moments of our short end, mixing with all the good memories it made for a weird emotional cocktail. The more I thought about how little time we’d actually known each other, I got even more panicked. A year. That’s it, and I still acted like we were childhood friends who wronged each other. I shouldn’t be feeling all of this over a man who had such little time in my life. Still, that doesn’t change that he was at the forefront of my mind for all those years after. God, his hand was burning me where it lay.

I hadn’t realized we’d made it to the spot until his words broke my thoughts. “Welcome to the Third Man roof, my secret spot, if you will.” I looked up to see a couple of lawn chairs and a crate between them, acting as a makeshift table. Cigarette butts strewed around the chair farthest from the edge. Jack was already walking towards what I assumed to be his chair. In tow, I followed, pulling my pack out of my pocket and lighting a cig. If this was going to happen, I was going to need a goddamn cigarette. He grimaced at the sight of Marlboros, pulling out his pack. Red Camels, still the same all these years later. Somethings just don’t change. Guess that’s comforting.

“I thought you were a camels girl. What happened there?” He was already reaching for another to hand to me.

“Oh, just had to settle when on tour for whatever others had. It just stuck, I guess…” A lie. I put mine out on the ground when I sat down and grabbed the nostalgic camel out of his hand, our fingers barely touching.

We sat in silence, smoking a piece of our past. I sure as hell didn’t know where to start, and I don’t think he did either. My body took over just as it had before and did what I couldn’t manage. I was blurting out words before I knew what was happening.

I stumbled out, “I bought all your records over the years.” Smooth.

A small smile fell onto his face, and he took another drag. “I did the same thing.” He looked over at me, quickly looked me over, then took a quick drag and put it on on the ground. “Have a favorite?”

I pretended to think like I hadn’t thought of having a favorite. “I guess I’d have to say Consolers of the Lonely, but if we’re talking The Stripes, I’d have to say De Stijl. Though I always feel like I should say your first, since you know, I’m on it.” I sent a small smile his way and started to ease into my seat more. Not sitting up so straight, ready to bolt at any moment. “What about you, Jack? Hm? Have a Rosalie Wright favorite?”

He answered without hesitation, “Surrender. I really liked that sound you had in 2004, where you got dirty and loud. It was a big change from your old blues tone. Someone told me it was because you moved to New Jersey, which honestly makes sense.” He stopped for a second and looked off. “That band, Leathermouth. When that album dropped, I played it when I was working in the upholstery shop, and Karen walked in. She turned right around after hearing, I think... My love has gone flat? I don’t know, but she asked me if I was doing okay at dinner that night.” He quietly laughed to himself, thinking over the memory.

“Anyone who wasn’t in the band asks me the same thing! They all said, “Hey, your new albums great! How are you doing? You need someone to talk to?” My smile fell. “Too bad all the guys found god. Nothing against that, of course! Just sucks they had to quit the band. Not Frankie, though. He wouldn’t find god even if he came to him on a piece of toast. I’d probably take some freak case of Stigmata for him even to consider it… Why am I still talking?” I blushed, realizing I'd been rambling too long about nothing that probably interested him

Jack waved his hand in the air to dismiss my worries. “We’ve got years to catch up on, Rosie. Besides, I’ve missed your ramblings.” He lit two more cigs, handing one over to me. His stare lingered on me, and his eyes softened from his stoic face. “I really have missed you, Rosie… All these years and I’m still not quite sure what you’ve been up to. I’ve only heard things here and there from Ben.” He took a long drag. “Where have you been all this time?”

I took a deep breath in, knowing the answer wouldn’t be the best. I spent a fair amount of drinking myself into oblivion over something he caused, so I kept my answer brief, “Oh, you know, toured, drank, slept in fans and friends basements. You know, a typical musician’s life. Oh! Got put on the FBI watchlist over a Leathermouth song. That was a fun night for Frankie and me.”

He chuckled, put out his cig, and turned his body towards me. The same warm smile was adorning him. As I said, some things just don’t change. “I mean, I don’t know what you expected when you play a song with that title. It’s one of the only things you legally can’t say.”

“Punk is punk, Jack. Too bad I was only playing guitar. I would’ve loved to scream that.” I put my cig out and put all my attention towards him. I hadn’t thoroughly looked at him the whole time we were up there. “It was hard not to stay caught up with you, Jack. You were everywhere. I tried not to pry, though. I never trusted the press. Though I heard about the divorce last year… I’m sorry you had to go through that again.”

His smile faltered, and he stared down at his hands for a second. “It was inevitable. We were too different for it to last. I guess this shit always happens for a reason, huh? We just fell out of love, and that was that. I had a party to commemorate new friendships and everything. At least she can’t hide my Billie Holiday records now…” He trailed off on that last sentence. I could barely hear it, but I caught the small comment. He still thought about me. I didn’t mention it though. I could barely think back to the old memories. Me making him dance with me to Billie Holiday's self titled album. I guess I just wanted to feel like we were really together back then, creating that fantasy. I felt like I had to wave my imaginary hands around in my head to clear out the memories that had risen to the surface. He was making it so hard to have a clear head.

We stayed quiet for a moment. He seemed lost in his thoughts. We were always good at comfortable silences. I think we just liked being in each other’s presence, having that person next to you. It was weird to think that I only had these old images of him to think back to. He looked so different. He was built, his face filled out, his height would make him look skinnier than he was back then. He’s muscular, probably from years of touring with heavy equipment. He looked his age. His eyes hadn’t changed though. His face was almost menacing for how serious it naturally rested. His eyes stayed bright, excited for everything ahead of him. He always hid that, and he probably still does.

“I’m sorry, Rosie. For everything that happened. It was selfish of me to -” I cut him off. This was for another day. I don’t think I could handle drudging up the past tonight.

“Make it up to me some other time. I just want to enjoy you tonight.” I sent a smile his way and went to stand up. “Better make it good though.” I went to lean against the wall to take in the Nashville skyline I missed so much.

I heard the gravel crunch underneath his shoes as he made his way next to me. His lighter clicked, and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the air. Moments later, he appeared next to me, cigarette in hand, ready for me to take. He clicked his lighter on and offered it out for me to light. I leaned in close and took a heavy drag. My eyes caught his left hand, cupping around the flame. No ring. It really was done, no lingering feelings. I moved back to lean against the small wall, leaning my head against my hand. I tried not to focus on the emotions that stirred in me when I noticed the absent metal on his finger.

“I really did miss this. Detroit was beautiful, but it never could beat the Nashville skyline. Maybe I was just missing home.” I finally got to take in the scenery around us. September in Nashville has never really been cold. I feel like I should be worried about that, but if I can avoid a sweater, I will. It was a comfortable kind of warm. You could sit out on your porch and not think about a thing. The small breeze was nice, taking away from the constant humidity. Then there was that constant. It never felt like Nashville’s downtown ever changed from far away. It was just stuck in time. The deeper you go, the more you realize the magic of music city is being taken over by honky tonks and drunk bachelorettes. Though the farther you drift away, the more you can feel like you're in the good ole days of classic Nashville. Back when the Ernest Tubb Record Shop didn't have a constant flow of Lynyrd Skynyrd cover bands but had undiscovereds like Loretta. Now you just have to settle for the sights and the small music scene curated by The End.

“Is it bad I feel the same way? Even if it’s not home home, it still feels like it. I think the skyline reminded me of coming home after long tours. It’s always the first thing you see. It’s a comfort.”

We weren’t touching technically, but our shoulders were so close I could feel it. I think he was deliberately keeping his space. I should be mad or angry. Something. But the feeling of him next to me was just as calming as the views. That same feeling of home lulling you in. He always felt like that to me. That dumb warm feeling in your chest that makes heavier days just a little lighter. It’s a bit shameful that I feel it all now, just as strong as back then.

“You know the only reason I came tonight is because Ben told me you wouldn’t be here. Something about your kids,” I took a drag. “Not that I regret coming! I just- Kids. How fucking weird is that? Never pictured you with kids. I always saw you as the same lanky kid from before.”

He snorted and bumped my shoulder with his own. “You know I found it odd you never had any. I mean, you were always weirdly maternal with Ben back when he was a teenager. You about took my head off when I told you I gave him a couple of beers. Oh, and those times I practically had to rip Jasper out of your arms after we got home from one of our first tours.”

“He was 16! His brain wasn’t fully formed yet, plus your mom would’ve murdered you.” I gave his arm a small playful hit and took another drag. “And I just haven’t had the time. Or the means to. I mean, I dated like two guys? Both were shit bag roadies who lasted all of two weeks. I kissed Frankie once, but the moment it ended, we about threw up. He’s a different kind of family. His kids call me Auntie Lee if that says anything.”

The conversation ended at that, and we fell back into our silence. I looked over and saw a small, content smile on his face that I was so used to seeing. Some things just don’t change.

It feels weird sitting here with him. We both were so happy to see each other. We just wanted to enjoy this time. At least, I think he’s the same way. He seems guarded, it’s subtle, but that wall is there. He used to be like this, but for different reasons. Secret wife reasons. I can only assume that now it’s the fame he’s been showered with. You can't show all your feelings with recognition like that. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him checking his watch. He muttered out shit when seeing the time.

Exasperatingly he said, “Speaking of kids, I’ve got to get home. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I promised Scarlett I'd be home to say goodnight.”

My smile faltered a little, but my heart grew at the comment about scarlet. He’s always loved so hard. It was only natural that he would be a good father.

We both put out our cigs and silently made our way out to where his car parked. I just mindlessly followed along, definitely not thinking about him and how wonderful he probably was with his kids.

When we got there, we just kind of stood there. Neither of us knew how to say goodbye. It was never something we did.

“I’m really glad I got to see you tonight, Rosie. Seriously.”

My body betrayed me, just like it had in the recording room. I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly, except this time, I could enjoy it a little more. His frame was so warm compared to the chilly September night. He finally wrapped his arms around me and practically threw himself into the embrace. He had no hesitation whatsoever. I nuzzled my face into his chest, a bit too shamelessly, but this was 14 years in the making.

When we finally (and hesitantly) pulled away, he asked, “ Listen, I don’t think I can just walk around town knowing you’re here and not see you. Can we get coffee or something? I don’t care what we do as long as it’s with you.”

I felt a giant smile fall onto my face. I was afraid this whole time we would just kind of say goodbye and not talk again. It was dumb to feel so happy over a small gesture, but it was just what I was looking for. He was infectious back then, and he is. Once you fall back into his circle, you never wanted to leave. “I’ll agree to coffee only if,” I gave him a playful poke in the side, “you help me fix my amp. I can usually do it, but I really did a number on her this time.” I held out my hand for him to shake. It’s not a deal if you don’t shake on it.

“It’s a date then.” A small smile appeared on his face, and he grabbed my hand to shake it.

“It’s a date.” We stood their just shaking hands and smiling at each other. We probably looked insane from far away, but who cares. Me and Jack were on the road to reasonable terms.

Tag list: @shamoane @elinyaes

#jack white #the white stripes #nosferatyou writes #if i can be so bold fic #if i can be so bold #the raconteurs #leathermouth #frank iero #UHV reference #can you tell that ive hyper fixated on frank as well #its obvious i know #gotta slide him into my works somehow #also they really got to cut down on the cigs #the bastards #also ben whats the distraction plan number 6 #im curious #and as i always say #bet Jack is a bottom #bet you like 5 bucks and the little clay mushroom house i made

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allie1804-fan · 4 years ago

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The Middle of the Road (Chapter 15)

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 , 9, 10, 11 , 12, 13 14

Warnings None

Later that day, they arrived back home – to the relief of a tired Patricia and Karina and the delight of Johnny and Hannah. Keanu and Emily were thrilled themselves to be back with the children too even though they had enjoyed such a special time away.

As Keanu read Johnny his story before bed, he thought back to the day it had stuck him like a thunderbolt that he wanted kids. He’d been reading a 4 year old Jamie (Chloe’s son) a story book that he and Emily had bought him for his birthday when it hit him how joyous that bond and love could be. Shortly after, he’d seen Emily holding another friend’s baby who was just weeks old and a friend had spotted the desire for a baby in both of them. It would be 2 years before Johnny was born after struggles with fertility and then an ectopic pregnancy. At that point, they had basically given up trying but Johnny had been conceived thanks to contraceptive failure and he couldn’t be more grateful for that sickness bug stopping Emily’s pill from working!

Emily was feeling much the same contentment as she fed Hannah. It wouldn’t be too much longer that she would breastfeed her and she cherished it as well as feeling the relief in her breasts! She had pumped a little over their break to relieve the pressure and keep her supply going so she was full again by the time of the evening feed.

When they regrouped in the kitchen later, Keanu was ordering some Thai food for a take-away and they spent the evening planning the Spring and Summer ahead. They would keep their secret to themselves until her birthday a couple of week’s later. Karina had already agreed earlier that afternoon to cook the family meal for Emily’s birthday – all Keanu needed to do was find the perfect engagement ring and birthday present to go alongside it.

Day to day life resumed for them and they managed to get into a rhythm which they could stick to easily with the designated days for writing and gym. Chloe still had Johnny one day a week, Keanu had him one full day and both kids for a half day giving Emily her writing time. Meanwhile, he was at the gym two mornings and doing other meetings in-between. One of those meeting was with Hannah Johnson to review her work on the script and let her know how grateful he was for starting the healing process by talking to Emily. He let her into the secret on their engagement – she was thrilled for them both and told him his happiness was certainly shining through.

The night before her birthday, Keanu presented Emily with her engagement ring, a beautiful vintage ruby ring. The central stone was a Burmese ruby flanked by smaller pear cut diamonds all set on a white gold band.

“Wow, my God it’s fabulous, am I gonna need security guards with me if I wear this out?”

“Well don’t wear it when you go to the gym and leave it in the locker!” he joked. It had cost him over $50,000 - nowhere near the millions of some celebrity rings but still a very significant amount.

“Anyway, it has to last, I am never buying another so it had to be a good one!”

“Well I love it, thank you. Shall I wear it tomorrow, when the family arrive?”

“Yes! I want to see if anyone has ‘spidey’ senses and spots it!”

As it was, his mother did spot it but she didn’t spoil the surprise. She whispered to him in the kitchen when they were alone briefly but didn’t give the game away and let him make the announcement after dinner when he raised a birthday toast to Emily.

“So thank you Karina for a delicious meal and thank you all for coming. People usually celebrate the big numbers for birthdays but Emily was a bit busy baking a baby this time last year! So, on her 41st birthday, I’d like to raise a toast to Emily, the most beautiful mother to my children, my partner and my future wife!”

A gasp went round the table.

“Show them the ring Emily” Patricia encouraged, revealing that she’d seen it earlier but had kept quiet so as not to ruin the announcement. Everyone was surprised and delighted about the engagement – most had been aware there had been some tension of late and were glad this seemed to have been resolved. Keanu gave Emily a necklace matching her engagement ring for her birthday, a pear shape ruby on a white gold chain - she would be able to wear it for the wedding. The family heard that the wedding would be a small affair in their own garden with just family and a few friends and would take place in about 3 months time so that they could have a short honeymoon before Jonathan turned 2.

When the day came, the house was filled with the fragrance of flowers, Emily had her wish of an abundance of cottage garden flowers that would not be out of place in a Hardy novel. For the ceremony her dress was a simple cream tea length design with a wrap over bodice and asymmetrical layered skirt while Keanu wore a beige suit. They each had more casual clothes for later in the evening - their children were there at the party so they were not keen to be in their finery for the whole event.

Their honeymoon was 5 days in Taormina Sicily, where Jonathan had been conceived. The children would be looked after by their new nanny, Maria, who they’d recruited a month before. Emily hadn’t been planning to work again before Johnny’s 2nd birthday but her agent had contacted her a couple of months earlier about a script that needed re-writes because the female voice just wasn’t sounding authentic. He knew this was something that she could help with so had got in touch. The boost to her confidence about getting back to work was huge and Keanu encouraged her to go for it even though it was earlier than planned and they had the wedding coming. Luckily their search for a nanny wasn’t prolonged and they had confidence in her having the children for their short honeymoon break.

The crystal clear turquoise waters, the wonderful food and the luxury of the Hotel San Domenico gave the two a wonderful relaxing break before they would return for the mayhem of a 2 year old’s birthday party and a big event in September for Keanu - both his 60th birthday and an honorary award at the Toronto International Film Festival. 2024 was certainly proving to be a big year for them.

@penwieldingdreamer @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @ladyreapermc @witty-wallflower @gatsbynouvel @bitchyslut99 @keanureevesisbae @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @kindainlovewithkeanu @paperplanesandwallflowers

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves ofc

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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

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Seaside Rendezvous - Part 3

READ PART 1 // PART 2

Request: Can you please write a hc for going on a island vaca at a resort with your family after college finals and you meet joe (also a college student) and you two see each other a ton but you are always with your family so not much happens but flirty small talk and you both end up having a lot of sexual tension and go into one of your rooms when you’re family is out and just some smut happens?

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (FINALLY) 18+, Golf related double entendres, not-quite-hate sex, unprotected sex,but also protected sex, choking, oral sex (m & f receiving), mild spanking, shower sex, mentions of edging, handjob.

Words: 8969

A/N: Ummmm, I don’t even know what to say. I kinda can’t believe I’ve finished it. Or how many words I took to do it. Thank you so fucking much to the anon who sent in the original request because this was so much fun to write. I really hope you enjoy the payoff for all the bullshit I put them through in the first two chapters. It might just be because I’m still so close to this story but I kinda wanna write more for them so if you have blurb requests about what else they got up to or whatever send them my way lmao

Taglist: @laedymoon @somekind-ofcheese @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @bowiequeen @hannafuckingsucks @bemy-clementine

@ramibaby @briarrose26 @d34d-0n-th3-1ns1d3 @painkiller80 @stephydearestxo

You cursed yourself when you woke and remembered what was in store for the day. You cursed your Mom for being so intent on manipulating your love life. You cursed your Dad for being the type of guy who would make friends with the first man he talked to. You cursed Joe for being the first man your Dad talked to. And for everything else that’d happened last night. And then you cursed yourself again for getting stuck in this position and for flirting with Joe in the first place and for not sleeping with him when you had the chance. The very quick orgasm you’d been able to rub out before the rest of your family returned to your rooms wasn’t anywhere near enough. It wasn’t what you wanted. Maybe if you’d had a bit more time it would have been more satisfying. But you hadn’t been sure how long they’d take to finish their meal or whether they’d come straight up to the rooms or hang out downstairs for a while, so you’d rushed. It was almost worth it, though, to see your mother so surprised to find you sitting up in bed reading. She’d almost jumped when she realised you were there, hand landing over her heart like you’d sprung out from behind a wall and yelled boo. Of course, she’d had to pretend otherwise in front of Erin, not wanting to explain where she thought you’d actually be. Thank god she was going to be occupied all day because you did not want to have the ‘I just think you should socialise with people your own age’ talk that was all poorly hidden code for ‘I’m hungry for gossip and your sex life is the best thing to potentially tell everyone about’. The reminder that your Mom and Erin would be busy made you curse Joe again. If he’d not been such an impatient dick about it, you probably would have had the entire day to yourselves, to spend however you wanted wearing as few clothes as you deemed necessary. Instead you’d be spending the day with your Dad. Playing golf.

Joe, wearing a red polo shirt that looked way too good on him, greeted you stiffly when you met up with him and your father at the entrance to the golf course, obviously displeased about how last night had gone. He barely looked at you as you hired out clubs and made your way to the first hole, though you thought you might have caught him peeking at your ass once or twice. It’d be a lie to say you’d not specifically chosen the shorts you wore because of how good they made you look, though you weren’t sure if it was because you wanted to make Joe suffer a little or to tempt him into touching you again. Maybe a bit of both. Either way, he remained aloof, mostly ignoring you, for the first couple of holes anyway. If your Dad noticed any tension between you and Joe, he didn’t let on, talking to you both about the game and constantly sharing tips he’d picked up over the years. By hole number three he’d had made a couple of bad hits, having to head into a sand trap to retrieve his ball. Which left you and Joe. Standing there. Waiting. He cracked first. “Didn’t expect you to show,” he sneered, one eye on your father. “And miss this? You’re in a charming mood by the way,” “I’m not in any mood, I’m just a little tired.” “Sure, if you say so. Just, tell me this one thing. Is that because you were up all night thinking about me?” There was a triumphant cry from your father as he finally managed to get his ball free of the sand. You clapped as he returned to where you and Joe were standing, taking a theatrical bow. “Sorry, I’m usually a bit better than that.” “Don’t worry Dad, me and Joe aren’t very good so it’s probably better for us if you’re having an off day.” Alright Joe, you’re up,” your Dad said with a laugh, “Just remember to grip your shaft softly and stroke it smooth and you’ll get it in the hole no problem.” “And maybe don’t feel the ball up under the dinner table,” you said soft enough so only Joe would hear as he walked past you to line up his shot. You weren’t sure if he was just generally terrible at golf, or because you’d got inside his head, but either way it took him three tries to hit the ball and when he did he sent it off in the wrong direction. “Oh, bad lucky Joey,” you teased as he scowled at you. “As if you could do better,” “Watch me.”

You did do better, thank god, though not by much. You hadn’t gotten to the hole, but you were at least in the right general area. It was enough to piss Joe off further, his competitiveness coming out with his frustration. At the next hole he managed to get the ball in first try, earning a hearty congratulations from your Dad and a half-hearted one from you. “It’s because he took my advice,” your Dad said proudly, “I told him to put his head down and spread his legs a bit and see Y/N, he did it and it worked, straight in the hole. Maybe you should give it a shot too.” “Yes, Y/N, why don’t you try spreading your legs a bit more,” Joe laughed. You resisted the urge to ask him for a hands-on demonstration as you took your own, much less successful shot. As soon as your Dad was far enough away, leading you on to the next hole, Joe turned back to you. “Careful Y/N, more shots that pathetic and I might just win.” “You got lucky.” “Only right one of us should.” “Aww, you still mad I left you high and dry last night? Your hand just not good enough?” “Don’t act like you had any better. Besides, you don’t know I didn’t go off and find someone else. You’re not the only girl who can dress slutty and play at being the damsel in distress. “Nice try but the jealousy card won’t work. Already admitted to thinking about me all night.” “I did not admit that.” “Not intentionally but I can see it in your eyes. I saw it the moment you said good morning to me.” “Fine, maybe you’re right. I was thinking about you alone in your room, touching yourself. Trying to decide if you’d be using your fingers or if you were extra naughty and brought a toy with you.” “And how’d that work out for you?” “A shit night sleep actually. And I couldn’t make up my mind, both were such nice images. But I did come to one conclusion,” “Yeah?” “Yeah. You were thinking about me while you did it.” You were left scrambling to form a coherent sentence as he laughed and walked ahead.

By the ninth hole things were overtly competitive. Your Dad’s game had picked up, putting him well in the lead but you and Joe barely noticed, much too desperate to outdo the other to worry about anything else. Days of frustration, sexual and otherwise, had boiled into a competitiveness neither of you realised you were capable of. The in between moments, while you were unable to focus your aggression onto your balls, were spent at each other’s throats. Whispered comments ranging from insulting your game to insulting his manhood. Condescending tones and lazy double entendres. When you were trying to determine which of your clubs would be best Joe leaned over and cockily offered you one of his. “You could try my 5-Wood. Bigger head means you might have a chance of getting close.” “Sorry, Joe. Your clubs don’t have long enough shafts for me, couldn’t possibly be satisfying.” When he took an inordinately long time to make a shot you told him he could bang it in the back or slip it in gently but either way to hurry up. He fumbled it completely. Then, after your next swing he made sure to complement you on your bounce while staring directly at your chest. At hole 14 things got a little more personal. You casually let slip that you were, in fact, using your fingers last night, and asked Joe if knowing that for sure would have helped him sleep better. “You’re a fucking cock tease, Y/N,” he growled, “I don’t think you ever intended to sleep with me, you just get off from leading people on. Well I’m fucking done with it; you can go choke.” “Oh, kinky. Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.” He huffed out a breath but otherwise didn’t respond.” “Don’t go quiet on me now, right when I’ve learnt about your little kink. You’d like to choke me, wouldn’t you? Did you think about it last night, while you were, y’know...?” you made a jerk off motion with your hand. “You’re right, I would like that, anything to shut you up for half a minute, but don’t pretend you’re not hot for it too. I can see you dripping from here.” “Well, you know me, I get off from being a tease apparently. You’re up. Try to hit the ball straight this time.”

The score at the end of the game was in your favour, but not by much. Your Dad just smiled at you as you cheered, amused by your celebrating but Joe was gritting his teeth. “Well that was fun,” your Dad said glancing at his watch, “do we want to play a few more rounds? It’s still fairly early,” “Actually, I really should head back,” Joe said, all smiles and polite words to your father, though perhaps a little more tart than he normally would have spoken, “I’ve got a thing booked for this afternoon so I probably should go shower and get changed. It’s been fun though; we should do this again.” “Not to worry Joe, thanks for indulging me today,” they shook hands and then Joe shouldered past you to return his clubs. “What about you Y/N? Up for some more?” “As fun as that sounds, I think I might head off too. I’ve been thinking about a mocktail and a bubble bath for the last three holes. Since the room’s free I might make hay while the sun shines.” "Cold drink doesn’t sound half bad now that you say that.” He walked with you back towards the main part of the resort, laughing and chatting about the game you’d just played, and commenting on how he’d missed having your sanity round the house. Joe was a little way ahead of you, but you determinedly kept your eyes anywhere but on the back of his head. On the off chance that he might turn around you didn’t want him to think you were staring at him. At the entrance to the lobby your Dad bid you farewell, heading off in the direction of the bar and leaving you to make your way upstairs.

Inside was quiet, most guests already out enjoying the sun and the sea. A handful of people milled around by the front desk with their suitcases, waiting to check into, or out of, their rooms and a few people wearing not much more than their bathers hurried past as you approached the elevator. The only other person waiting to head up to their room turned, eyes following a bikini clad woman, though he stopped once his vision met you. “There she is, The Tease. Heading off to make some other poor bastard miserable?” “You’re only miserable because you suck at golf. Fucking sore loser too, running off the second you found out I’d beat you.” “It was two points, it barely counts.” “Three points,” there was a ding and you followed Joe into the elevator, “And you of all people should know it’s not the size of the score that matters, only who you fuck over with it.” The words were barely out of your mouth before Joe was on you, pushing you up against the back wall and kissing you hungrily. If you’d been shocked by his sudden movement it didn’t last long, quickly giving way to the need to kiss him back. Your nails scraped at his shirt as you tried to press your bodies closer, helped by his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass as he pulled your hips into his. He leaned his other arm on the wall beside your head, anchoring you into place, not that you had any intention of trying to escape. He kissed you like he did at the market, needily and messily, though the intensity was a hundred times more, desire and frustration burning through you both. “Thought you said you were done with me,” you tried to sound disdainful as he pulled away, still firmly pinning you to the wall, but the words came out as more of a gasp than a sneer. “I said I was done with your teasing,” he managed to achieve the harsh tone you’d been going for as a second ding caught you by surprise and the elevator reached your floor, “C’mon,” he half growled, grabbing your hand to pull you down the corridor towards his room. You couldn’t help but giggle as he pushed you inside, still pissed off with him but more than a little giddy at the prospect of finally being able to do what you’d been wanting to do since you first saw him. He towered over you as he backed you further into the room, towards his bed, roughly tugging at your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor, before doing the same with his. You felt the back of your legs hit the bed and for a moment everything froze, both of you breathing hard. And then his hand was on your shoulder, pushing you down across the mattress, your legs dangling over the edge. He wasted no time in pulling your shoes and socks off as you unhooked your bra, tossing it aside. Your shorts came off next, followed quickly by your panties. “Already soaked for me,” his voice was rough and so were his fingers as he pushed your legs up and open wider, and delved into your heat, stoking the fire that had been building for days as he stretched you out. “Y-you say that like you haven’t been sporting a s-semi every time you’ve thought about me for the last-t four days. Oh fuck.” You whined as Joe wrenched his fingers free of you to dig through his bedside draw, ”No need to complain, gonna give you something better than my fingers in a second,” “Y’know your dick is in your pants, not the draws,” “Remember when a simple kiss could have you speechless? Fuck I miss that.” “What are you doing?” “Looking for a condom, swore I put them here.” “Are you clean? Cause I’m clean and on the pill and sick of waiting.” “You sure?” He asked already tugged his short and underwear off. “Yes, I’m sure. Just fuck m –,” you were cut off, breath catching in your throat as he thrust into you. “What was it you were saying about size? Seems I’m big enough to shut you up, finally.” And then he paused, swallowing thickly and squeezing his eyes shut as you both adjusted and revelled in the feeling.

The moment didn’t last long before he was taking you roughly, pushing gasps and whines from you with every snap of his hips. Neither of you were patient enough to slow down, desperate for a release from the energy that had pent-up with every flirtatious look and teasing word. “That - oh! - that the best you can do?” Joe didn’t bother to answer, just growled as he leaned over and moved one hand from your thigh to your throat. The tight squeeze of his fingers and the weight of his palm pressing into you made you clench down on his dick. He let out a low chuckle, “Knew you’d enjoy that. Been begging for it all morning.” You clutched at the sheets as he grabbed your ankle in his free hand and pulled your leg up, knee bent and foot resting over his shoulder. “Jesus,” he groaned as the change of position allowed him to sink deeper into you. All you could manage was a choked moan as he fucked you relentlessly, still squeezing your throat. He dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing it in harsh circles that only made you moan more. “Please tell me you’re close,” he grunted. “Mmhm close, fuck Joe,” “Say that again,” “’m close,” “My name, say my name again,” You did one better, moaning his name as he released your throat completely. The rush of breath returning to you flooded your system making everything feel heightened, sending you careening into your orgasm. You chanted his name as you rode out your high and were still repeating it when he kissed you again, pulling out and following you over the edge, covering your stomach with his cum as your noses bumped together and you whined against his lips.

“Well,” you said, a little nervously, as he stood up and held out his hand to pull you up too. You felt a little unsteady as you stood, but Joe kept hold of your hand, his other reaching out to brush some of your hair behind your ear. “Yeah.” “Worth the wait?” “Absolutely.” He leaned in to kiss you softly, all traces of his previous mood gone. He was still standing close, foreheads almost touching when you softly said, “I gotta pee. And clean up,” waving a hand in front of your stomach. You both laughed as he let you go with a, “shit, yeah, of course,” and a lingering look. When you returned to the room he was waiting for you, bed covers draped over his lap as he leaned against the wall, a pillow shoved behind his back. His head was bent, attention focused on something in his hands though it was drawn back to you when you spoke. “So, that was something,” “Yeah, um, definitely something.” What’s that supposed to mean? You climbed into bed next to him, leaving a space between you as you made to lean against the wall like he was, blankets pulled a little higher to cover your chest. Instead he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side, shuffling closer so you could lean into him properly. “What you got there?” You pointed at the object that held his focus, a small package wrapped in brown paper. It crinkled as his fingers moved over it. “This,” he said, “was meant to be a goodbye present. I was going to give it to you on the last day we were both here as, umm, just like, a little, I don’t know, keepsake? It was going to come with a very funny note about how much fun I’d had fucking you into oblivion, or how your pussy was worth sneaking around behind your family’s backs or something like that. I haven’t written it yet, but it would have been fucking hilarious.” He paused, running his thumbs over the brown paper again, still looking at you, “Instead, I’d like to give it to you with an apology. For being such an ass.” “Joe, y-,” “I know you’re about to say I don’t have to, but I do. I was a dick. I knew you were specifically trying to keep your family uninvolved and I still did…. everything I did, and then I acted like a jerk to you today. So, I’m sorry.” He held out the package, but you didn’t take it straight away. “For the record, this is very sweet and you didn’t need to buy me anything…” “I know,” “… But I also wasn’t going to stop you from apologising. I’m really glad you did because last night sucked. But some of that was on me too. I was a bit of a dick too. But maybe not quite as much as you were,” Joe laughed and squeezed you tighter, “Will you just take the gift already so we can forget all that. It doesn’t matter.” You reached out for the package, sitting up a little straighter and unwrapping it slowly. The necklace and earrings he’d offered to buy you at the markets fell out onto your lap, a bright white and yellow plumeria on each item. “I went back and got them, that day at the market, after we separated. Do you like them?” “They’re lovely.” “I thought it’d be nice for you to have something physical you could keep, even after we leave.” “Thank you, I really love it,” you pulled him down into another kiss. “And again, they were going to be attached to a note about all the sex we, theoretically, had.” His face was serious as he spoke but there was a barely contained laugh in his voice that made you laugh too. “So, you’ve been imagining us having sex?” you swept the jewellery into your palm and leaned over to place it on the bedside table, “that demonstration just before, was that something you’d imagined?” “That was….not how I thought it’d go,” he said with a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head, “not the first time anyway.” “How did you think it’d go?” “Less rough, for one. A bit clumsy and stuff but more…. intentional than it ended up being.” “So, not a spur of the moment thing after hours of winding each other up?” “Definitely not. I was going to be much more prepared. At least have a condom within easy reach. I found them by the way, I was looking in the wrong draw.” “You’re such a dork,” you giggled, shifting yourself to straddle his lap, looping your arms around his neck as his hands fell to your waist. “Think you’ve told me that before,” “Because it’s true. But I also imagined it’d go a bit differently.” “Different how?” “Like you said, less rough. I was also going to be on top, umm, because it’s been a while and I thought it’d be better if I was more in control.” “Y/N, shit,” Concern was written over his face but you cut him off before he could ask if you were okay. “No, it was good, Joe” you brought your hand to his cheek reassuringly, “really good. I’m happy with how it actually happened.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, smiling as he paused just before your lips touched. His breath was warm on your lips and you thought he probably would have said the same of yours, except that you’d stopped breathing. You closed the gap, a series of soft shallow kisses that gradually lingered longer, became deeper. Your chest felt tight and there were butterflies going wild in your gut. Perhaps it was the conversation you’d just had, vulnerable and candid, or just the dramatic shift from how you’d interacted earlier in the day. Whatever it was had you feeling more nervous than you had when he pushed you against the wall of the elevator or even when he tore off your clothes. He was more careful in the way he touched you, more deliberate, so you gathered he was feeling something akin to what you were. His fingertips rested softly against you, contrasted against the faint marks left from where he’d grabbed you so tightly before. Perhaps being so open had been a mistake. It wasn’t something you usually let happen after only knowing a guy for a few days. But, then again, it wasn’t like you had forever with Joe, just a few short weeks. He pulled you tighter against him, chests pressed together, and you tried to shut off your brain, stop overthinking and just focus on Joe and the moment at hand. It was slow this time. Before you’d been in a rush, desperate lust driving you to move fast and hard, spurring each other on. A feeling like if you didn’t hurry up and fuck you’d lose the chance. Even before that, when you’d kissed at the market, when you’d gotten so close in your bathroom, it was always rushed for fear of being caught out. But this time, there was none of that. That frantic need had mellowed. There was no clock to outrun, no chance of intrusion from well-meaning but unwanted relatives. You could take your time, soak each other in. And you did. Dragging your hands down over his shoulders until they rested against his chest, able to feel his heartbeat speed up under your palm. He brought his lips to your neck, pulling sighs and heavier breaths from you with each slight scrape of his stubble. Even when you finally rolled the condom down his shaft and lowered yourself onto him and he brought his hands up to cup your breasts and you moaned as you rode him, even then it was tender, almost delicate. A quiet sort of desire that drew you onwards until you were muffling your moans in his neck and quivering as you came undone

Afterwards you cleaned up and began to redress. Joe had slipped his underwear back on while you were in the bathroom, before collapsing back onto the bed. “What are you doing?” he said softly, watching as you picked up your shorts from where he’d thrown them into the floor. “You can’t expect me to walk back to my room half naked,” “I don’t go back to your room just yet.” “But my family…” “Are all busy,” he kneeled up and grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards the bed, “Your Mom and sister will still be occupied with the hula show and your Dad is probably having a nap or relaxing by the pool. We still have time.” “I don’t want them to see me leave here,” “They won’t. Just come back to bed for a little longer.” You worried at your lip for a few seconds, thinking it over. You’ve spent the last half a week wanting nothing more than to be in Joe’s bed, why are you in such a rush to leave? Finally, you nodded and dropped your shorts again, climbing back into bed in nothing but your shirt and panties. Joe wriggled closer, throwing his arm over you as you curled into him. “I’ll check if the coast is clear for you before you leave. And I’ll come up with some way to throw your mother off, okay?” “Thank you,” “Least I can do.” You shuffled around, getting comfortable, and lay your head against Joe’s shoulder. “Can I ask you something?” he said softly, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” “Sure, what is it?” “Your Mom mentioned a breakup, last night. I assume that’s got something to do with why,” he waved his hands around the both of you, “this is happening.” “Yeah, kind of. I guess I just need something casual at the moment, no strings, no labels, just fun.” “I can do fun,” “Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear. What about you? There a particular reason you’ve had to come to Hawaii to get laid?” “You kid but that’s not actually that far from the truth. Started with a bad breakup more than a few months back. And I mean bad. Been in a bit of a dry spell ever since. One of my friends suggested I take a break after we were done with exams, just head off to somewhere new and use the time away to find myself or, whatever hippy bullshit he’s goes on about. But I figured, fuck it, why not go somewhere new.” “How’d you pick Hawaii?” “It was cheap and sunny. And there was a high chance of seeing some cute girls in bikinis.” “The three most important things to think about when booking a vacation.” “Well, seems to be working out well enough.” He let his hand slide down your side until it landed on your ass, squeezing it to make you laughed. “So what do you have in mind then? To throw Mom off I mean. Gonna make it a whole lot easier to sneak around if she’s not constantly watching us.” You talked quietly for a bit longer, plotting a potential plan, but, both worn out, it wasn’t long before your breathing evened out and you fell asleep with your head in the crook of Joe’s neck, his soft snores filing the otherwise silent room.

Waking up was hard, the nap not having lasted as long as you would have liked. Convincing yourself to get out of bed was harder still. You knew you had to so you could get ready to meet your family for dinner but the draw of staying cuddled up to Joe was very tempting. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed the feeling of being so physically close to someone since you’d dumped Eddie. Plus, staying meant you got to make out some more and, really, that sounded like a wonderful way to spend the night. With a sigh you pushed yourself up and finished getting dressed. Joe stirred as you were slipping your shoes back on. “Where’re you going?” “Shower. And then down to dinner,” “What time is it?” “It’s like, six o’clock, just about.” “Shit, really? Guess you should go then.” “I’ll come back later, after Erin’s asleep,” you grabbed the jewellery Joe had given you from the bedside table, already planning on wearing it to dinner. “Pretty sure the last time you said you’d be back, you ended up ditching me to go drinking with your parents,” “Well if I don’t show up, you’ll know where I am. See you later.” “Wait!” Joe sat up suddenly, throwing back the covers “I said I’d help you sneak back.” “Stay in bed, I’m sure no one will see.” “No no no, I’ll check. Don’t want you getting mad at me again.” “I wouldn’t,” “You’ve withheld sex once before, I’m not risking it again, he laughed, throwing a shirt and shorts on, “besides, couldn’t let you leave without…” his lips were on yours in a heartbeat as he pulled you close. “That’s so unfair, making me wanna stay,” “Guess you’ll just have to make sure you come back then. Now wait here for my signal.” You chuckled as he slipped out the door, his footsteps treading slowly down the hall until he was in sight of your room. A moment later there was a knock at the door. You peeked out to find Joe, hand held up beside his face like a gun. He put a finger to his ear like he was listening to a hearing device, “Coast is clear. Safe to move. Go! Go! Go!” You laughed as you followed him quickly back down the hall, his finger gun drawn the whole way, holding it out as you rounded a corner. When you reached your room he waited until you’d pulled out your key before announcing, “The eagle is in the nest.” With a final glance around to double check you were definitely alone, you called him a dork again, leaned up to kiss him once more and then ducked into your room, grinning.

Dinner went slower than you wanted, but no one suspected you were lying when you said you’d spent the afternoon on the beach. Erin, unhelpfully, announced that she and your Mom had also been on the beach, but it was large enough and busy enough that it was reasonable for you not to have seen each other. There was also a question raised about your jewellery, but you covered by saying you’d bought it the day you bought Erin hers but had forgotten about it until that afternoon. Other than that the meal passed incident free. Afterwards you all made your way out to the pool to relax and have a drink or two. The only interruption was a brief lecture from your mother. From her position on a lounge, she caught sight of Joe heading towards the bar. If he’d been closer she probably would have called out to him, instead she suggested you go and get her a refill. Before you could do more than sigh and swing your legs off your own lounge chair, she threw out an arm to stop you. Joe was leaning against the counter of the bar, chatting up another girl. Her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to read their lips despite how far away she sat. She couldn’t miss it however when the girl wrote her number on a napkin and handed it to Joe. “Would you look at that. You know, this is what happens when you play hard to get Y/N. There is a time to make a man work for your attention, but a vacation is not it. The girls back home will be so disappointed for you.” You lay back down and tuned her out as much as you could, trying not to smile at how well the plan you’d hatched had worked. After that it was just killing time until you could go upstairs with Erin and wait for her to talk herself into exhaustion. Patiently, you listened to her babble about the tiki statue she’d decorated, pointing out all her artistic choices but refusing to let you pick it up off her bedside table for a closer look. When she finally did fall asleep you watched the clock tick for another fifteen minutes, just to make sure she was really out. Then you changed into your bikini and a robe and left the room as quietly as possible.

Joe answered after the first knock. “Should start calling you beaver,” you said as you stepped inside, noting the confused look Joe gave you, “because you’re so eager.” “Oh, my mind went…somewhere else entirely.” “Perv!” you laughed, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Is it pervy to ask what you’ve got on under the robe?” “A little but I’ll let it slide.” His eyes raked you up and down as you slowly pulled the belt of your robe loose, letting it fall open. “You wore it,” he grinned, meeting your eyes briefly before lowering his gaze back to your scantily clad body. “Had to compete with the pool bar girl somehow,” slowly, you let the robe slip off your shoulders, falling to the floor in a heap. You lay a hand against Joe’s chest, walking him further into the room, “If you want I can make this quick, so you’ll be ready to meet her later.” He gulped, shaking his head, “I don’t think making this quick is going to be a problem.” “You don’t even know what I’m going to do yet,” you kept your eyes locked on his as you ran your fingers along the waistband of his shorts, sinking to your knees as you tugged them down along with his underwear. “Jesus,” he whimpered, watching closely as you spat into your palm before wrapping your hand around his cock. “You weren’t lying were you? So hard already. Guess I better get started then.” Keeping your eyes up, you gently began to kitten lick around his tip, gradually trailing your tongue further down the underside of his shaft and then dragging it back up to focus on his tip again. When you decided he was suitably worked up, his breathing heavy and uneven, you took him between your lips. His hand fell to the top of your head but he didn’t try to force you to take more of his dick, instead just rested it there as you set the pace. You bobbed up and down on his cock, deliberately going slow so you could adjust. Every so often you’d return to lavishing his head with kisses and licks before sinking back down and hollowing your cheeks. When you felt your jaw getting tired you pulled back, slowly working your hand over him instead. “I’m not gonna last much longer,” “I figured, from the why you’ve been panting and moaning.” “Can’t blame me, you’re very good at this.” “Well, I try. If you want I can try deepthroating you until you cum.” “Fuck, you can do that?” “It’s been a while, might require a position change but yeah I should be able to. You up for it?” “Yes, god yes. Where do you want me?” “Might be easiest if I lie on the bed.” “Sure, whatever you think is best.” You giggled at how earnest and excited he sounded as you took his offered hand to stand up again. You took a second to stretch your muscles, knees stiff from the rough carpet, before climbing onto the bed. “This gives me a little less control than before so if I need to stop I’ll tap you okay?” “Yeah, of course. I’ll start slow. One question though,” “Shoot,” “Can I choke you again?” “You mean while you’re fucking my throat? Yeah that sounds hot. Ready?” Joe nodded as you got as comfortable as you could be with your head hanging over the edge of the bed. You were reminded suddenly that this was the exact spot he’d fucked you hard after you’d come back from golf, except you were turned the other way around. A shiver running through you at the thought. When you were ready you gave Joe a quick tap to let him know and then tried to focus on staying relaxed as he slipped back into your mouth. You could feel his hand resting against your throat again, not squeezing, just gently tracing his fingers and thumb up and down your neck as he slowly worked his cock deeper. The sensation of his fingers helped you stay calm and focused as you held onto his hips, controlling his movements as much as possible. As he gradually fucked you deeper, drawing extra gags from you, he brought both hands to your throat, thumbs almost overlapping towards the base of your neck, squeezing harder the longer and faster he fucked you. “Fuck, Y/N,” he panted, “can feel my dick moving in your throat. Under my hands. Holy shit that’s hot. Can see it too, when I move my hands away.” He did exactly that, releasing your throat so he could watch his cock move under your skin. It wasn’t long before his hands were back in place though, pressing down on the bulge. You hummed as you felt him tighten his hold a little more. “I’m, fuck, I’m g-gonna, gonna cum.” You squeezed his hip a little tighter to let him know it was okay. It was all the invitation he needed, holding himself deep in your throat and squeezing tight as he moaned through his release. When he finally released your throat and stepped back you rolled onto your stomach, coughing a little as you tried to get your breathing back to normal. “Are you okay?” he asked, rubbing your back as the coughs subsided. “Yeah, I’m great.” “You’re fucking incredible is what you are,” he tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, “But you’re going to have to stop wearing that bikini for the rest of your vacation because, after that, I’m not gonna be able to see you in it without cumming in my pants.” You chuckled as he sat down next to you, leaning your forehead on his shoulder. “Just give me a couple minutes to collect myself and I’ll return the favour,” “No rush, I’m a little worn out myself. You still got that vodka?” “Yeah, umm, think it’s in the wardrobe.” You patted his leg as you stood, head still a little dizzy from having hung upside down, and made your way to where he’d indicated, finding the bottle almost as soon as you opened the door. “Balcony?” He nodded as he pulled his pants back on, following you out. This time you both opted for the chairs, rather than sliding to the floor, but you pulled them so they were next to each other, facing out across the ocean. You unscrewed the lid and took a swig of the vodka, before handing the bottle over. For a minute you sat in silence, listening to the waves against the shore, passing the bottle between you. Until Joe’s voice cut through the quiet. “So, what’s on the cards for tomorrow? Your Mom booked another activity that you’ll be stuck doing?” “Nah, don’t think so. Well, I think I’ve been uninvited from whatever she had planned. She’s pretty disappointed about you chatting up other girls and me not being visibly upset by it. Don’t think she can stand to look at me right now.” you laughed. “Does that mean you’ll be free all day then?” “Yeah. I’ll have to double check in the morning in case she’s calmed down, but I should be.” “Cool.” “Any requests for what I should wear?” “ Hmmm,” he leaned in, making a face like he was thinking hard, “don’t really mind as long as it’s easy to remove.” You thought he was going to kiss you again but instead he grabbed the bottle from your hand while you were focused on his lips, leaning back as soon as he hand it in his grasp and taking a sip. “Fuck you, I was drinking that,” “Think you were a little too distracted to drink. Besides I’m cutting you off again.” “Bullshit, I’ve barely had any,” “No, but I want you on the bed.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and practically pulled you out of your chair, leading you back inside. The vodka was almost dropped in his eagerness to get you out of your clothes again, but you caught it in time, leaving it safely standing on the bedside table as he pulled at the ties of your bikini top. As soon as it hit the floor Joe grabbed your hips and turned you towards the bed, giving your ass a small spank as you hurried to lie down. “We should talk about what we’re into,” he said nonchalantly as he followed you into the middle of the bed, kneeling between your parted legs. “What, like bands and books and shit?” “No dummy, kinks and stuff. Since we’re working on a strict time limit, we should probably discuss it, make sure we’re both having fun.” “Okay, now?” “Later, when I’m not eating you out.” You laugh stuttered into a whine as he dropped his head to press a kiss to your bikini bottoms, right over your clit.

He made you cum twice with his mouth and then once again on his cock, fucking you into the mattress while your nails left marks along his back. After, while your legs stopped shaking and your heartbeat slowed back to normal, you and Joe talked some more. He lay on his stomach, head propped up in his hands, looking up at you as he explained that you absolutely could start calling him Beaver, since he felt he’d earned the nickname now. Your fit of laughter hitched as you noticed the clock on his wall. “Shit, is that really the time? I should go,” “Already? You’re ruining my plans Y/N,” “What plans? I don’t believe you’ve ever made a plan in your life,” “Excuse you! I’ll tell you, I had big plans. Plans that involved cuddling you while we drank some more.” “As fun as that sounds,” you chuckled, “if I stay, I’ll fall asleep here. And if I fall asleep here it means I won’t be in my bed in the morning. And if I’m not in my bed in the morning I’ll be in for another lecture about looking after my sister and a whole bunch of questions I don’t want to answer.” “That’s fair, I guess.” “Besides, I’ll be back here tomorrow…or today I guess.” “Okay,” he exhaled the word against your stomach as he left a kiss there, “But I’m going to have to fuck you, hard, to make up for it.” “Oh, of course. Wouldn’t expect anything less. Though maybe something more, a spanking or something.” “You’d be into that?” “Mmhmm,” “We really need to talk about what else we’d be into.” “Tomorrow, when I come back, we can make a list and then check them all off.”

True to his word, when you returned to his room the next morning he greeted you with coffee he’d ordered from room service, and a discussion about which kinks turned you on and where each of your limits lay. But once you had it all sorted out it took almost no time at all for him to have you face down ass up on the bed, pounding you through two solid orgasms as he slapped your ass. And then, after a little recovery, he had you again, a leg wrapped around his waist and your hands pinned to the wall above your head. It seemed that, now you’d actually been together, it was all you wanted to do. In the moments when he wasn’t touching you, you could almost have said you missed it. Missed the warmth of his hands, the taste of his mouth on yours, the way he could make you feel with just his fingers let alone any other part of him. He strongly hinted he wanted to have you again, perched on the bathroom sink like he would have the night he came to your room had you not been interrupted, except that you had to leave. As part of your mother’s punishment for letting Joe get away you were once again on babysitting duty. The whole afternoon was to be spent keeping your eye on Erin while your parents joined a couples only hike. “Honestly, I’m starting to think this was about more than being starved for gossip. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’d convinced herself that we’d miraculously discover we were going to the same college and end up dating for real. That sort of romance novel bullshit. Probably had the wedding planned already.” “Hey, we knew we’d have to steal moments between activities and stuff. At least we can do the whole running-into-each-other-by-accident routine while your parents are away. I’ll help you watch Erin.” “That’s lovely of you, but you don’t have to.” “Y/N what else am I gonna do? Plus I like Erin. She’s a sweet kid, for the most part.” “You will have to keep your hands to yourself though. She spots anything and she’ll go blabbing straight away.” “I think I can restrain myself for a few hours,” “Really? Not been doing so great at the whole restraint thing the last couple of days.” “Fair point. Maybe you should give me an incentive to behave,” “Well if you don’t I might just have to tie you to the bed and edge you for a while,” “I said give me an incentive, not tempt me into misbehaving. You keep making suggestions like that and I’ll finger you by the pool just to make sure you follow through.”

That afternoon was a strong indication of how the rest of the vacation was going to go. You sat on the edge of the pool, watching Erin as she tried to prove she could do a handstand in the water. After you’d been there for about fifteen minutes Joe wandered over, both of you making polite small talk - nice to see you, what have you been up to since golf. Erin didn’t suspect anything, just yelled at Joe to watch her do a handstand before diving back underwater. Joe sat beside you, fingers almost but not quite touching as your feet bumped together below the surface. You chatted as vague acquaintances pushed together by repeat accidental meetings, though if anyone had bothered to listen in they would have heard Joes lewd comments about how your bikini turned him on and your downright obscene response asking if he preferred you in the bikini or naked and spread out on his bed. It was playful and flirty and led to another night of making near pornographic noises as checked off a few more of the kinks you both liked. And that was the routine you found yourselves falling into. You’d spend time with your family during the day, flirt with Joe whenever the opportunity arose, and then spend a good few hours of the night fucking each other’s brains out. On the floor and the bed and with your hands holding tight to the balcony railing. Occasionally, when you had adequate warning, Joe would end up on the same activity your family was doing, making polite small talk with your father as your mother tried to subtly convince him to make a move on you. You found it incredibly nerve wracking but, more than once you took the chance to fool around a little when you became separated from the group. Teasing touches as you both leaned against the same fence to admire a view, stolen kisses behind the bus, and once a quick handjob while you were meant to be snorkelling with everyone else.

On days when your family didn’t do much more than lounge around on the beach you’d make an excuse and disappear for a few hours, and then return hoping you didn’t look to fucked out for them to notice. You used every excuse you could think of – a spa session you’d booked the night before, interest in seeing a hula show or joining a yoga class, or just a desire to get out of the sun for a bit. You even disregarded everything Joe had told you about faking sick being a bad idea, pretending you had period cramps and a headache to get you another whole day to yourself. Joe came to your room that time, letting you pull him into the shower laughing. You’d had to slam your hand over his mouth as the room door opened and Erin yelled something about forgetting to grab the sunscreen before she hurried out again. It was a close call but also a huge turn on. You’d been right when you told Joe sneaking around would make things more fun.

Sometimes you’d catch sight of him and leave your family on the beach or by the pool under the guise of getting a new drink and instead end up with your tongue in Joe’s mouth, practically dry humping around the corner from where they sunbathed and joked around. When they asked what took you so long, you’d tell them it was so busy you’d lost their spot in the crowd. Joe never seemed to mind the sly nature of your meetings or the need to be quick and quiet. He’d spot you and wait for a moment when he could come up behind you and and whisper something about how it was a struggle to keep his hands to himself when you looked so good. Then he’d tell you to meet him in the lobby bathroom or whatever other secluded spot was nearby. When you arrived, he’d waste no time in pushing you to your knees or bending you over with your hands against a wall while he pulled your panties to the side. Whatever was easiest and fastest. The first time you’d been a little surprised, whining as he pushed you against a wall and kissed you hard. “Jesus Joe, I’m coming back to yours in like four hours, you couldn’t wait?” “Those shorts you’re wearing are so fucking hot, can’t blame me for wanting your cunt so bad.” He only got more intent on pulling you into dark corners and private areas when he saw you wearing the jewellery he bought you. You took to wearing the necklace and earrings constantly because every time Joe saw you in them it seemed to turn him on, something about it proving you were his to use, and it’d inspire another mindblowing round of sex, only made more satisfying by the days of stolen moments being as good as edging to work you both up.

It was everything you’d wanted when the idea of a holiday romance first occurred to you. Days spent relaxing, taking in the sun and the sea air and exploring a stunningly beautiful part of the world. Nights spent indulging in casual sex that wasn’t just a laugh but also made you feel incredible, with someone you enjoyed talking to and spending time with. Just what you needed to truly put your breakup and everything about that relationship behind you. It wasn’t ideal, what with having to dodge your family constantly but keeping it secret meant it was just yours and there was something very satisfying about that. All your previous relationships, no matter how brief, had been shared with others. Your mother telling everyone about your first kiss, your friends making you spill details about one-night stands and more long-term partners. But everything that happened between you and Joe was just for the two of you. The distance stopped your friends from getting involved and you were doing everything in your power to keep it away from your family. And that felt really good. Of course, as soon as you got back to college that would change. Enough time would have passed that you wouldn’t have any problems answering your friends demands to know if you’d seduced anyone, Justin Timberlake or otherwise. You’d spill the beans about everything, of course. After all, they deserved to know how right they’d been.

#my writing #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #holy shit ya'll #sorry i made you wait so long #but i think its worth it #i hope so anyway #oh my god

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donteattheappleshook · 5 years ago

Text

Of Cars and Bars Chapter 10/14

As always, thank you Krystal @kmomof4 for all of your amazing beta work and for just being a lovely person. Twice now you’ve talked me out of giving up on this one! This story exists because of and is dedicated to you!

Please enjoy and extra long, extra smutty chapter during your quarantine.

Summary:

Rated E

When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago.

This started out as a smutty two shot about Emma Ruby and Mary Margaret going on a road trip and has evolved into a slow-burn mutual pining angst-fest.

Read it from the beginning on Ao3 and Ffn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Chapter 10 - Circles

It's been years / Since we whispered soft / With the torch light on / And the big light off / We were tired boys / With the soap on our skin / And we'd fall asleep to the wind

"It's so nice to have girls around," Belle sighed as she picked at the last piece of French toast on her plate. Emma, Ruby, and Mary Margaret laughed and she turned bright red. “I mean -”

“We get it,” Ruby assured her. “The guys are great but sometimes you just need to get away from the testosterone and enjoy being around other women.”

“Exactly,” Belle agreed. Emma smiled. Belle had grown up surrounded by boys and continued to spend most of her time with them. She could only imagine how nice it must be to finally have some long-term female company.

“Should we get another round of mimosa’s,” Mary Margaret suggested.

“You shouldn’t,” Emma laughed. “It’s eleven in the morning. You’ll be out cold by noon if you have another.”

They were enjoying another one of those lovely, rare days off - their first since Austin nearly two weeks ago. They’d had a show last night and Emma had come so close to playing her new songs - yes, it was songs now. After that day with Killian, after the silly game that had reminded her of how fun and easy and cathartic it was to write music, she hadn’t been able to stop. It was like the floodgates had been opened and she had finally, finally found her way back to music.

She could do it on her own now. She’d written one or two songs sitting quietly in the back of the bus while the others slept or played cards or browsed the internet on their phones. But she still wrote with Killian when she could - not because she needed his help or support, but because she enjoyed it. Writing with him was fun, it was easy, and it was quickly becoming one of her favorite things to do.

Who was she kidding? Spending time doing anything with Killian was becoming one of her favorite things to do. She tried to convince herself that it was just the fact that they were so productive - she’d have a whole album soon at this rate - and the fact that the celebratory sex afterwards was just mindblowing. But honestly… she didn’t know. She just liked spending time with him. She liked listening to his stories and discovering new little quirks about him, things that were the inevitable result of being around each other so much.

She just… she liked him. Fuck. She liked him. She tried to calm her breathing whenever that little thought made itself known. It’s okay to like your friends, she would remind herself. You like Ruby and Mary Margaret and Belle. You can like your friends. It was just a lot more complicated when that friend set her skin on fire and made her also want to jump his bones whenever he smiled at her. That was where it got blurry.

“Excuse me,” a small, nervous voice said and Emma looked up to see three young, teenage girls standing next to their table. They were clutching their phones to their chests and practically bouncing on their toes. “Are you Emma Swan?”

She looked at them a little skeptically. “Yes?”

Smiles lit up their whole faces. “We’re huge fans! We were at the show last night and oh my god, you were just so amazing! We love your songs! Can we take a picture with you?”

Their words came out in a frenzied jumble and it took Emma a moment to catch up to what exactly was going on. Then it hit her. Holy shit. These were fans. She had fans. She’d been recognized, in a public place, by people who liked her music. She felt starstruck. She realized the irony of that.

“Of course you can,” Ruby answered for her when Emma sat there dumbly with her mouth hanging open. The girls squealed and rushed up beside her and she did her best to smile and not look like a terrified idiot as they continued to tell her how much they loved her and took dozens of pictures.

“Can we take one with all of you?” one of them asked. “You’re her band right?” Mary Margaret and Ruby stood with much more tact than she had and let Belle take a photo of the six of them, smiling and making faces.

“Thank you so much!” the second said as she looked through the pictures on her phone.

The third one piped up then. “Can I ask you, what’s it like playing with Abandon Ship!? I mean, how do you even function? They’re all so hot and so talented, you must just love it.” Emma fumbled for something to say, trying not to laugh as her friends did as well.

“Liam is just so hot,” the first one spoke again. “Is he single?” she whispered, hoping Emma would let her in on some secret. Emma bit her lip to hide her smile, she didn’t want to smile while she crushed this poor girl.

“Actually,” she said, nodding to Belle. “This is his wife.”

The girl looked like she’d been completely deflated. “Oh.”

“What about Killian?” the third girl asked. She was about fourteen.

Emma hesitated. She hated that she hesitated. She didn’t have any claim on him. They had an understanding. And this was a teenage girl, not someone Killian would even be interested in. But still, the words got stuck in her throat before she let them out. They felt wrong coming out of her mouth. She didn’t like that either.

“As far as I know, Killian’s single.”

The girls squealed and thanked them and headed off. Ruby was looking at her. Emma tried to avoid her gaze but then finally met her eyes and glared a little bit. “What?” she demanded. Ruby just gave her a pointed look and a shrug that said ‘you know what’.

Shit. Shit. When had she started caring whether or not Killian was single? When had she started thinking that he wasn’t? When had Ruby noticed? Emma didn’t do jealousy. They weren’t together, they were friends and they were sleeping together. She had no right to get possessive of her fuck buddy. He could do what he wanted. With whoever he wanted. It was none of her business. She didn’t care.

“How can she be his wife if she’s not even with him on his birthday,” they heard one of the girls mutter under their breath when they thought they were out of earshot. It took Emma longer to put it together than it took Ruby.

“What? It’s Liam’s birthday today,” she nearly screeched. Belle shut her eyes for a second, then gave a little sigh.

“Yes. But you can’t tell him you know.”

“Why not?” Mary Margaret asked.

“He hates his birthday,” Belle told them. “He has some weird complex about getting older. He’s refused to celebrate any birthday since his twenty-ninth. It’s stupid but he won’t let me even mention it. He’s having some kind of crisis.”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Emma said. It was.

Belle shrugged. “I know but… well, he never really had birthday parties when he was younger either, we didn’t have the money or parents to throw them for us. By the time he was able to, he felt too old for them. Now he just feels too old in general.”

“How old is he?” Ruby asked.

“Thirty-two.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, he’s practically a child.” A sly grin came over her face then. “We should throw him a party.”

“He’ll never go for it,” Belle said, but she didn’t sound against the idea.

“A surprise party then,” Mary Margaret suggested, getting excited.

“I’ve wanted to throw him a party for years but he’s really got some hangup about his age. I don’t know if it’s because he was always a few years older than us or what but he really doesn’t want to acknowledge that he’s not in his twenties anymore.” She rolled her eyes in that way only someone in love could, like their partner was the biggest idiot they’d ever met and they absolutely adored that about them.

“Okay then, let’s not throw him a thirty-second birthday party. Let’s throw him a sweet sixteen!” Ruby exclaimed.

“Did he get a sweet sixteen?” Mary Margaret asked. Belle shook her head. “Then he’s overdue!”

“Yeah, and come on, everyone knows a party is more for the people throwing it than the birthday boy. It’s our last night before three straight weeks of shows. We could use some fun, unwind," Ruby pushed.

"I’d love to be sixteen again without all the hormones and homework,” Mary Margaret sighed.

Belle smiled, clearly getting on board with the idea. “Okay, I’m in. But it’s going to have to be a surprise - a real one - or he’ll never let us get away with it.”

“Awesome!” Ruby was in full combat mode now. “Belle, do you think you can keep Liam occupied all day?”

Belle hung her head. “Yeah. He’s been trying to convince me to go to this tall-ship exhibit in town. I swear he set up the tour dates just so he’d be here for it,” she groaned, clearly hating the idea of spending her day below deck on a bunch of old boats. Emma was starting to understand where all the nautical puns might have come from. Liam was a secret, giant nerd - just like his brother. “I’ll go with him,” she continued, and Emma could tell that this was really her taking one for the team. “If I let him give me a tour and teach me what he already knows about the ships, we should be there for a few hours at least.”

“Your sacrifice is noted,” Emma said with a teasing smile. Belle laughed.

“Okay, you go ahead and get him out and we’ll round up the others.”

Emma knew there was no sense fighting it. She knew her friends well enough to understand that at this point her best option was to just do as she was told and join in. Besides, a party would be fun. Ruby’s parties were always fun. Mary Margaret’s themed parties were always even more fun. And who knows, maybe she’d get to play a little seven minutes in heaven with Killian. She smirked.

Once Belle and Liam had left, they rounded up the boys and filled them in on their plans. They were met with excitement and a little bit of mischief on the part of all three.

“About time someone makes him get his head out of his own arse,” Killian said. “If he’s going to continue to insist on calling me little brother he’s going to have to eventually admit that he’s older than me.” He smiled. “What do we have to do?”

“We only have a few hours,” Ruby informed them. “Graham and Killian, you guys are on the room and the booze.” Emma wanted to protest, realising her friend didn’t know about Killian’s history but Killian gave her a small smile and shook his head, stopping her.

“What about the room?” he asked. “Are we not just going to have it in Belle and Liam’s?”

“No. This is a party. Their room is a little bigger than ours but barely -” she held up a finger when he tried to speak. “Shut up about your weird brother, size issue. That room is barely big enough for two people let alone eight.” Killian looked a little disgruntled but kept his mouth shut. “When you get the booze, make sure it’s only the kind of stuff you would have drank at sixteen. Shitty beer, wine coolers, vodka, whatever.”

“How are we supposed to get a new room?” Graham asked. Ruby looked at him with amusement.

“Honey, you’re famous now. Go let the staff know that they have rock stars staying with them and I’m sure they’ll gift you the penthouse.” She gave him and Killian a smirk. “And if that doesn’t work go bat your pretty little eyes at them and see what happens.”

Killian looked way too excited about that option. Of course he would be. Emma wanted to roll her eyes. Ruby continued to assign their tasks.

“Mary Margaret, you and David are on food since you’re the two biggest foodies I know.”

“Really?” Emma said, surprised. “David?” She didn’t mean to be rude but she’d watched that man wolf down copious amounts of the nastiest, greasiest diner food she’d ever seen - without complaint.

“Oh yeah,” Killian said. “Don’t get him started on his pancakes.”

David smiled. “It’s all in the cinnamon.”

“Go figure out what the hell sixteen year old English boys eat and do your best to recreate it. Emma, you and I are on decorations.”

Emma sighed, resigned. She really really would have prefered to go help out with the booze or the food but she knew there was no point in arguing. She just didn’t relish the idea of tackling the dollar store with Ruby. She’d made that mistake once before.

The group was splitting up and Emma made a point to check in with Killian. “You sure you’re okay with this? I don’t mind switching jobs.” He was her friend. She was allowed to care if her friend was being put in a position that threatened his sobriety. She hadn’t realised she’d taken his hand until she felt him squeeze hers.

“I’m fine, Swan, Really. We play in bars and I’m used to people drinking around me.” He gave her a soft smile then. “Thank you for checking.”

She cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “Whatever, I’m just trying to get out of shopping with Ruby.”

He smirked, she knew he didn’t buy it. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t buy it either. “Of course, Love.”

“Emma! Let’s go!” Ruby demanded and she sighed.

Killian squeezed her hand again, laughing. “See you soon,” he said before heading off after Graham to try and seduce the poor girl at the front desk. She rolled her eyes again. He was such an idiot. It was one of her favorite things about him.

The dollar store had been gruelling. Ruby had taken a serious ‘divide and conquer’ approach that was followed by her going over Emma’s portion all over again when she inevitably did it wrong. They were making their way back to the hotel now with every single sweet sixteen party decoration they had found in the four closest dollar stores as well as a few other decorations that Ruby had insisted she could make work.

They’d stayed in touch throughout, Killian keeping her informed that they had, in fact, successfully used their ‘dashing good looks’ - his words, not hers - to convince the girl at the desk, and her manager to let them have the penthouse suite for the night. She rolled her eyes at him again. She didn’t know if he was more proud of this rock star status or his seduction skills.

They reached the lobby and met the others there. Graham and Killian gave them their elevator keys and they all packed into the elevator with their bags. Emma tried very hard to ignore the memories that being in an elevator with Killian always brought on. It didn’t help that he was looking at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking and was intending to make good on the promises in his eyes. She wondered if everyone else found it hot in here.

They got to work quickly. Ruby ordered them about like a drill sergeant as soon as they got into the room. Emma barely had time to take in the massive suite. There were three bedrooms and a pullout couch in the living room. Each room had its own bathroom and there was even a kitchen. This room was nicer than any apartment Emma had ever been in, let alone rented. Killian walked up to her as she stared in awe, threw a friendly arm around her shoulder.

“It’s nice to be famous, isn’t it?” he joked. Emma shoved him and he laughed.

“Hey! You!” Ruby called, indicating at Killian. “Get over here and help Graham move the furniture.” They were trying to get stuff out of the way to have as much floor space as possible in the large living area. Ruby insisted it was necessary for the games they would be playing. However, the luxury of this place meant that all of the furniture was equally as luxurious and therefore apparently made out of the heaviest damn material in the world.

“Why doesn’t David have to help?” Killian protested.

“Because David is trying to figure out how and why the hell you would put macaroni into a pie,” David called back from the kitchen where he and Mary Margaret were scratching their heads while putting french fries into sandwiches and figuring out how to deep fry things that should never be deep fried, without a deep fryer.

“Exactly. You’re just standing there flirting,” Ruby added.

Killian sighed but walked over and took his end of the large sofa. Emma couldn’t help herself as she watched them - watched Killian - move the heavy furniture about the room. Her head tilted a bit, her tongue coming out to wet her bottom lip as she watched the muscles flex under his long sleeve shirt. She could see sweat starting to pool on his neck, his face straining a bit with the effort but still, of course, teasing Graham competitively about who was stronger.

Ruby’s arms came around her from behind then, resting her chin on Emma’s shoulder. “They’re not so hard on the eyes are they?” she said with a grin. Emma wanted to scoff but she only laughed. “Come on, you can admit it. You’d have to be blind not to notice.” Emma only smiled. She knew what Ruby was doing. She wasn’t going to give it to her. “Let’s go. You can stare later,” her friend said, poking her in the ribs. “We have decorations to hang.”

By the time they were done, the room looked like a John Hughes movie had thrown up on it. It was pretty perfect. Ruby had done an excellent job making the decorations just cheesy enough to be fun and quirky. The food smelled amazing and the booze was just the right reminder of her sixteen year old self to turn her stomach a little. That would be interesting. Ruby had spent the better part of the last hour getting everything ready for games - apparently there would be a lot of them.

Mary Margaret and Killian had just finished pouring over the playlist of songs that were popular when Liam was sixteen. Was he more of a Geenday fan or Usher? She heard her friend ask. Killian smiled. Britney.

The clerks at the front desk had been instructed to give Belle an elevator key and she’d texted that they would be getting to the hotel in five minutes. They went about frantically, shoving the bags out of the way, tidying up the kitchen and shutting all the lights before finding a place to hide.

Emma tried not to read into the fact that she and Killian had both found themselves behind the same couch. She tried even harder to ignore the way her pulse jumped when he pulled her against him, insisting she wasn’t hidden well enough. She didn’t know what his thumb gliding back and forth against her stomach had to do with hiding. She didn’t stop him though.

The lights came on and they all jumped up, shouting surprise to a very flustered and then slightly annoyed Liam. He looked to Belle who shrugged at him and said something they couldn’t hear. He gave her a little smile.

“Happy Birthday, Liam!” Mary Margaret came up and kissed him on the cheek. “You only turn sixteen twice!” He laughed and let her and Belle drag him into the room. He thanked David as he was handed a packet of onion flavored chips and a Guinness.

“You’re nearly forgiven,” he said to his friend. He looked up as Killian put ‘Toxic’ on full blast. He glared at his brother’s shit eating grin. “You, I’ll never forgive.”

They spent some time eating the surprisingly good, although strange, food. Why is everything in a pie? Emma wondered aloud to the laughter and defensive cries of all the Brits in the room. They even had a little bit of a karaoke party, singing along to all their old favorites. Emma was surprised at how many lyrics she still knew by heart. She was even more surprised at how many Kiley Minogue songs Killian and Graham knew off by heart.

She had way too much fun singing Franz Ferdinand with Killian. She tried really, really hard to not connect the way he was singing the lyrics to her now to the way he’d sung to her five years ago. But there was something about being sung to by this man… no wonder half the world was in love with him. Her heart caught in her throat at the thought. Shit. She needed to stop drinking wine coolers. They were going right to her head, making her think about things she shouldn’t be thinking about. Like how much she wanted to drag him into a closet right now, but also how much she really wanted to be able to reach out and just hold his hand without caring about everyone seeing.

The games were a relief as they were all forced to sit in a circle and Emma chose a spot far enough away from Killian that she wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch him in a way that was not at all friendly or sexual. At least until she could get her brain and her errant thoughts back under control, stop thinking about that middle ground between friends and sex that had been drawing her to him more and more.

The first game they played was Truth or Dare. Graham went first and set the tone for the rest of the game - and the night really. He looked Ruby dead in the eye and asked her, truth or dare. She chose dare without hesitating. Maybe it was the couple of tequila shots Emma had forced him to do with her or maybe he was just tired of hiding it but he dared Ruby to kiss him. The hoots and the catcalls that filled the room were deafening and Emma could feel her face splitting with her grin. It was nice to see Ruby so happy. It was nice to see her with someone who wanted everyone to know they were together too. She looked over at Killian, who was beaming. He winked at her.

Ruby went next, asking Killian who also chose dare. Ruby smirked before daring him to kiss the best looking person in the room. Emma saw his eyes flicker to hers and her heart skipped a little, wondering what he would do, if he would kiss her in front of everyone, what that would mean. He must have seen the panic on her face because he gave her a little smile before turning to David.

“C'mere you handsome son of a bitch,” he said before placing a loud, smacking kiss on his friend’s mouth. David made a show of swooning and fanning himself. She wanted to thank him, thank him for understanding that she wasn’t ready for everyone to know, for not pushing her. But she didn’t have to. He knew. He always did.

The next game they played was Spin the Bottle. That one got a bit weird, especially when Killian was forced to kiss his sister-in-law to their mutual disgust, and when Emma had to kiss Graham. She was pretty sure that David had some kind of special bottle spinning technique because he seemed to continuously land on Mary Margaret whenever it was his turn.

Emma tried not to get annoyed at the fact that she’d now kissed nearly everyone in the room but the bottle had never landed on Killian. She’d wanted to kiss him since this morning when he’d waggled his eyebrows at her while he ran off to seduce his way into a nicer room. Who was she kidding, she always wanted to kiss him. She wanted to do other stuff too… but those were less appropriate to a sweet sixteen party with all of their friends around.

They actually did play seven minutes in heaven. Emma hadn't thought Ruby would make them play this one but here they were, waiting for Belle and Liam to come back out of the closet as they all congregated around the snacks. Both emerged a little less than put together and the group applauded them loudly, throwing in a few crude remarks. Mary Margaret reached over to grab the next name out of the hat.

“Emma!” she shouted and Emma hung her head at the cheers. “And…” Mary Margaret's hand went back into the hat and she opened the little piece of paper she withdrew. She crumpled up in her hand, keeping it down at her side. “Killian,” she said with a challenge in her grin. Emma glared at her. She didn’t believe for a second that Killian’s name was on that piece of paper. Mary Margaret held her gaze for a moment, matching it, and then she winked.

“Lemme see it,” she said, holding her hand out.

“No.”

“Let me see it,” she repeated, reaching for Ruby.

Mary Margaret practically jumped across the room. “No! That’s cheating! Cheater!” she cried as Emma tried to get the paper from her. “She’s cheating! Ref! Cheat!” She turned to Liam who looked confused and surprised.

“Who me?”

“It’s your birthday.”

He made a show of considering it for a long time. “The judge rules in Mary Margaret's favor. Seeing the paper is cheating. And,” he added, pausing for dramatic effect. “As a penalty, your time has been upped to ten minutes in heaven.”

Emma sighed. Shit. First Ruby knew, now Mary Margaret apparently did too. Of course they knew. They always knew. Liam probably did too by the sounds of it. They hadn’t been careful enough. She wanted to care more… but the fear and the anxiety she’d come to associate with anyone knowing about her private life didn’t come. Maybe that was just because she was going to be locked in a small room with Killian, alone finally. Maybe it was just because it was Killian, period.

“Please, Swan,” Killian said, as he opened the closet door for her. “Do try your best to resist me.” She rolled her eyes at him.

The door shut. It was quiet, the music and voices outside muffled. It was dark too, the light having been left off ‘as per the rules’. She could feel him standing in front of her, there was barely enough room for the two of them to fit inside, let alone without touching. His breath was on her face and she could feel the warmth of him. Her heart started to race. She didn’t know at what. He seemed to sense something because he spoke then.

“Really Emma, we don’t have to do anything. We can stand here for ten and then come out looking completely put together and Ruby and Mary Margaret will be none the wiser.” He reached out and found her hand in the dark, did that thing where he ran his thumb over her palm and then her wrist. It slowed her heart a little.

How did he always know exactly what to say, exactly what she needed when she herself wasn’t even sure? He was so kind, so considerate of her feelings and her fears and it made her heart warm to him again in that way that scared her a little. But not as much as it used to. She smiled though he couldn’t see it. Her friends knew. No matter how they came out of here they knew, and Emma suspected they weren’t the only ones. The cat was out of the bag, so why couldn’t she have a little fun?

Emma wrapped her fingers around the hand that was still toying with hers, brought it to rest on her stomach just above the waist of her jeans. She smirked when she felt his breath hitch, his whole demeanor changing at once, his muscles tensed as he leaned in closer.

“And here I thought you’d be all bravado and false promises about how you could get me off in ten minutes.” It was her breath that hitched this time as his hand flattened against her stomach, reached down to the button of her jeans and flicked it open.

He breathed into her ear. “I never make false promises.”

His lips were at her neck then, trailing fire from her ear to the hollow of her throat as he pressed her back against the shelves, sealing their bodies together from chest to hips. She wanted to cry out but she made herself stay silent, not wanting to give the others outside any more fuel. His hips ground against hers, his hand still trapped between them and Emma fisted her hand in the back of his shirt as his fingers curled against her through the denim.

He pulled back, pushing her shirt up out of the way so he could take her breast in his mouth, working her nipple first through the cotton of her bra and then grunting as he shoved it out of the way. The feel of his tongue on her skin made her whine and he shushed her all while pressing harder and more intently against her core with his fingers in a move that was not helping at all.

Everything about his movements was quick and hard and dirty and Emma was already on edge, desperate for him to get rid of the damn barrier between her and his fingers so that he could touch her properly. She hitched a leg up over his hip, tried to pull him in closer, urge him to get on with it. They didn’t have time for teasing. He bit down on her nipple and she had to bite her tongue to stop the moan that tried to come out.

They were running out of time. He needed to be reminded, needed a challenge. She reached for his hair and dragged him away from her breasts, forcing him to pay attention to her voice. “The game is called Seven Minutes in Heaven, Killian,” she said harshly, her breath coming out in pants. He growled, almost sounding disappointed but she also knew that he couldn’t resist a challenge.

He pulled down the zipper of her fly and finally slid his hand inside. A choked moan escaped her as she felt his fingers against her heated flesh and he brought his mouth down over hers, keeping her quiet. He played her skillfully, like she was one of his goddamn instruments, knowing exactly where to tease and where to push to make her cry out. He didn’t waste any more time, sliding two fingers into her and finding her clit with his thumb.

“Gods, Love, how are you so wet?” he groaned against her neck, “I’ve barely touched you.” His voice was low and desperate and it shot heat down through her to where his hand was, causing her to roll her hips against his fingers. “That’s it,” he said into her ear, biting at the lobe as his fingers increased their speed, matching the desperate rocking of her hips. His thumb circled around the sensitive nub, faster and harder with each stroke as her hand buried itself in his hair, pulling it as she tried to ground herself to something. She was probably pulling too hard, it was probably painful, but he didn’t protest.

“Fuck, Emma,” he breathed and she could tell he was watching her ride his fingers, whatever he could make out in the dark. “Fuck, I need you to come.” He increased the speed of his thumb on her clit, pressed down in a way that made her breath stop, made her cling to him like he was the only thing keeping her on this earth right now. “Come on,” he whispered, his tongue and teeth playing at the spot beneath her ear, his other hand finding her nipple through her shirt and working it with the same roughness he was showing the rest of her body, flicking and pinching.

“Yes, yes,” Emma begged in his ear, her voice so low she didn’t even know if he could hear it. She could barely hear it. All she could do was feel as the coil in her stomach tightened more and more in time with the circling of his thumb and the thrust of his fingers and the bite of his teeth on her neck.

He curled his fingers inside of her and she shattered, grabbing on to whatever she could find and all she could find was him. Her hand clutched desperately at the skin of his back under his shirt, at the hair at the nape of his neck as she continued to rock her hips, riding her way through it. She was trying to muffle her cry against his neck, her mouth open and desperate against his heated skin.

She kept waiting for him to pull back, to slide his fingers out of her, to slow his onslaught on her breast and on her clit, but he didn’t. She could feel herself already climbing towards another peak, this one not even finished.

She tried to question him but the words couldn’t come out, her breath ragged and choked as he pressed deeper into her, dragging his fingers against her walls. She threw her head back, she couldn’t handle the intensity of the feelings he was pulling from her, but she needed him to keep going, she was so close to coming again.

“We have ten minutes,” he told her, the words pressed against the hollow of her throat, his tongue dragging hot and wet against the skin there before moving to nip at her jaw, at her chin. His fingers kept pushing and pulling and curling, adding a third and flicking at her clit in a way that made her cry out so loud that his other hand flew from her breast and covered her mouth.

She didn’t care though, couldn’t bring herself to care or be quiet as he brought her higher and higher with teeth and tongue and fingers, her hips rocking against him, teeth biting down on the fingers pressed to her mouth until she came again, this one stronger and more earth shattering than the last. She felt tears stinging at the corner of her eyes as her body shook, convulsing as he brought her back down slowly, his lips soft now, gentle against her temple and her cheek and her lips.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his hand coming to trace the line of her cheek. She didn’t think he’d meant for her to hear it, didn’t think he’d meant for the kiss he placed to her lips to be quite so soft and sweet and longing as it was but she didn’t care. She let him kiss her, kissed him back just as gently and carefully, savoring the feel and the taste of him. Maybe it was just the aftershock of her orgasms that was making her feel this soft and open. Maybe it wasn’t.

They only just managed to right themselves, closing the fly and button of her jeans, Killian pulling his fingers into his mouth in a way that made her desire stir all over again, and then helping her smooth her hair and straighten her shirt before the door opened. Emma did her best to keep her breathing normal as they walked out with as much composure and dignity as they could muster.

She really thought they had their friends fooled for a minute there as they were greeted with a somewhat disappointed silence. Then, Graham saw Killian and erupted in a cheer, David and then the others following soon after. Emma looked at him, trying to figure out what had set off the uproar when she saw it. Killian had a hickey on his neck. She didn’t even remember giving it to him. She saw Killian shoot her a panicked look as his hand snapped up to cover the spot.

She let her face fall into her hand as their friends teased and ribbed them. But it wasn’t as bad as she expected. It was actually the exact kind of teasing she’d have expected if they’d really been sixteen and come out of the closet with a guy sporting a hickey. It was friendly and silly and over with quickly. She gave Killian a small, hopeless smile and a shrug. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal if they knew, she thought. Maybe she had been blowing it all up in her head, letting her own fears and insecurities convince her that she had to keep it hidden. A hesitant smile pulled at the corner of his lips before his cheeks reddened as his friends bugged him. He looked a little bit smug and it made her feel smug too.

The night continued on, there was more karaoke and some silly trivia games about Liam’s past, hosted by a smirking Belle. Emma didn’t get a single question right but laughed the whole way through. They gave him gifts, random, fun things they’d managed to find on their one day out. Emma had found a set of t-shirts at one of the dollar stores that read ‘captain’ and ‘first mate’. The excitement on Liam’s face and the dread on Belle’s was priceless.

Killian played him a song. It was a little cheesy as a gesture but Liam seemed to appreciate it. The song was about growing up together, about brothers. It was sweet and nostalgic and it brought a tear to Liam’s eye as he hugged his brother. Killian came up to her later while people were distracted playing flip cup. She’d stopped drinking a little while ago, one more wine cooler and she was gonna be sick from the memories alone. She also realised she didn’t mind being sober, especially when Killian was too. It let her feel like she could be a little more open, like the others wouldn’t notice or would forget in the morning.

“That was a great song,” she told him. He smiled. “You guys should add it to your set list.”

“Thank you,” he said. “That means a lot coming from you.” She rolled her eyes at him and he mimicked her, exaggerating the gesture and making her laugh. “You inspired it, you know.” She looked at him in surprise. “Really. Your song a few weeks ago, when we were playing the game, it was brave of you to be able to look back on a hard time and be open about it.” He shrugged a little. “It made me want to be brave too.”

She was reminded again by that little passing comment of how similar their lives had been, how much it had shaped them as people - how differently it had shaped them. Her life had led her to be scared, closed off and untrusting of anyone and everyone who tried to get past her walls. But for Killian it had had the opposite effect. He was so open and considerate and welcoming of everyone, so open to love and happiness and friendship that she envied him. She liked that he told her that she'd inspired him, that she’d made him brave. It was nice to know that it wasn’t just her who often found herself challenged because of him.

The party died down around midnight, all of them finding their way into different rooms and comfy spots and drifting off or passing out. Emma woke up suddenly in one of these spots, burning hot. She was damp with sweat and her skin felt like it was on fire. She realised she’d fallen asleep sandwiched between Ruby and Mary Margaret on the pullout couch under an extravagantly fuzzy blanket.

She peeled herself off the mattress, nearly stepping on David who was curled up on a pile of pillows on the ground beside them. She needed to get some fresh air, cool down before finding somewhere less crowded to sleep. She remembered that there was a balcony off of the kitchen and headed towards it. She was surprised to find Liam there when she opened the large french doors. He whirled around, looking like he’d been caught, hiding something behind his back.

“Oh,” he said, relaxing. “I thought you were Belle for a moment.” He pulled his hand back out and Emma saw a cigarette held between his fingers. He turned back to face the skyline, leaning on the railing and took a drag. Emma joined him. “Don’t tell my wife, would you? It’s my birthday and only an occasional indulgence.”

“Tell her what?” Emma said, giving him a knowing smile. He returned it, nodding.

They stood in silence for a while, watching the city below them, still alive in the middle of the night. Emma hadn’t spent much time alone with Liam, still didn’t know if he even liked her very much, but she noticed that he was similar to his brother in some way… he had that same kind of calm aura about him. It was harder, more serious and pensive where Killian was relaxed and carefree, but she found herself unwinding, enjoying the calm and the cool air.

“Has Killian told you much about me?” Liam asked, his voice quiet in the still night. She looked up at him a bit confused by the question. He was still looking out ahead, drawing the cigarette to his lips again.

“Not really. I know you were both in the navy together and that you taught him to play guitar. That’s about it.” Liam nodded, a strange, contemplative look crossing his face that Emma couldn’t read.

“Aye,” he said, still not looking at her. “We were. We both left after… after something very bad happened.” Emma wondered if he was going to continue. His brow pulled down and he flicked some of the ash into the darkness below them. “The official term is ‘friendly fire’. Neither of us were alright after that. Killian nearly lost his hand. It was years of physiotherapy before he could play like he used to again. And me… well, I almost didn't… I almost…" he paused and Emma put the pieces together. "Killian found me, saved me.”

He took another drag and his hand was shaking this time. Emma’s heart was racing, with sympathy for Liam, for Killian. She didn’t understand why he was telling her this. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, almost leaving him alone. Killian doesn’t do well alone. That was around when he found Milah.” The catch in her breath must have given her away. “Ah, so you’ve heard about her. Milah helped him. Helped him heal and helped him deal with all the shit I put him through. He loved her more completely than I've ever seen anyone love before.”

Emma felt tears wetting her eyes because she knew. She knew what had happened to Milah. “When she died… Killian, he…” Liam shook his head and Emma tried to put together the timeline in her head, wondering if that was when he’d started drinking. “Well, let’s just say that dashing good looks and musical talent aren’t the only thing the Jones brothers have in common.”

Emma’s tears were slowly making their way down her cheek now as Liam turned to look at her. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved, someone you loved so intensely that it consumed your every waking moment. Neal hadn’t died but she’d never really recovered from losing him, from what happened. It was another reminder of how closely entwined her and Killian’s lives had been. How maybe that was why she felt so drawn to him, felt he understood her like no one really had before.

“I’m not telling you this to worry you or to make you upset, Emma,” Liam said, finally done with his cigarette and putting it out against the railing. “I just want you to understand that Killian loves with his entire being. It’s all consuming and unselfish. And when he loses that love… it breaks him.” She knew his next words before he said them. Knew this was a warning, a supplication. “So… be careful with him. Don’t let him continue to care for you if you can’t return it, if you plan on leaving.”

Emma wanted to deny that anything was going on, but she couldn’t. Not to him, and not to herself anymore either. She’d tried. She’d really tried to keep things simple, to keep him at arm's length. She thought that she could handle it, that it could just be friendship and sex and nothing more. But she should have known that wasn’t possible - not with Killian. He was too kind and too caring and he knew her in a way that excited her and scared her too. He challenged her and she him. He’d wormed his way into her heart somehow, had found a crack in her walls or had scaled the mile high barbed wire she kept around her heart. He’d brought fun and light to her life and shown her how to be vulnerable again without being hurt. She cared about him. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t anymore. It wasn’t fair to him and it wasn’t fair to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling small and frightened by the revelation and the things Liam had told her. But she also felt hopeful. She nodded at him and he gave her a small, understanding smile. He moved to head back into the room.

“Wait,” Emma said, reaching into her pocket where she knew she still had a pack of gum. She held it out to him. “So Belle doesn’t know.” She raised one shoulder in a shrug and he gave her a small smile, accepting the packet. He took a piece and handed it back to her. He was almost back inside before he paused again, he didn’t turn around as he spoke.

“He’s in the second bedroom. The one on the left.” He walked away, leaving her alone on the balcony. Emma wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure Liam had just given her his blessing.

She didn’t think about it as she headed back into the suite, made her way over to the room where she knew Killian was likely sleeping. She opened the door quietly and paused for a moment. He was asleep, spread out over the covers on his stomach, his face smushed against the pillow and his hair a mess. She smiled a little at the sight of him, for the first time not trying to ignore the little butterflies in her stomach that seeing him always brought. He’d left the blinds open so there was just enough moonlight and light from the skyscrapers for her to make out the shape of his arms and torso, bare and uncovered by the blanket.

She shut the door quietly behind her, kicked off her jeans and socks and left them on the floor. She found a little space on the bed next to him, laughing a little at the fact that he’d splayed himself diagonally across it. She curled up next to him, took a moment to just look at him, appreciate the way the lines of his face were softened in sleep, the way his hair fell over his eyes. She reached out to brush it out of the way, traced his cheek and his jaw with the tips of her fingers.

She couldn’t help herself. She leaned in, pressed her lips to his. He stirred after a moment, seeming to wake slowly and notice her there. At first he was surprised, a small shocked sound leaving him as his hands came up and froze, hovering. But then she felt him relax and he returned her kiss, his arms reaching out to wrap around her, pull her to him.

She hoped, really hoped, that he could understand everything she was feeling, that the way she kissed him, slow and exploratory, and longing, the way he’d kissed her in the closet, was enough to convey the things she couldn’t say, what she couldn't put into words. Because she still didn’t know what they were - still didn’t know exactly what it was that she was feeling. All she knew was that she wanted more and she wanted it with him. She wanted to try.

Killian kissed her carefully, like it was the first time they’d done this, and maybe it was on some level. His lips were slow but purposeful as he pressed them against her own, puling away before dipping back in to kiss her again, his breath hot and heavy and mixing with hers. His hands were still, holding her to him with one on her back and on cupping her face as they lay on their sides, pressed to one another, their legs tangling under the sheet. It was sweet and restrained and meaningful in ways she couldn’t even understand. She'd never been kissed like this before.

She was the one who broke first, overwhelmed by the forgotten emotions that were slowly overcoming her, wanting to explore them, wanting to feel more of them but absolutely terrified of what that would feel like. She rose slowly and pressed him onto his back, moving with him. He didn’t break their kiss, didn’t let it change to the hot, desperate, needy kind she was accustomed to, but she heard the small hitch in his breath as she lay astride him.

They stayed like that for a while, Emma enjoying the feel of him pressed against every inch of her, enjoying the way his hands kept sliding slowly up her back and into her hair. It was almost soothing. She felt safe and comfortable with him here in the dark, surrounded by moonlight and silence apart from the sounds of their breaths.

She rose slowly and pulled her shirt up over her head, Killian’s hands found their way to her hips as she reached behind herself to remove her bra. When she looked back at him, he was staring at her like he’d never seen her before. They’d been naked together before, his hands and lips and tongue had touched nearly every part of her. But they were always rushed, always scrambling to reach their high, never taking the time to look. But he was taking his time now.

His eyes raked over her slowly, his lips slightly parted, an expression she couldn’t read on his face, long enough that she felt her cheeks start to flush. He sat up then, pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his again. She was grateful for the distraction. She kept her lips on his, mouths and hands not wandering the way they usually did. There was just the slow stroking of his fingers over her back, tangling in her hair whenever he wanted to tilt her head so that he could kiss her deeper, explore her mouth with his tongue.

She felt the desire building slowly inside of her, felt it simmering, growing and spreading through her rather than raging like it usually did, like it had earlier. She could feel his own desire pressed against her stomach, felt the way his hand tightened in her hair when she rolled her hips against it.

They moved carefully to shed the rest of their clothes and Emma felt Killian’s lips pressing to her shoulder, to the line of her collarbone, and her throat as she settled back into his lap, each one sending warm shivers down her spine. He held her face in his hand, pressed his forehead to hers as she lowered herself down onto him, letting him slide into her, gasping at the stretch and the fullness.

His hand found its way to her hip, guiding her as she rocked slowly against him. Emma had never done this slowly before, had never experienced the way that the heat and the pressure could build gradually and steadily, pleasure increasing and coursing through her constantly rather than just being an end result.

Small, breathy sounds left her whenever he shifted, adjusting the angle or tugging their hips closer together with an arm across her lower back so that he could grind against her most sensitive spot with every drag of him inside her. Her hands found their way to his hair, his face pressed into her neck as he breathed heavily and more and more desperately against her skin. She could feel it, she was nearly there.

She almost didn’t want it to end, wanted to keep feeling this constant, overwhelming burning inside of her as long as she could. She could feel him starting to shake a little beneath her, could feel the tensing in his muscles and she knew he was close too, knew he was holding himself back.

“It’s okay,” she told him. She didn’t want him to hold back. She wanted to know that this was as intense for him as it was for her - wanted to know that this wasn’t normal, that this was different. He pulled his face from her neck, watching her as she rode him. She rolled her hips against him twice more before his nails dug into her skin and his face twisted in bliss and agony and relief. It didn’t take long for her after that, the sight of him sending heat shooting into every inch of her. One more grind, one more pull and push of him inside her and she was falling, calling out and shuddering in his arms as her back bowed. He held her tightly, both of them allowing each other time to come back down to earth.

His hand found her hair again and he pulled her mouth back to his, this kiss a little more desperate, a little hungrier than the ones before, both of them panting against each other and still shaking from the aftershocks.

When their skin had cooled and their breath had returned to normal, Killian loosened his hold enough for her to be able to climb off of him. She settled on the mattress beside him. He didn’t ask and neither did she. Instead, he just lifted the blanket a little, an invitation, and she slid in against him, curling herself around him and letting herself just be held. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held afterwards. Normally she ran before there was even time to consider it. She didn’t realise until now, until she found herself laying against his chest with his fingers tracing the length of her spine, how much she’d missed it.

Something had changed - with them, yes, but also with her. She didn’t know when or why exactly it had happened, but she didn’t feel scared anymore. It was like with her music. Once she had let herself feel one thing, let herself be okay with being vulnerable, the rest had just fallen into place. She knew it was because of him, knew she’d been ignoring that for far too long now. She didn’t want to fight it anymore.

Killian wasn’t like Neal. She’d never met someone more different from him. It was time she let herself feel something again. Trusted someone, trusted herself to feel something again. He’d proven to her already over and over that he understood her and respected her and cared about her. She was done with doubting him. She curled herself tighter around him, felt him press his smile to her forehead. She closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.

#of cars and bars #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fanfiction #cs au #captain swan au #cs smut #captain swan smut

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iwannawritepls · 4 years ago

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Writing Update 05

Guess who finished. guess. go on guess. That’s right it was me!!

It was pretty intense because my playlist had finished and so I was sat feverishly typing the last paragraph out in silence and then when I went round for the final spell check I was listening to Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths and it finished as I finished and it was a moment.

So so so. in total we have

69069 words (nice) and 102 pages spread over 23 chapters and 5 parts. I can actually go into the plot and stuff now too because I know what that is from start to finish. I won’t go into that here I’ll just talk about the last chapters. Buckle up this ones gonna be long.

Whence last we left off there were 17 chapters and now there’s twenty-three. Chapter seventeen also has an actual name too so yay.

Chapter 17 – Pinches of Catgut

Chapter 18 – Yours Forever, Echo

Chapter 19 – Ink’s Tarnish

Chapter 20 – Red Room

Chapter 21 – Crosshatched Scars

Chapter 22 – Chasing Sundust

Chapter 23 – Amen

Chapter 17 originally is now what chapter 18 and chapter 23 isn’t really an epilogue but it also is y’know? Like the last two chapters are the endings in their own right (I say as if I didn’t stop reading The Darkest Minds seven pages from the end)

But c’est la vie!

Chapter 16 (I can finally explain this stuff woo) we had the fallout to the guy’s being told they have to pay the devil – who isn’t really the devil and is actually a god in his own right but that’s beside the point – back for everything he’s done for them. this one focuses on Valentine and Albert having a bit of a moment where I realised ‘oh gosh everyone is a foil to everyone oh gosh’

Chapter 17 is kinda the same but from William and Basil’s side where they have their own conversation about who Will killed Charlie by accident….yeah…William is still baby he just killed someone that’s fine. This is fine.

Chapter 18 is where shit hits the fan because oh my god James is back!!!!! Idk if I mentioned this but James is Enoch’s dead bf who wasn’t dead at all and I’ve been hinting at it the entre god damned book. I almost didn’t include it but after a talk with one of my friends I realised that James’ being alive would bring in more tea than ever before and well,,,,,,why wouldn’t I?

Oh yeah James also tells Enoch that everyone is coming to find them.

The way I'm explaining this seems like stuff just happens, but I swear I do add threads throughout! I'm just disjointed in my thought process.

Chapter 19 is the beginning of the end. We have a rush to pack as they’re trying to get out and they would have more help from James but Basil doesn’t trust James, Enoch is drunk, William has lost a lot of blood and both Al and Valentine had been asleep so they’re slow and groggy and it’s raining because England and winter and the coast is just a great combination.

Enoch and James end up going ahead cus people are getting close and they need to get their stuff away from there. There were three cases left to tie but they didn’t have time so while James and Enoch go ahead the others are carrying the last three cases to the docks so they can tie and run.

Chapter 20 is where Enoch wraps his beef with Aristide up. kinda. He originally planned on just saying goodbye but then stuff happens and he feels bad for Aristide so he just gives him to the devil without the murder part of it.

Chapter 21 valentine kills his uncle and gets closure™

Chapter 22 this chapter is so good. I love it, I love it so much. I'm still kinda feeling funky about it because its got a flashback and the rest of the book hasn’t got anything exactly like this – unless you consider the small titbit in chapter 17 a flashback. But I really delve into Sebastian’s psyche and before then I kinda hated Sebastian but it feels like he's had a whole ass character arch and I love it. I really love this chapter so much.

And finally chapter 23 is them running and the last of the setup for the next book

I want to include memes but they’re all old stuff. If I have anything new, I’ll insert it if not I’ll keep 5 random facts about the boy’s as my transition.

Albert

When he was a bab he wanted to meet keats before he realised the mans is dead.

Can write in shorthand in both Russian and English just so long as he doesn’t focus too hard on it

Albert is his middle name, Lyonya is his first name

Is a cat person.

Orders the same meal at every restaurant even if they don’t serve it. if they don’t serve it he has a tiny crisis.

Also defo has one of the others order for him

Basil

Defo a gifted and talented student if he was alive today

He's technically an accountant and low key enjoys it

Can fight but is a pacifist by choice

Skipped class once and got bored and never did it again

When they were still at school he would look after the groups deeds to land and do all the legal stuff for them because they had no clue. He still has all of Valentine’s papers and so could technically steal valentines land and nobody would care.

Enoch

Isn’t gay is actually bisexual

Is really good at science but just doesn’t care about it

He ate leek and potato soup exclusively for three weeks on a dare

Once played Mercutio and tripped on stage. Managed to hide it pretty well but hasn’t lived it down.

Would live in an old theatre if he could just for the aesthetic and bragging rights

Valentine

His family is of German heritage

Bakes as a stress relief but gets hyper focused on one thing for ages (tarts is the big one of the year)

Is the mum of the group but wouldn’t ever admit it

Cannot do maths for shit. or much else. He can just speak a lot and paint.

It’s a continuous joke irl and in novel universe that he’s called Valentine, but his birthday is on February 15th because his parents thought it was still February 14th when he was born.

William

Allergic to honey but would eat it anyway

Joined classes three years after everyone else

Is the only one in the group that understands people

Has a really bad centre of gravity and falls over a lot

He's 6’7

Bonus – a wild Sebastian appeared.

Acts 50 is 20

Is just brine

In a constant state of identity crisis

Was he born or did he just appear fully formed? Nobody knows

Always stuck as Benvolio. No matter what. forever. He hates it.

Excerpts! –

“you are a walking disaster.” Basil sighed

“I'm your favourite disaster though.” He could hear the smile in Enoch’s voice.

I just like these lines. Nothing too deep just thought they were funny.

Basil placed a hand on his knee hoping the rain could drown out what the music that followed William could not.

My mans being a supportive friend

He finished pulling the manuscript together and reached for the box Albert kept all his current writings in. it was a small box with darker patches between the broken veins where ink had spit and flowed between the cracks.

i have nothing to say about this

They only had real tenderness with some of the fragile things. A school given copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream, a book by a man called Sashenka Potemkin, teacups with still blooming meadows painted onto them, a book about a monastery, a violin case that had nail marks embedded into the leather, an easel.

Y’know keepsakes are Important but if you’re running shouldn’t you pack light? Probably but these guys are sentimental bastards

The shops were alive with people, the two pubs were open and selling even the tailoress was in business. He wasn’t entirely surprised; worms came out during a storm. They thrived when the squawking of the gulls had disappeared.

We live in a society – Enoch 2019

The gate yielded under his hand, the closest he got to acceptance in the high walls. It seemed colder once he’d walked into the threshold, urging him towards the sickening feeling of unbelonging that sat in his gut. It made him want to turn away and never come back some of the time. How much he didn’t belong there.

Sebastian is yearning™

Basil reached into Albert’s pocket and pulled the crocus out. Albert didn’t react as he did so. he stared at it twirling it between his fingers staring at the petals and their untarnished glory despite having been used to kill them all at least once.

And while that isn’t the last line that’s the end of this. I'm taking a break from beginning anything big and while I want to move onto writing Adalius, Ariane and Adionis’ story I’ll wait for a moment before I do. just because I cant bring myself to think about how I'm starting this yet.

Anyway. That means no updates for at least 3 weeks. I know you’re all distraught. But yeah.

I hope you have a good day.

Thanks for reading this!

BYEEE!

#writing update #i finished something #its the end of an era #i miss my boys already #gosh #whats next #i dont know #i wanna take a nap #im gonna take a nap #thanks for reading this #and all of these #writingupdate #and i love my boys #sisyphus update

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crazy-little-cool-cat · 5 years ago

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Hand in Glove - Chapter 29 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: I have a problem, alright? In the words of the greatest poet to ever live, Mr. Kanye West - “I’m tired. You’re Tired. Jesus wept.” Also not sure if there are any typos left or not so if there are just pretend they don’t exist ok byeeeeee.

Warnings: Smut ahead. Kind of.

Word Count: ~3K

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15 , Chapter 16 , Chapter 17 , Chapter 18 , Chapter 19 , Chapter 20 , Chapter 21 , Chapter 22 , Chapter 23 , Chapter 24, Chapter 25 , Chapter 26, Chapter 27 , Chapter 28

“Do we write our own vows?” Ben asked and handed Rory her plastic spoon. “Like, is that a thing we can do?”

“I think so, yeah.” Annie covered her mouth, speaking while she chewed. She swallowed and made funny faces at Rory. “Can you believe she’s 10 months old?”

“Can you believe we’re getting married next week?” Ben countered.

“No,” Annie confessed. “Not really.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” Annie leaned forward, intrigued.

“I know you said you don’t want a big wedding -”

“Not this again.”

“- but what if we do something small scale? After we get legally married. Just a big party for friends and family.”

“Ben…”

“Look, I humoured you long enough. I’ve basically let you walk all over me. I need something, Annie.” Ben dropped his fork with a clatter. “You’re not alone in this relationship.”

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Annie dropped her fork too. “Why is it so important for you?”

“Because it just is.” Ben glared at her. “This isn’t Shitstorm Annie’s exclusive one-woman show, you know.”

“Call me a shitstorm again. Go on.”

“Shitstorm.”

“You know what?” Annie pushed her chair back. “I’m done.”

“The hell you are. Sit down.” Ben said calmly.

“Excuse me?” Annie scoffed.

“We’re having dinner with our daughter. Sit. Down.” Ben bounced his knee impatiently. “Grow up, will you?”

“How dare you -”

“If you mention me being away in the States again, Annabelle, so help me God, there will be no wedding. At all. Secret or not.” Ben’s jaw jutted forward slightly as he clenched it. “I’m so bloody sick of you holding it against me.”

Annie sat back down, doe-eyed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Ben so riled up.

“Now, listen very carefully, because I’m only going to say this once.” Ben wiped Rory’s chin with her bib. “You got what you wanted. On your terms. Now, it’s my turn.”

“Do you honestly think it’s fair to invite your family to our wedding, when mine won’t be there?” Annie quipped.

“They could be if you invited them.” Ben shrugged. “It’s totally up to you.”

“You are my family, you bellend.” Annie closed her fists. “It’s like talking to a bloody rock.”

“You’re such a control freak, Annabelle.” Ben groaned. “Let it go. For once in your life.”

###

Annie looked in the mirror as she tried on an ivory colored dress. She scrutinized her reflection, nit-picking every little flaw and imperfection she could possibly find.

“Annie you’ve been glaring at yourself for fifteen minutes now.” Jamie held his head in his hands. “Please. You look beautiful. I want to leave.”

“No. This isn’t right. The hem is too long.”

“The hem is perfect.” Jamie sighed. “The neckline is perfect. The waist is perfect. Everything is bloody perfect! You look like a bloody angel.” Jamie stood up and walked over to where Annie stood. “You’re a spawn of the devil, but you look like an angel.”

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Annie looked up at her friend, wide-eyed and childlike.

“I know he will. How could he not?”

Annie fidgeted with the hem of her dress. It went up to just over her knees. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, nodding to herself.

“Alright. Let’s get out of here, then.”

“Thank God!”

###

Ben spent most of his days home alone, working on writing his vows. He bit his nails as he stared at the piece of paper in front of him. His brain seemed to have forgotten how to use words properly, and went completely blank. With the wedding ceremony fast approaching, Ben could feel his entire body tense up from the stress.

They’ve planned the entire day out. Rory will be in daycare. Brian and Roger will meet Ben at the chapel he and Annie picked and triple-checked that is authorised by the Register Office. Jamie will drive Annie from set and bring her there. Once the ceremony is over and done with, they’ll pick Rory up and go have dinner at a restaurant, all three of them.

They even made reservations.

Roger gifted them two of his cymbal rings as a wedding present. Brian said his present will be a surprise. Jamie has done above and beyond to help Annabelle make this wedding happen on her terms, she couldn’t even imagine him giving anything more. In her words, ‘he risked his own bloody marriage for us, that’s more than enough.’

Ben picked up the pen and started drumming a beat on the edge of the table. When nothing came to him even still, he did the only thing he could think of. He started drinking.

###

“Ben?” Annie called from the front door, holding Rory in her arms. “Are you home?”

“Yeah!” Ben’s deep voice carried from the kitchen. “Juss’ doin’ stuff.”

Annie followed his voice and found him sitting in his underwear, in the midst of empty beer bottles, a half finished bottle of whiskey and a sea of balled up papers around him. His hair stuck out in every possible direction.

“What the hell?” she managed to force out through a smile and put Rory down on the floor.

“Well, I -” Ben burped, “oof, sorry. I’m writing the vows!”

“You’re sloshed.”

“I needed to relax, alright?” Ben took another sip of his whiskey. “Get the juices flowing.”

“Ben, where are your pants?”

“I got overheated.”

“What happened to your shirt?”

“I think I’m allergic to it.” Ben shrugged. “Shoo, Annie! You’re interrupting!”

He didn’t even notice the bag she was carrying, he was so keen on finishing the task at hand. With the tip of his tongue poking out through the corner of his mouth, Ben furiously scribbled across the page.

###

“That settles it.” Clara wiped her fingers on her napkin, finishing her lunch. “Your boyfriend is allergic to all clothes.”

“Ha, ha.” Annie rolled her eyes playfully. “He looked like a child doing his homework.”

“Aw, cute!” Mike chimed in. “What was he writing?”

“Oh.” Annie froze, trying to come up with an explanation for Ben’s drunken, naked writing session the previous night. “I think he’s writing a story.”

“A story?” Clara raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Kept telling me to shoo and that I’m interrupting.” Annie hoped her voice didn’t give anything away. “Probably a Clannie story.”

Clara snorted and doubled over laughing.

###

“Ben!” Annie shouted as she entered the house. “I’m here!”

He texted her in the middle of the day that she needs to come home because he is having a serious condition that needs tending to. Ben hardly ever got sick, and when he did - he turned into the biggest, neediest baby. Annie made use of her acting skills and convinced the production team that she’s incredibly ill and could use the rest of the day off to rest.

“Come here!” Ben called from the bedroom. Annie climbed up the stairs in a rush to find Ben standing at the foot of the bed. He looked relieved to see her. “Come here for a second.”

“What’s going on?” Annie looked him up and down, trying to see what was amiss. He seemed fine. Clothes on. Great spirits. “Ben, did you call me home because you got lonely?”

“Lonely?” Ben scoffed. “This goes beyond loneliness.”

“What?”

“Just…” Ben grunted uncomfortably.

“Ben what the hell are you doing?”

“This is serious, okay?” he started to undo his belt and popped the button on his jeans open, pulling the fly down.

“For the love of God -”

“Look at this. Look at it!” Ben stood, his jeans pooled around his ankles, arms outstretched to the sides. He pointed with both hands at his crotch. “Look at how hard I am.”

“I’ll pick up a medal on the way home.” Annie rolled her eyes and turned around.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere.” Ben stated. “This?” he palmed his boxers. “This is just because I was thinking of you. Not even in a sexual way. You popped into my head and there it is!”

“Ben, you had me seriously worried that something might be wrong and -” Annie gasped. “Will you stop playing with yourself?!”

“Only if you’ll play with me instead.” Ben stepped out of his jeans and approached her. “Do you have any idea how much I need you right now?”

“Ben, I lied to everyone to get home as fast as I could and I come home to this?” Annie stepped back. “What is the matter with you?”

“I love you. I want you.” Ben started counting off answers. “I’m throbbing just thinking about you, going about your day.” He swooped forward and grabbed her, pushing his hips forward. “Feel it.”

“Have you gone completely mad?” Annie laughed as he pushed his cock against her tummy. “Ben!”

“We’re getting married. This time, tomorrow.” Ben wrapped his fingers around the column of Annie’s neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And I am so turned on by the mere thought of having you for myself. Forever.”

“You’re a lunatic.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Ben observed.

“Are you high?”

“No.”

“Drunk?”

“Nope.”

“Just utterly insane, then?”

“Yes.”

###

“Nervous?” Brian wiggled his eyebrows at Ben.

“Not really. Just… anxious to see her.” Ben bit his bottom lip and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

The door to the chapel opened and Jamie walked in, holding it open for Annie. As if she was an actual dream, she appeared in the doorway, the light from outside casting a soft halo around her. A flower-crown weaved in her long hair, she looked like a porcelain doll in her Ivory dress. Ben’s breath caught in his chest at the sight of her.

Jamie offered his arm, and Annie held onto it, allowing him to lead her to the altar where Ben was standing with the registrar. She felt wobbly on her feet, and she wasn’t sure if the situation made her so unsteady or whether it was Roger and Brian’s presence there.

“Wait, wait!” Brian said and turned around to grab his Red Special. “Carry on now.”

To the sound of Brian’s guitar playing the Wedding March, Annie walked down the aisle towards her future husband. They both smiled so bright, it was almost blinding. As soon as she reached Ben, she grabbed his hand and held onto it for dear life. The registrar spoke, but neither Annie nor Ben listened. They just looked at each other in pure adoration.

“Hey, space cadets!” Roger snapped them out of their stupur. “Vows?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ben chuckled sheepishly and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Annie. You ran into my life screaming Silly Gwilly and turned my whole world upside down. At a wedding, oddly enough. Never in my wildest dreams did I even think I’d be standing here right now, at this very moment. All it took was one kiss and I knew that you will be mine, no matter what. God knows you didn’t go down without a fight, kicking and screaming.”

Annie chuckled.

“It’s what I love about you most. You’re red-blooded. Fierce. You go after what you want, no matter the consequences. And yet, you listen. You learn. You help me learn, as well.”

Ben smiled as he looked down at the paper and folded it back.

“Today, I vow to love you and protect you, fiercely and forever, with every fiber of my being. Even when you’re irritating me beyond belief. No matter how far away I am, I will always love you and come home to you.”

“Well, then.” Annie let out a shaky chuckle as Ben stuffed the paper back in his slacks pocket.

Her hands shook as she reached for her piece of paper.

“I’m going to start this off by saying this: Ben Jones, you are the most infuriating man I have ever met. I love you for it. You let me be myself, but you put me in my place when I get out of hand. You’re my voice of reason and sensibility. My shelter.”

Ben bit his bottom lip and smiled like a fool.

“You took every notion I had of relationships and companionship and tossed it out the bloody window, reframing my entire mind. Because of you, I let myself leave my comfort zone and I ended up doing things I never thought I’d do. Childbirth was a big one of them. You gave me Rory and Franks, and you showed me what love is supposed to do.”

Annie gulped and took a deep breath.

“You’ve stayed with me through thick and thin, even when I did my best to push you away. You are my soldier. My angel. My worst nightmare, at times. I will kill and die for you. I’ll be there for you through rain and sunshine and the end of the bloody world, for that matter. I love you, fiercely and forever.”

Ben and Annie exchanged rings and went through the motions of the ceremony, signing the wedding register obediently.

Thus, they were pronounced husband and wife.

###

Ben entered the dimly-lit bedroom quietly, smiling at Annie. She the covers pulled up to her chin, a playful glint in her eyes. Rory was sound asleep, and they were married.

“What’re you hiding over there?” Ben asked as he approached the bed. “You’re up to something. You’ve got the look.”

“See for yourself.” Annie shrugged.

Ben lifted the covers and took a long look at Annie’s naked body, her skin pale against the dark sheets. His eyes scanned her slowly, from her toes all the way up to the top of her head.

“Come and perform your husbandly duty?” Annie teased him. “Let’s consummate this bitch.”

They both cracked up laughing as Ben took off his boxers and rolled into bed next to Annie.

“Is it strange that it feels like the very first time again?” Annie whispered.

“Not at all,” Ben cleared his throat, and leaned in, his lips just brushing Annie’s. “I’m even more nervous now, actually.”

“Yeah?” Annie smiled and felt her body melt into Ben’s touch as he nodded and run his fingers through her hair. “Maybe it’s -”

Ben cut Annie off with a lingering kiss to her lips. Pulling apart, a blush rose on their cheeks as their heartbeats picked up. They’ve done this over a million times now, but never as husband and wife.

Annie caressed Ben’s jaw, looking up at him in awe. He smiled and kissed her lips again, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her lips. They weren’t usually this tender with each other, but this time was different. They couldn’t explain how so, they just felt that it was. They had forever, now. No need to rush.

Ben rolled himself on top of Annie, leaning his weight on his forearms. Their kiss deepend, changing from soft and sweet to feverish and needy. As Annie spread her legs wider, Ben slipped inside of her, pressing his forehead to the pillow, right next to Annie’s head. A whole flock of butterflies unleashed themselves as he moaned in her ear, bottoming out.

They stayed still, physically connected. Annie ran her hands up and down Ben’s back, her hips rolling slightly. Giving Ben a physical hint - she needs movement. Friction. Ben pulled himself almost all the way out and slammed himself back in. Annie’s soft moans were music to his ears.

###

“Good morning, Mrs. Jones.” Ben’s raspy voice woke her up the next morning.

“Time’s it?” Annie mumbled into the pillow.

“The sun is just coming up. Was about to go have a piss but then I saw you.” Ben snuggled closer to her. “Bodily functions can wait.”

“Mmm.” Annie moaned softly, still sleepy.

“Fiercely and forever.” Ben whispered as she drifted back off.

“Fiercely and forever.”

###

“Mum. Dada.”

Ben and Annie froze in their tracks as they went about making breakfast and getting Rory ready for the day.

“Did she just -” Ben pointed at his daughter.

“Dada. Mum!”

Annie looked at Ben, frowning.

“Mum mum! Dada!” Rory cooed and chattered, clapping to herself.

“Yes, baby?” Ben spoke. Rory turned her head and flashed him a somewhat toothy smile.

“Dada!”

“Oh my God!” Annie gasped. “Did she just say her first words?”

“I think she did!”

“Oh, my clever Aurora!” Annie picked her up from her highchair and cuddled her. “Such a smart girl!”

###

“You still want your little ‘party’?” Annie asked Ben about two weeks later. “For the family and friends.” She clarified when Ben looked at her as if she spoke in tongues.

“Yeah. Yes.” Ben nodded.

“If we do that…” Annie started.

“We’ll do it right. Plan ahead, at least six months. Make it perfect.” Ben smiled. “Are you sure?”

“You deserve it.” Annie shrugged.

“You will be the death of me, Annabelle Lee-Jones.” Ben sighed and walked over to Annie, squeezing her in a hug.

Annie’s stomach flipped and turned, making her sick. Third day in a row.

“Again?” Ben called after her as she bolted for the loo. “Maybe you should see a doctor?”

###

“Come again?” Annie looked at Dr. McCarthy, her mouth open in shock. She thought she misheard. She was sure there has to be some mistake. “I’m what, now?”

“Pregnant. With child.” Dr. McCarthy kept her face and voice even. “You have a bun in the oven, love.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Facts are facts, dear.” Dr. McCarthy pursed her lips. “The IUD is effective, but not 100%. 99.2%, actually. Seems like you’re the goddess of fertility and your partner has some almighty sperm because nothing can stop you two from making babies, it seems.”

“Are you serious?” Annie’s hands started shaking. “This can actually happen?”

“Rarely, but yes.”

“Huh.” Annie huffed with a frown. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“Yeah.”

“So, do we just keep it in there? Let the spawn play with it while it grows?” Annie grimaced.

“Well, no.” Dr. McCarthy said, slipping on her latex gloves. “The thing’s coming out. Now.”

“Oh boy.”

########

TAGLIST: @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @qweenly @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @justgivemethekeys @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @deacy-dearest @pinkmarvel @onceuponadetectivedemigod

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yeppeojiwrites · 6 years ago

Text

beauty and a beat (unofficial chapter)//bang chan

warnings: a little bit of swearing but like twice so don’t worry

pairings: bang chan x female reader (she’s a little bit of an oc)

word count: 2,499

yo!

so this isn’t an actual chapter of beauty and a beat but it serves as a kind of informational (??is that the right word??) chapter about the relationship between the reader and chan and why chan likes her. there will be more unofficial chapters like this in the future for different characters.

(previous / next)

plain text is english

bold text is korean

bold italicized text is korean with honorifics (noona, hyung, unnie, oppa, etc.)

Chan has had feelings for you from the first time he talked to you.

In the first video call the two of you had back in May 2018, he found himself enamored of you. He found you so beautiful, with your then chin-length dark brown hair and your milk-chocolate skin and pretty eyes, and the way you talked and explained things...he knew that you would be not only a great musician to have helping his group with their next few albums but a great person for him to have a romantic relationship with.

The romantic relationship thing fell flat when he found out that you were 17 years old turning 18 while he was 19 years old turning 20. That’s fine, he figured. We can be friends.

His impression of you only grew when he found out that you were basically fluent in Korean. “Why did you learn it?” he asked in genuine interest.

“I got into K-Pop when I was 10 years old in 2011. My first song was ‘Hot Summer’ by F(X) and not too long after ‘Hot Summer’ was released, ‘Be Mine’ by Infinite came out and by then I was sold.” you started.

“Ah, I remember when those songs came out! I was 13 years old and it was my first summer in South Korea after I became a trainee,” Chan reminisced. “But continue, sorry.” You smiled and waved off his apology.

“Don’t worry about it. But as I was saying, in my tween obsession, I took it upon myself to try to learn Korean so I could understand what the artists were saying in their songs. So, I started by watching lyric videos on YouTube and writing down the Hangul and the English translations and then I watched dramas like, um, Boys Over Flowers and The Heirs. By 2015, I could understand and read Korean but my pronunciation was weird so I joined some language exchange apps where I met some really nice people, as well as some really weird older guys, but the really nice people and I exchanged information and we would video chat and after a while my grammar and my speech improved.” you said. “That was a lot, I’m sorry.” you apologized. This time he waved you off.

“Don’t worry!” he laughed. “So how did you get into music?” he asked you.

“My parents have had me in piano lessons since I was 5 years old and vocal lessons since I was 7, but I stopped after I turned 14. My dad was very involved in music production. He used to write jingles for commercials and he helped make some demos for music made by smaller artists. I think my mom told me that he proposed to her with a song he wrote himself.” you laughed.

“But when I was 14, my dad got into a really bad car accident and he was stuck in a coma and was basically brain dead, so we...you know. That was a tough time for me but music, especially K-Pop helped me through it. My dad had a small home studio set up in a room in my house and before he passed, my dad taught me how to use everything. So I would do little projects where I made songs that I wanted to hear. The first project that a company decided to use was called ‘Eclipse’ and it was something I made in October 2016 and posted on a website where producers share demos or instrumentals, and production companies can buy them to use in songs. I was contacted in January 2017 by a newer company called Blockberry Creative who wanted to know if they could use my song for their upcoming girl group and I agreed.”

“Do you know what the song is now?” Chan asked. You nodded.

“It was released in May 2017 for the debut of the Loona member Kim Lip. They decided to keep the title the same.” you tell him. “Have you heard it?” you asked him. He shook his head.

“I’ll play it for you,” you said, pulling out your phone.

“Wait, no.” he says. You look back at your laptop in confusion.

“What?” you asked.

“Sing it.” he says.

“It would be better if I played it,” you say shyly. A smile spreads across Chan’s face.

“You can’t be shy now. We’ve already started the partnership and I’m going to need to hear your voice anyways, so why not start now?” he asks. You bite your lip in hesitation before sighing.

“Fine, but only because of your dimples.” you agree which causes Chan to laugh.

“My dimples?” he asks.

“Yes, now do you want to hear me sing or not?” you ask him in a fake serious tone.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“I’ll sing the Korean version since I forgot the lyrics to the demo. Are you ready?” you ask him, a little nervous.

“I can feel your nervous energy through the screen. It’s fine, don’t worry okay!” Chan reassures you. You sighed one last time before you began.

“It begins eclipse

In the shaded shadows where you and I meet

It happened in the fate

The light which is lighted by mind of us

Come closer to me

This is eclipse

I can’t keep my eyes off, so will you be with me continually?

Unforgettable eclipse, it’s destiny.”

Chan felt himself in even more awe. You were nervous for no reason. Your voice’s timbre was beautiful and your breath control and technique had to have been professionally learned.

“How would you feel about joining JYP Entertainment as a trainee?” Chan joked which caused you to laugh.

“I’ll think about it,” you laughed.

From that night in May, you and Chan created a great friendship.

You’ve both seen each other at your worst; Chan seeing you at your worst first. Finals week sucks.

Time differences were very hard. With Seoul being 14 hours ahead of Chicago, someone was always going to bed late while someone was waking up early. Each day that you had school, you would spend a couple hours doing homework before videochatting. Both of you were fatigued for a while but when school ended for summer break, you had much more time to work.

“Hey Chan?” you asked one night while the two of you were working on “M.I.A”.

“Hmm?” he hummed as he played a beat over and over again on the computer.

“Have you heard of this rap group from SoundCloud called 3RACHA?” you asked him. He smiled a bit.

“Yeah, why?”

“They’re pretty cool and they have really good songs.” you sighed.

“Yeah, I think they’re really good too,” you said.

“They haven’t made a song since like 2017 though,” you said before groaning. “They need to comeback so they can save the South Korean rap industry again!” you exclaimed. He laughed.

“I’m sure they’ll come back soon.”

“I wonder if they’re handsome,” you tell him, leaning back in your chair.

“I think they are, especially CB97,” he said, moving a sound clip to a part of a song he was recording.

“Oh, have you met them before?” you asked, leaning forward in your chair.

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” he said.

“I’m gonna Google them to find a photo,” you declare.

“Hm, alright,” he responds.

“Th-ree-ra-chaaaa,” you mumble as you type in the search bar. “Oh, a ‘P.A.C.E’ lyric video!” you say excitedly. Suddenly, your eyebrows begin to furrow.

“CB Ninety- Chan you motherfu-You’re the fakest person I know! You’re literally the fakest person on the planet!” you yell.

“So are we hot?” he asks, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Choke,” you say flatly, to which Chan laughs.

“Hey Chan, I got an email from this company called KQ Entertainment,” you told Chan one day via FaceTime in September.

“Oh, Ateez’s company! Changbin knows one of the members.” Chan says. “What did they email you about?”

“They want me to come to South Korea to work as a producer for Ateez’s next few albums. KQ will pay for my living expenses and everything.” you tell him. Chan’s head snaps to face you on his phone screen.

“Like...this South Korea? The one I’m in right now?” Chan asks dumbfounded.

“Uh, yeah,” you tell him.

“Have you talked to your mom about this?” Chan asks, trying to tone down his excitement in the event that you tell him that you can’t go.

“She says that I can go and my sister thinks that it’s a great idea...” you trailed off.

“Then why do you sound so sad?” Chan asked you.

“I visit my dad’s grave every two weeks. I have money saved up from birthdays, Christmas, Easter, royalties, the money from JYP for helping you guys out with I Am Who and I Am You and other odd jobs that I’ve taken up over the years and I can afford to fly to Korea but...I don’t know. I know that some people think of this as a job of a lifetime...but I just...I don’t know, Chan.” you sigh. “What should I do?” you ask him. Chan felt his heart hurt at your facial expression.

“I don’t know what I would do. If you want to come here, maybe take something of your father’s like a shirt or a photo of him,” Chan suggested. “Wouldn’t you be able to work from your house?” he asked.

“KQ feels like it would be more efficient if I lived there so I could be easily accessible and so time zones wouldn’t be an issue.”

“How badly do you want to go?” Chan asked you. You laughed slightly.

“It’s been my dream since my demo for ‘Eclipse’ was first used,” you tell him. “I hadn’t thought about it prior to my demos being used.”

“Follow your heart, (Y/N),” Chan tells you. “Do you hear me?” he asks you. You nod.

“I have to go soon, we have to start filming the music video for the title track that YOU helped me work on in SOUTH KOREA,” Chan said.

“Are you trying to influence me?” you laughed.

“Maybe a little bit,” he said. “Bang Chan, we need your for filming!” you heard a voice off-screen.

“I’ll be right there,” Chan said to the source of the voice.

“I’ll let you go, Channie. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime, (Y/N),” he replies.

“Chan, one last thing!” you tell him.

“What?”

“You look really handsome with your curly brown hair.” you tell him.

“What what-” “See you later, Channie!” you say before hanging up.

He sighed, his cheeks reddening. Minho came up next to him. “Who were you talking to that has you so flustered?” he asked.

“No one,” Chan replied, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“Oh, it was (Y/N), wasn’t it?” Minho said, leaning closer to Chan.

“No,” Chan said unconvincingly.

“Yes, it was, you cradle robber!” Minho exclaimed.

“Are we talking about Chan having the fattest crush on Lav?” Jisung comes over, taking a sip from a bottle of water.

“No, we aren’t, and no, I don’t have a ‘fat crush’ on Lav,” Chan groans.

“Oh he totally has a crush on Lav, he’s a cradle robber.” Woojin said, standing up next to the forming group around Chan.

“I’m not a cradle robber!” Chan exclaimed.

“That’s totally something a cradle robber would say,” Jisung whispers to Minho who nods in agreement.

“I heard that,” Chan warned.

“What did (Y/N) say?” Changbin asked, coming up from behind Chan. Chan shifted a little bit, knowing his younger member’s feelings towards you.

“KQ Entertainment emailed her about coming to Korea and working on a few albums for their new boy group,” Chan said.

“So she’s coming here?” Changbin asked, excitedly. Chan relished in knowing he had the ability to change Changbin’s mood with a single phrase.

“She wants to but she isn’t sure if she can,” Chan says. Changbin’s happy mood changes into a dejected one. Jisung throws an arm around Changbin.

“Here’s the other cradle robber,” Jisung teases, poking Changbin’s cheek.

“I’m not a cradle robber,” Changbin exclaims, pushing Jisung off of him.

“That’s something a cradle robber would say,” Minho whispers.

“You guys are annoying, I’m going to go film,” Chan says, standing up from his chair.

“Make sure your scene looks nice for Lav!” Minho yells. Chan ignores him.

“Hey, Binnie, did your scene look good for Lav?” Woojin asks Changbin.

“Chan’s right, you guys are annoying,” Changbin says as he walks away in the opposite direction as Chan.

“I hope their rivalry doesn’t split us up,” Woojin says, crossing his arms as he looks between the two boys.

“Me too,” Felix agrees.

“Channie?” you say into your phone, your speech slurred from sleep. It was two in the morning after all.

“Lav? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Chan asked worried.

“I’m gonna go to Korea,” you tell him, your pronunciation a bit off.

“What?”

“I just had a dream that I went to Korea, and it was great and I feel like things would be just as great in Korea as they were in my dream. I’m gonna go to Korea.” you tell him.

“What about your dad?” Chan asked you. You sighed.

“I’ve gone four years without him. It’ll be tough, but I’ll be able to go four more years if I have you and the rest of the guys by my side.” you tell him. Chan smiled.

“Why are you telling me this in Korean?” Chan laughed.

“I wanted to see if I could speak Korean while half-awake and I feel like what I’m telling you is more meaningful when it’s said in Korean.” you slur.

“Go to sleep, (Y/N). We can talk later.” he says. You hum in agreement.

“Good night, Channie. I love you.” you tell him before hanging up.

“Wait Lav-” the line beeped.

“I love you too.” he whispered.

“Cradle robber!” Jisung sang as he passed the doorway to Chan’s dorm room.

“Shut up!” Chan yelled.

Chan received a text from you on November 17, 2018, at 1 PM in Seoul, before a variety show appearance.

1 new message from lav <3

lav <3: channie!!! look!!! it didn’t hurt that much!!

attached image

Chan clicked on the image and his eyes widened. You had gotten a small-ish tattoo of a stalk of lavender on your left forearm.

chan: SDKLFSJLKFJ what did you do??????

lav <3: are you blind?? i got a birthday tattoo!!! i’ve been 18 years old since the 10th!!!

chan: (y/n) it looks really nice! it complements your skin tone!

lav <3: thanks!! it stings and i’ll have to put the tattoo solve on it for a while but it’s TOTALLY worth it. i’m getting another one next month!!

chan: where?

lav <3: don’t worry about it, channie

chan: what do you mean???

lav <3: not like that!!! the odds of you being able to see it are VERY slim though

chan: ???? that doesn’t worry me any less but go ahead i suppose

author’s note:

here’s something that describes the relationship between the reader and chan and a little bit between chan and changbin!! i have yet to start working on the third part of the actual fic BUT i’m going to start tomorrow. alright homies, its 10 pm and i have school tomorrow so i’m going to dip!! see you guys in the next one!

ellie <3

(previous / next)

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #chan scenarios #kpop scenarios #yeppeojiwrites

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