#my cat is sprawled over me i think she felt my mood change

[citrine-elephant]

mmm wait, hold on.

leon being captured and interrogated.

but, he's been in such a survival state for too many days straight that he's kinda just operating on fumes.

when the session begins, he's already kinda just checking out.

right away, there's something off.

leon's quiet, not unexpected for skilled professionals hellbent on protecting secrets. but he's just not super responsive. clear exhaustion, and yet there's that lack of adrenaline spike in him. he looks more miserable than angered, but even that is muted.

the little things they deploy to make him uncomfortable do work, but he's a hell of a lot more venomous in his reactions than expected. it just carries a different air to it, the way he nearly snarls. the way his brows scrunch together with a visible sign of torture they haven't even inflicted. migraine, or a regular headache.

interrogators get kinda... concerned? they've dealt with their fair share of people like leon. but it really just brings out a genuine, "are you.. okay?" from the guy who's supposed to be beating the shit out of him for information.

ends up prying info out of him too easy, but not the original intent on what they wanted.

turns out, the interrogators are kinda chill. it's not even a tactic to get him to warm up, sitting down and having a meal with them. seeing his hesitation, and then feral devouring. cat just needed some food.

it's a real option, a choice on leon's part, when he's asked, "so, uh, could we talk about that thing...?"

[amerie-wadia]

Release

For the prompt: "Shelby telling Toni it’s okay for her to make the first move sometimes and maybe being insecure that it seems like she’s the only one reaching out for physical contact but Toni just doesn’t want to scare her away."

hope you like it, anon :) click here to read on ao3

Shelby reached out—Shelby always reached out. Reached in the empty spaces between curls, between sun freckles, between moments of pure silence with ocean water spinning around them like a vortex. A hand to hold, a cheek to caress, lips to kiss. And Shelby stretched her arms out so far and so wide that she sometimes wondered if she could reach the edge of the earth, the point so deep into space that she lost it all. That maybe Toni would pull back when she pushed forward and they would collapse.

Sometimes Shelby wished Toni believed in God because it would make everything so much fucking easier. Or maybe harder, in certain ways.

There was nothing she could do to change the parts of Toni that felt distant and too different, scary and uncertain. Not that she would—she might. It was exhilarating being around someone so polar opposite to herself and to her life. Toni was everything Shelby wasn’t. Toni was selfless and reckless without guilt and soft like the underbelly of a cat. She would grin and blush when Shelby ran her fingertips from the tip of her jaw until they locked in a loop behind her ears to keep them both steady as she leaned in for a kiss.

It was the brightest rainbow Shelby had ever seen and it was sweeter than any candy she could name. It was Toni. It was incredible.

It was also a bit infuriating.

Not being Shelby didn’t like it, on the contrary, Shelby cherished every second she spent around Toni. The moments were fleeting at first: stolen kissed behind the trees and midnight whispers beneath the crackling fire and perilous sky. Overtime, as they opened up about their relationships and the days grew colder, the moments slowed to halt and paused the entire universe. Shelby could lay next to Toni, her hand draped over Toni’s waist, and it felt like hours. In some ways it was a comfort, in others a curse.

Because it always Shelby reaching out.

Perhaps it was a stupid thing to feel insecure about. And yet, she did. Toni never initiated anything. She never reached first or leaned in for the kiss, not physically nor emotionally. At first, she was simply following Shelby’s lead and it made sense, it was safe, it was everything Shelby needed. But it had been months and Shelby didn’t need that anymore. Not on the island, not with Toni.

And Toni still hesitated.

“You know, Toni,” she murmured one evening as they lay sprawled around each other as the sun set off in the distance. They had hidden away in the cave that night to get away from the others, to have some privacy. The girls were cool about everything, all the time, but that didn’t mean they wanted to be around the other every moment of the day. Shelby tightened her grip on Toni to try and pull Toni into her mind. “You can kiss me first.”

Toni tensed, flipped over so she was laying on her belly with more space between them suddenly than there had been in weeks.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wreck the mood…I just,” Shelby trailed off, picking at the grass to distract her hands from reaching out. “I just want you know that you can, if you want to.”

Toni hummed, an indulgent agreement that clearly meant something different to Toni.

“It’s just that it’s always me, you know? Like I can do it all, if that’s how you want it. I just need to know that you still want it.”

“Want it? Of course I want it, Shelby,” Toni stated surely, meeting Shelby’s gaze with a heavy one of her own.

“It doesn’t always feel like you do anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

How was Toni not getting it, she had laid it all out quite explicitly.

“Don’t you ever get this crazy desire,” Shelby began, looking up at the sky so nothing in her peripherals could cloud her fantasies, “to just reach out and hold my hand? Or kiss me in front of everybody. Dive into a bush or something?”

“You want us to dive into a bush.”

“You’re not listening to me,” Shelby reprimanded, shifting her gaze back to Toni who looked far too amused to be paying attention to what Shelby was feeling.

“I’m listening,” Toni said, more softly than before without the flicker of humor her voice normally held. Toni shuffled sand around in her palm and Shelby didn’t understand why she couldn’t just reach out and hold Shelby’s hand instead.

“I don’t know how to say this without feeling really stupid.”

“Nothing you say sounds stupid.”

Warmth. Light. Weight. Heart. This was still Toni, still the only thing in the world that could ever make her feel so at home in herself and in the world. She sighed and took a moment to process her next words.

“Before we were together, I always thought that you…” Toni’s eyes narrowed in confusion and intrigue and Shelby paused, not liking the words floating around her head. She needed to be gentler—why are you so scared to initiate anything? “Are you comfortable, like, with us?”

“Of course, I’m comfortable with us. Where is this coming from?” The sand dropped between her fingers and Shelby wanted to hold her hand but it felt like she would stop herself from asking what needed to be addressed.

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“And you still want this?”

“Shelby,” Toni whispered, the raspy and musky voice that could set Shelby’s heart on fire if she didn’t tread lightly.

“I’m serious. If you ever don’t want this, everything will be okay. I don’t want you to feel trapped, or like if you ever need some space that everything will be awkward and it’s a small island and—,”

“Shelby,” Toni interrupted, still keeping her distance but her eyes were wide and full and she looked a bit afraid. The sky was getting darker and Shelby realized suddenly that they had missed the green light. “I want to be with you.”

“Then, baby,” Shelby tried to keep her voice gentle and steady because she felt overwhelmed and somehow already on the verge of tears. Maybe if she started crying then Toni would reach out and wipe her tears away. Or hold back. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re asking me what’s wrong? Shelby, are you okay?”

“Stop deflecting everything I say!”

It was louder and more spiteful than she intended and Toni tensed again, inched back subconsciously.

“I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, Toni. It’s not fine. It’s not fucking fine if I yell at you!” The yelling might have been contradictory but Toni needed the banging of a gong to feel the rise and fall of her chest sometimes. “You stand up to everything but me.”

“I don’t need to stand up to you anymore, you don’t do anything to hurt me.”

“Then why can’t you trust me?”

Toni’s jaw didn’t actually drop like a cartoon character’s often would, but Shelby could see her jaw fall inside her cheeks and the spark in her eyes dim.

“What?”

“Why don’t you trust me, Toni?”

“I trust you.”

“Then come to me,” Shelby cooed, finally letting herself reach out and hold onto her girlfriend. She let her hands graze Toni’s shoulders and dance up her neck to cup her jaw. “Why are you still holding back?”

Toni opened her mouth to say something but just as quickly she closed it and shrugged, her eyes flitting between Shelby’s and the sand below them.

“Promise me again that you still want this.”

“I promise,” Toni whispered.

“Then tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what’s going on in here,” she pleaded, letting one hand caress Toni’s forehead.

“I know how hard it can be,” Toni started and Shelby crept closer to show Toni she was really listening. “The pressure and figuring it all out and the worry and I just…I just want you to be able to let it all go and know that whatever you want, you can have.”

“Toni.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t to, be anybody but yourself. Not with me.”

“And I think I’ve shown you that,” Shelby explained, loving the feeling of Toni’s own hands reaching out to wrap around Shelby, turning them both so they lay on their sides facing each other instead of brushing beside each other. Shelby tugged them closer by the straps of Toni’s top.

“You have. I mean that, I just never want you to feel like you have to do things for me that you don’t want to do.”

“Like what?” Shelby asked, hearing a teasing tone enter her voice, “Hold your hand?”

Toni shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“I always want to touch you,” Shelby whispered, brushing her hands across Toni’s skin like a paintbrush. “To kiss you.” She pressed her lips on Toni’s cheeks close enough to her lips that they floated closer into each other’s gravity but not close enough to make it stick. “You can come to me first, if you want.”

“I know.”

“I promise, I’ll tell you if there’s something I don’t feel comfortable with.”

“Promise?” Toni asked, eyes hopeful.

“Only if you’ll do the same.”

“Promise.”

“Good, then I promise too,” Shelby announced proudly, pressing her lips against Toni’s this time. She could feel Toni melting beneath her and she moved her arms from Toni’s neck to her waist to bring them chest to chest. Toni wiggled happily beside her, warm and electric as always. When they parted her cheeks were flooded in pink. “You make me feel safe, Toni. You’re the only person who has ever made me feel this way.”

“You make me feel, uh, safe too.” Her face had gone red and it was so endearing Shelby could almost scream. Instead she buried her head in Toni’s neck and let herself shut her eyes.

“We need to getaway more often.”

“How will be ever find a good sitter for the kids, though?” Toni teased. Shelby chuckled and broke out of Toni’s embrace long enough to kiss her forehead and tug Toni against her chest. Toni nestled against her instantly.

“We’re good.”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Toni agreed, pressing a feather-kiss against Shelby’s wrist.

It was small, but it was a start.

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter Seven

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frightened by my feelings

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☽ a/n: i'm so sorry for the long wait! i've been in a mood.

☽ warnings: internalized homophobia

☽ fic masterlist

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Alberto broke away from Giulia's hand clasped in his own and listened to their steps (his silent, always barefoot but Giulia's sandals slapped the boards unpleasantly) up the rickety staircase to the hallway. Mismatched pairs of socks and a few pencil shavings led them off in a distinct line to Alberto's room, ending at his door, a sign to anyone else in the house that Alberto had been rummaging through the downstairs cupboards at night; whereas Giulia's room opposite his, clean when she wanted it to be, teeming with school books and Machi's homemade cat toys and plant life, had no such trail.

"You know, come to think of it, this makes much more sense now," Giulia mused, her eyes fixed on her toes as Alberto abruptly stopped them at the doorway to his room.

Alberto felt a headache start to blossom beneath his eyelids, above his browbone. A throb with no rhythm but all the more pain to make up for it. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the steadying weight of the doorframe pressing on his shoulder as he leaned on it. Giulia knew, but she...also didn't. A tiny fleck marked the frame and only became apparent in his blurry vision, just a chip on the wood. Stripped of paint and sticking out against the cream walls in an ugly slash.

He trailed his thumb along the divot, feeling the splinters biting underneath his calloused hand. Giulia was still talking, ignoring his silence. The tension only grew the longer Alberto hovered at the door, refusing to open it and let all of those things come seeping out, with Giulia's smug remarks making the pain reach a high point.

"...I'm not nearly as obvious about, uh, my thing as you are. I don't go painting pictures of him--which I'm almost positive you do, by the way. Oh! And Papa's camera? You took photos, too? Santa mozzarella, Alberto, this is just like a soap opera--"

Alberto's thumbnail dug into the wood. "Yeah, okay Giulia, we get it. You're such a genius or whatever for knowing my secrets, alright? Will you ever shut up?"

Giulia blinked, losing some of that teasing glint in her eyes, but only for a moment. She stood up straighter and examined Alberto's pained expression and his half-stance, shouldered up on the wallpaper so he didn't faint from fear. She yanked his forearm away from the divot in the doorframe and pulled it forward, propelling them into Alberto's room without any other notice.

"Wait! Giulia! It's-It's very messy in here! I wouldn't want you having a heart attack or something..." Alberto rambled, flinging free of her grip once again to run ahead of her.

Always in the lead, scrambling to kick his discarded bath towel under the bed, and the rush of feelings that surged with it. The photos. The pictures were still on the dresser, and Giulia was standing by the bed, so that saved him at least a few agonizing minutes. While she grimaced at his crumpled sheets, pinching her nose and complaining of the fish smell, Alberto shied away from her gaze, laughing nervously and edged closer to the dresser.

"Honestly, Alberto," Giulia picked up his comforter, then wrinkled her nose in disgust and it flew from her fingers. "Haven't you heard of airing out your bedroom? The window is literally right here."

He glanced over Giulia's shoulder at the harbor beyond, thinking she should be at work. They should both be at work, or working, or doing at least something. "Don't like it."

"Don't like the window?" A piece of dirty laundry, another item under close sibling scrutiny, was dropped from her hands. Giulia turned from the wall and smirked unconvincingly at Alberto's palms outstretched along the top of the dresser, practically leaning on it for dear life.

He tried to clear his throat, but it was dry. Everything in his room was dry. The towel from the night before was cast under his bed, stiff as old citrus. The empty glass behind him, the tiny ring of water that clung to the bottom now dried up. Definitely what had happened hours before had nothing to do with what was already drying inches below his belt. God, he needed a shower to scrub off the memories. No, sear them off his skin.

Stop. Don't think of that.

"No! I, uh--" Alberto closed his eyes, opened them, closed them again, that headache never seeming to go away. "I don't...like...the boats."

That was mostly true. He just didn't like some boats in particular, the ones that hunted down sea monsters and pried the scales from their bodies as if they were gold flecks. He didn't mind giving up the salty nighttime breeze for peace of mind. What he didn't want to sacrifice, however, was the lingering (stifling) smell of Luca's scales clinging to his bedsheets and in the bathroom, with the door constantly open, a heady ocean candle that was never snuffed out.

"Pfft! You liar, you basically live on a boat you work so much. What about it could you possibly not like?" She tried a new tactic, no longer rooting through article after offensive article of boyish mess, and instead picked apart the uneasy smile in Alberto's upturned lips, evident in the sweat along his temple.

Her dark eyes roamed over Alberto, looking up at the wall then back down to his sprawled arms and aching shoulders, realization dawning. "You're...stalling! Hah! Think changing the subject will do you any good when you're around me, eh?"

Giulia marched over to Alberto, who even hunched back to conceal the contents of the dresser was taller by a few inches.

"You're hiding something, aren't you?" Giulia whispered, her voice once dripping with an easygoing slyness that only came with being siblings. But now, she steeled her eyes over Alberto's shoulder, freckled and tanned and nicked with fishing scars, searching but said nothing else.

Alberto slid his tongue along the rough roof of his mouth, tasting salt. He winced at Giulia's tender fingertips brushing over the top of his shoulders to reach for something outside of his vision, but by the feather-light intake of breath that Giulia did a poor job at hiding, he knew exactly what she had found. One photo turned to two, then three, and soon Giulia was thumbing through all of them like the old card deck they always managed to misplace on late nights.

"Luca," Giulia murmured softly, the polaroids pinched between her shaking fingers. She said his name, and the grapefruit that Massimo had held in his bare hand came to mind, suddenly. His name sounded sweet as she said it, peeling back the shocking rinds to a much more bitter discovery, the picture wrapped in a thin little fruit membrane that Giulia had torn apart and dove in hands first to pick out the seeds. She said his name, and Alberto bit his tongue, waiting, waiting. The salty tang was met with the quick release of blood as he chewed on his lip, not caring for the sting but more so for the way the air in the room stood still.

Giulia was sitting on the bed now, and Alberto was still sprawled out along the dresser, feeling time rush back in to greet him. The window was still closed. The bath towel peeked out from hard bedframe, sage fabric frozen in place, silently screaming if Alberto could guess. All of the warmth in the room flooded to Alberto's face, his flushed cheeks burning so hot he covered them with clammy palms. This wasn't happening...

The dizziness in his brain had subsided, at least for now. Pushed to the side. "I...uh...I think I can--You aren't afraid, are you?"

Giulia opened her mouth, speaking silent demands. The pictures were still in her hands. Though she was shaking and casting their glossy film over Alberto's pleading eyes. He took a step to her, and she held up a hand--the one that wasn't clutching the polaroids. Holding Luca. Così bello, Luca.

"Take me to him."

"Huh?" Alberto skittered back, eyeing the photos but afraid to take them from her hands, gently thumbing through them again like she was seeing the glossy scales and bright eyes for the first time. "I don't know...uh, I don't know what you're asking, Giulia," Alberto breathed, itching to take the stack of photos. Giulia sensed her brother's restlessness and stood up to place them into his trembling hands. They fit perfectly into his palms, and he carded through the five with a fond smile he quickly abandoned when realization hit him and Giulia was, there.

"Saying they were just a myth, Alberto?" Giulia brought all of the photos together carefully, choosing not to see Alberto's eyebrows shooting up into his head of curls but at the rows and neat edges she'd made. "But oh, wow, Luca. So...much different that what Papa says about sea monsters. He's so..."

Alberto's heart sped up. "Beautiful?" Was he even allowed to say that? What would she think?

Giulia nodded, flashing an appreciate grin but still indecisive.

"That's okay, Alberto," She wrapped her hands over Alberto's, a pillar to his crumbling resolve, and put her chin against his collarbone to still him. She sighed, a rumbling breath into his ribcage, and he felt his chest lighten. "It's okay to think he's beautiful."

Alberto didn't think he could get a word out, with his sister's hair inches from his nose, filling his head with soothing, sleepy smells. She had stuck a stem of lavender from the vase in the kitchen behind her ear.

No it's not.

"Shhh, fratello. Just don't think for a moment, si?" Giulia took the photos again and put them in her pants pocket, then wrapped her assuring arms around Alberto's neck as he let out a soundless cry. "You're okay."

Alberto buried the bridge of his sunburnt nose into Giulia's hair, the tiny periwinkle flower buds tickling his cheekbone.

"The lavanda in the vase, you bought that? It...was for him, wasn't it?" Giulia murmured to distract, petting the side of his neck to calm him down.

"...He couldn't keep it. The petals would float to the surface." His words came out sniffled and ugly-sounding, making him cringe but also hold in a laugh imagining Luca bringing a bouquet of flowers underwater just to see them all rush past his wide eyes to the surf above.

Giulia snorted and laughed against his chest, and soon Alberto was chuckling softly along with her. "Let's go see il tuo cuore, okay?"

"You're serious?" Alberto readjusted the lavender stem in her hair. "Giulia, this is like the total opposite of how I thought this would go."

She took his hand tenderly and went to the door, but not without a whiplash turn of her head, cocking one eyebrow in defiance. "What, did you expect me to reach for the nearest harpoon? Like everyone else in this town? I don't think so." She tapped her forehead, smirking. "Open mind, dummy."

Alberto squeezed her pinky finger. "Okay, you were so sweet a second ago. What happened?"

"Lots of things, big guy," Giulia clicked her tongue and pulled Alberto's hand closer. "But that vase on the dining room table, those flowers. That's how I knew. If it were a girl, you would have listened to Papa's advice for roses. But you got lavender."

Alberto sighed, fighting the impulse to tug his hand away and retreat fearfully back to his room. "If you think it's such a stupid idea, we can make tea with them. Papa got a new kettle at the market."

Giulia gave him a side glance again. "And what about Luca?"

"Fine, no tea then." Alberto stumbled on his words, choking on them almost. Would Luca...even be there? After what had happened...

He blushed and stopped, inches above Giulia's head when he stood one step higher than her, looking directly into the kitchen on his right where the vase was. Evening light spilled in the window by the sink the Marcovaldos refused to close, bathing the ornate, bottle green glass in moody flashes of color on the patched up tablecloth. A sliver of a grapefruit rind sat, hard and darkened next to the reflection of lavender stems, from Massimo's talk. Alberto swallowed the immediate flush of nausea, hating the way he could almost taste the embarrassment and worry on his tongue, inside his pores.

It was going to get dark soon.

[chocolatemin]

word count: 6.15k

contains: college!au, fantasy, fluff, angst, cursing, mutual pining, gn!reader, slightly suggestive remarks

synopsis: Does it really require pixie dust and magic to feel sparks, happiness, freedom, and comfort all at once?

ana’s note: ahhhh this is the first full-length fic i’ve ever written for jisung and i hope i did well for this one ;-; and this was inspired by the very obvious, just by looking at the title, taylor’s sparks fly and also peter pan. i hope you enjoy reading <33 

Fairies, of course, it is no secret that fairies do exist and sometimes disguise themselves as humans to go out and mix themselves on night festivals during spring, even the one celebrated in your university during mid-spring. You cannot blame them though, the mid-spring festival was always the most anticipated by the people, everyone is welcome too but the biggest difference is that everybody is wearing a costume which makes things more enjoyable. You could dress up as a god or a mythical creature or even a fairy, but of course, no one dares to dress up as a god.

The first time you encountered such fairy was at 3 AM. You shouldn’t be awake at that particular time of the day, people say that it’s either you encounter a good one or a bad one. The elders say that meeting one could either bring you good fortune or bad luck, and in the worst case scenario, make your life miserable. Why? Because it will never leave you alone. In your defense, you were finishing a project due at 9 AM that day and you were barely thriving on the amount of workload. Just like the saying, ever since that day, the fairy hasn’t left your side. So far, the fairy hasn’t made your life miserable but rather made your day more tolerable, but as of now, you want to take that back.  

“Minho, can you please stop whining like a kid? I have this due tomorrow at eight!” You sent a glare to the fairy sprawled out on your bed and he just rolled his eyes at you. 

“Let’s go out please!” He raises his voice to a pitch similar to the annoying girls in your class whenever they talk to their crushes.

“You’re so annoying!” You give your temples a light massage and sigh deeply, “God, when the elders say meeting a fairy could bring bad luck, I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“That’s rude!” Minho suddenly transported himself beside you to slap your arm jokingly.

“I swear if you don’t shut up, I won’t take you to Changbin’s.” You shove your phone to his chest before pushing him away, “Go entertain yourself and remind me when it’s 9:30.” 

“Not the texts and gallery!” You added.

You push the door open causing the bell to chime and garner the attention of the boy behind the counter as Minho trailed behind you. You flash the barista a soft smile before dragging Minho by the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Hey,” The man in front of you returns the smile, “What would you like to order?”

Scanning the menu, you picked the first thing you saw, “Caramel Frappuccino, extra shot please,” nudging the boy beside you as the barista punched in your order, “What’s yours?”

“I’ll have the same.” Minho tenses beside you, you forgot that he always gets the same drink. 

Before you could hand in the cash, the barista beat you to it, “Don’t worry, it’s on the house tonight.” 

“Chan, I insist.” You shake your head, handing him the money.

“It’s because your bags look like they could beat me anytime.” Chan chuckles as he pushes back your hand and you let out a small huff.

“He’s not lying though,” Minho snorts beside you causing Chan to give him a fist bomb. As if they really knew each other.

“Yeah, sure.” You roll your eyes playfully, “Thanks grandpa, you’re the best.”  

Chan shakes his head as you ushered Minho to a seat as you wait for your orders. 

“So, tell me, how did you meet Chan?” Minho places his hands on his pockets and leans on his seat.

“Oh, are you interested in him?” You looked up from your phone.

“Yeah, maybe we could join forces and annoy you non-stop.” Minho smiles at you and you threw a napkin at him.

“Idiot,” You chuckle at his unexpected answer, “Well, he was a senior of mine in the university but we became close because Jisung’s from the same department, he introduced Chan and also Changbin, the owner of this café.” 

“Ah yes, the crush.” Minho smirks upon the mention of Jisung’s name.

“Oh my god, stop,” sighing in annoyance, “Don’t.”

Before Minho could tease you more, you heard Chan yelling your names. This isn’t the first time you took Minho at Changbin’s so Chan didn’t have anymore the need to ask the name of your company tonight. The two of you headed over to the counter and grabbed your drinks, thanking the cute barista and slid an extra tip on the jar before leaving the café. 

Just moments after you left the café, the bells chimed once more, indicating the entrance of another customer. 

“Hey, Sung.” The older smiles, “What will you have for tonight?” 

“The usual.” Jisung hands him the money and leaves a large tip upon receiving his change.

“Y/N just left,” He could see the teasing face of the older despite having his back turned from him as Chan made his order.

“And?” Jisung replies with a lazy voice contrary to his actions. His heart skipped a beat hearing your name.

“They’re with another guy.” Chan raises his brows and Jisung just coughed, “Someone’s jealous.” Jisung ignored Chan’s remark, earning a laugh from the older. “Aw, come on, they only like you,” Chan spoke as he handed him his order.

“As if they would.” Jisung frowns. 

“Trust me. They only have their eyes on you.” Chan gives him a reassuring smile.

“Well, that’s creepy but that’s better than having their eyes on another guy.” Jisung jokes to lighten up the mood, taking a sip from his drink, “See you later.”

Chan nods and he watches the younger head to the exit, a huge grin etched on his face. 

 “They’re idiots.”

“Do you guys wanna hang out this weekend?” Felix glances up from his food and turns to look at you and Jisung.

“Sure, I’m free on Saturday,” You take another bite of your lunch, “Movie?”

“I can’t,” both eyes turn to Jisung, “I have to meet my old friend in middle school, she’s transferring to our university next semester.” 

“Oh, we’re supposed to look for our costumes,” Felix nods, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, “I guess it’ll be only me and Y/N.”

“I’ll try to catch up with you,” Jisung grabbed his coffee and abruptly stood up from his seat beside you, “I should get going now, my class is in twenty.” 

“See you later.” You wave at Jisung and he flashes you the smile that never fails to send the sparks bursting inside your chest before leaving you two in an awkward atmosphere.

“I can’t believe he chose his friend over us!” Felix dramatically places his hand over his chest, pretending to wipe his invisible tears.

“Spring break is within the next two weeks, Lix. It must be important.” You gave the boy across you a pat on his hair.

“But they could’ve scheduled it the other day! He knows that it is our costume-finding day!” Felix pouts, poking his food aggressively. You know that every second Saturday of February is special for you three since you became best of friends in high school and this is the first time Jisung declined.

“Don’t be sad, it’ll still be fun.” You smile at him assuringly. 

After your last class, you received a text from Jisung saying your and Felix shouldn’t wait for him since he has to meet his friend. On your walk to the dorms, Felix couldn’t stop complaining on how Jisung chooses his other friend over you two. You feel sad but you understand that Jisung’s time and space does not revolve only within your friendship, what makes you upset is that it’s a girl, thoughts like “What if it is one of his past crushes?” lingered in your mind. Since finals are coming up, you decided to distract yourself from the heavy feeling in your chest by diverting your attention to studying and you are glad that you successfully got rid of the thoughts for a while. However, it’s been hours and you still kept on turning sides and shifting positions on your bed trying to fall asleep yet the feeling inside your chest doesn’t seem to go away.

“Minho, are you there?” Your voice cracked, making you cringe but there is no response. You tried calling a few times and Minho in his pyjamas with a grumpy look appeared beside your bed.

“What do you want?” He groans.

“Can’t sleep, do you have any magic that can make me fall asleep?” You drag the blanket up to your chin.

“Are you still upset?” Minho’s voice softens but you do not answer his question, making him sigh as he sits at the edge of your bed, “I have something cooler to show you, come on,” Minho extends his hand over you.

“Huh?” You ask, staring at his hand.

“Get up, I’ll show you something.” Minho drags you out of bed despite your protests. Snapping his fingers, you suddenly got transported to what seemed like Minho’s room. You know it is his because it smells just like him—cat, he does own three cats so it isn’t new to you. His room felt cozy yet mystical, the things in his room are made of wood, leaves, vines and flowers and the room erupted with fresh leaves and scent of lilacs, and let us not forget, cats.

“Why am I in your room?” You turn to Minho who is taking a small chest from his nightstand. 

“Close your eyes,” you obey as he said and you feel something powder-like stick on your skin, “Don’t open your eyes yet,” you feel Minho’s fingers brush against your forehead, then your brows, your eyelashes, your nose, cheeks, lips and lastly, your chin; his fingers felt like cotton against your skin– gentle and light.

The thoughts were cut off by his voice, “You may open your eyes now.”

“Wow, what is this?” You inspect the shining dust on your skin and clothes.

“That’s pixie dust.” Minho confidently answered. 

“Wait, it’s real?” Your eyes went wide from the excitement. 

“Duh. Did you really think those were all made-up?” He scoffs at the bewildered look in your face. 

“Where are we heading to?” You jump excitedly, making him laugh at your child-like behavior. 

“It’s a secret.” With that, Minho snapped his fingers once more and you were transported outside his house, specifically on his roof, “Are you ready to soar the night?”

“Hell yeah!” You throw your fist in the air, laughing. 

“Take a deep breath, think and believe that you can fly.” You do as he says, mumbling ‘I can fly’ to yourself repeatedly. “Now, take a step forward.” 

“You could’ve just told me to jump off your roof.” You shake your head and jump off his roof, you feel your stomach drop as you fall but you are quick to remember that you have to think and believe that you can fly, feeling yourself stop mid-air and float. 

“Cheesecakes, I did it!” You grin as you fly back up, stopping in front of Minho.

“Wow, didn’t think you were the hardcore type.” Minho chuckles as he spreads his pretty wings that sparkled against the moonlight and fly above you, “Come on! We’ve got an exciting adventure to do!”

You flew here and there, Minho holding your hand in the first few minutes until you got used to flying. His wings fluttered against the gentle night breeze and you suddenly had the urge of wanting to touch his wings, curious on how it would feel against your fingertips. You spent the time flying around the Land of Fae, Minho being your tour guide for the night. He felt happy seeing your eyes light up as he showed you the cool places in his hometown, compared to your dead-looking eyes while you tried to distract yourself from the pain by studying and he promised to bring you again next time for another adventure. By the time you transported back to your place, it was already three am, so you immediately dive on your bed, face first and thank Minho before dozing off, the pain definitely forgotten.

“Y/N! You look like you didn’t get much sleep, what happened?” Felix grabs the sides of shoulders, leaning in to take a closer look at the dark circles under your eyes. 

“It’s just, I didn’t see the time ‘cause I was reviewing my notes on Hegel’s.” You lie, you cannot tell him you just flew all night. 

“Morning,” You feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, making your heart skip a beat. You knew whose arm belonged to, even if you didn’t hear his voice.

“Good morning, Sungie.” You turn to look at him but you are surprised that he was closer than you expected, you smile at him before turning your head away from his face, the tip of your ears getting red. 

“What are you two discussing without me?” Jisung feigned a frown.

“You should tell Y/N not to stay up too late. Look at those eyes! It’s terrible!” Felix points at your face. 

“Hey, it’s not that bad, you still look pretty though.”Jisung brushes a stray hair on your forehead making you flustered while Felix looks at you with an amused reaction. 

“Oh, Y/N, don’t let that get in your head.” Felix laughs. 

“You’re insufferable.” You push Felix before turning to Jisung, blowing a kiss to his direction, “Thanks, babe.” 

Jisung feels like he could ascend anytime from the name you just called him, even if you two exchange flirty remarks on a daily basis, he’s getting used to it to the point that he doesn’t even know if it is still all jokes or means something else.

“I’m getting tired of you two! Ugh!” Felix walks away causing you two to erupt in fits of giggles before catching up to him.

The day was almost great, until Jisung had to leave first again to meet his friend, leaving you and Felix alone for the second time. 

“Aww, Lix, come on, I’m here,” you playfully poke his side, “I bet I’m funnier than Jisung.”

“Oh my god, Y/N! You are never funny!” Felix pushes you away from him and starts walking faster, leaving you behind.

“Don’t you want to hear any of my jokes?” You elbow him, “What does the cell say whenever it takes a picture?”

“What?” The tone of Felix’s voice is flat, obviously unamused at your attempt.

“Cellfie!” You are literally howling at your pun, clutching your hand over your stomach and failing to notice the annoyed look on your best friend’s pretty face.

“That’s so bad, Y/N!” Felix runs away while you are dying of laughter from your terrible joke.

Weekdays had passed and the three of you became busier than ever with all the finals coming up, you could barely hang out with Jisung during lunch and vacant periods, but since you and Felix are taking the same course, you didn’t feel lonely with his presence, the only day you are looking forward to is Saturday, which is today.

You agreed to meet up with Felix at the mall without mentioning that you brought another company with you today, so you weren’t all surprised to see Felix with a panicked face as soon as he sees you. 

“Hey, Felix, I hope you don’t mind bringing my friend with us today,” You smile looking over to the man beside you, “Minho, this is Felix, my best friend.”

Minho extends his hand in front of Felix for a handshake which he accepts despite his flustered state, “Felix, this is Minho, my fair– friend, yeah, friend.” You awkwardly chuckle, nodding to him. 

Thankfully, Felix didn’t raise any suspicions on the two of you but he asked how you became friends, because as far as Felix knows, you really didn’t have any friends aside from him and Jisung, you barely even talk to your classmates. You decided to eat first before proceeding to your real agenda and surprisingly, it was Minho’s treat– which never happens when it’s only the two of you. What a two-faced fairy.

“Y/N, the truth is, I don’t have any ideas for our costume,” Felix scratches his nape, “All I know is we have to match.” 

You are about to answer but Minho beat you to it, “Why don’t you all dress up as fairies?” He says with a proud look at his face, “You can even customize and add details if you’d like.”

“Impeccable.” You mocked, you can see Minho’s hidden intention.

“That’s perfect! We’ll dress up as fairies then!” Felix chirps, your eyes wide from the declaration.

“Huh?”

“Fairies are cool, Y/N.” Felix places a hand on your shoulder. What a great ego-boost to Minho.

You glance at Minho quickly and you see the tiny smirk planted across his lips, “They are not, besides, how do you know? You haven’t met one.”

“Neither do you,” Felix retorts before dragging you to the costume store, “Now, shut up, we’re gonna be the best fairy friends ever!”

To be honest, you did not expect searching for your outfits will still be fun without Jisung. Speaking of Jisung, he sure doesn’t know what costume you three are going to wear so you decided to send him a text.

You: hey, ji. we’re dressing up as fairies, should we choose for you?

Sliding the phone back to your pocket, you went over to the accessories and decorations to pick something to add on  your costume that will definitely make you look more like a fairy. Your eyes dart toward a green headdress decorated with crystals and flowers.

“Wow, this is really pretty.” You are interrupted by the vibration from your pocket and you quickly fish out your phone to see a reply from Jisung that made your lips curve into a smile.

Quokka: can you pick my costume for me? i don’t trust felix geez

You: should you really trust me? 

Quokka: baby, your choices are better

You: well then, i shall not hear any complains when you see it

Quokka: thanks, love. don’t have too much fun without me ;(

You feel your heart burst just from the way he addressed you but it was quickly replaced by a heavy feeling upon remembering that he’s with his friend right now. Sighing heavily, you grab the headdress before walking, tapping the shoulder of your best friend from behind.

“I’m picking Jisung’s clothes.” Felix turns to you with his brows furrowed.

“I already picked his!” He shows you a forest green tunic paired with grey braies, you admit Felix absolutely chose a great outfit this time.

“You picked a decent one for the first time!” You happily hum, “All that’s left is his accessories.” 

The day wouldn’t be complete without games, so the three of you went all out on arcade. At first, Minho didn’t know how the buttons and joysticks worked and you had to teach him first before you three went into competitive mode. Felix was almost skeptical about Minho and it isn’t a surprise for him to come up with a believable lie, you were glad that Felix and Minho got along. You even saw them teaming up just to piss you off coming. By the time you parted ways with Felix, the sun was already setting and the skies were tinted with orange and pink hues.

Feeling lonely albeit the presence of your mystical fairy beside you as you typed your essays, you decided to text your friends.

You: do u guys wanna come over to study?

Sunshine:  u r heaven sent y/n

Quokka: i’m really busy tonight

You: does that mean u cant join us?

Quokka: yeah…

Sunshine: don’t worry sweet cupcake y/n, i’ll bring over snacks

You: yuck, i’m not sweet and i’m not a cupcake

Sunshine: but u like it when sungie calls you pet names

You: just get ur ass here dumbass

Quokka: ofc, thats MY y/n ;)

Sunshine: i want to puke

You shake your head while smiling to yourself, despite Jisung being the busiest among the three of you, he never fails to lighten up the mood, and your overreacting friend, Felix, that is always there for you, you are really grateful for these two dorks.

You hear a loud knock and a yelling causing your eyes to dart over to the door. You immediately stood up from your seat, nearly dropping your laptop, and grabbed Minho’s arm, who is lying on the couch lazily beside you, “You have to hide!”

“Why? Can’t you just tell him that I came over?” Minho shakes your hand off his arm.

Deciding that you will not make up anymore lies to your best friend, you snake your arm and carry him with his back facing you, “Hide or you get out!”

“Y/N?” You turn your head to the door with shock and horror painted on your face, standing on your doorstep is Felix with a box of pizza and ice cream carrying on his hands, “Were you and Minho sleeping together?!” 

You let go of Minho causing him to fall, butt first on the floor and earn a groan from the fairy.

“No, it’s not what you think!” You rush over to Felix but he takes a step back.

“What is this then?” Felix raised his brows.

“Y/N, just tell him the truth.” Minho says as he stands up from the floor, massaging the part where it hurts.

“What truth?” Felix narrows his eyes as he glances over you then Minho.

“You see, uh, how do I say this,” sighing, “Minho is my–”

“Your what?” 

“Let me finish, brat,” you glare at him, “Minho is a fairy.” 

“The fuck are you saying, Y/N?” Felix walks past you, placing the pizza on the table and putting the ice cream in the freezer.

“I’m not lying!” You argue as you close the door.

“He does not have wings!” Felix raises his hand in frustration.

“Of course, we’re not in the Land of Fae!”

“Quiet down! You don’t want them to know you have a fairy in your room, do you?” Minho shushed the both of you.

“Sorry,” you glare at your best friend, “Believe me.”

“You guys are making this up, right?” Felix’s eyes darted at the two of you, “Tell me you’re joking.”

“We’re not,” Minho answers for you, “Do you want to see me fly?”

“Sure, why not.” Felix jokes but as soon as he sees Minho floating with his legs crossed, his mouth fell agape, “You aren’t fucking kidding?!”

You slap his shoulder as a reminder to tone down his voice.

“I think I’m going to faint-” Felix places a hand over his forehead before dramatically falling down on your couch��on the top of your laptop. Wait, what?

Out of instinct, you pushed Felix before his body could crush your laptop, so he fell on the floor face first instead, “What the hell, Felix! You almost broke my laptop!” You glare at him.

“Do you really have to push me though?” Felix sits up as he rubs his forehead.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, “Are we gonna study or…?”

“Yeah, right, sweet cupcake Y/N.” 

Monday. You loathed Mondays, take note on the emphasis. It was just the second period but you are already tired. You are about to open your locker when you hear footsteps coming towards you.

“Good morning, Felix. What do you want?” You lazily put your textbooks inside your locker before closing it shut, “By the way, did you see Jisung?”

“Wow, Y/N, I’m here yet you’re looking for another guy.” Felix scoffs.

“Stupid,” you shake your head lightly, “I just haven’t seen him this morning.”

“He didn’t tell you?” The question made turn your head to face him rather abrupt, your brow raised and Felix cannot help to notice how badly you are inlove with Jisung, “Nothing, I don’t know either, he didn’t even respond to my text.” 

“Ugh, Felix, you’re so annoying!” Felix just laughs at your irritated reaction.

The walk towards the university cafe is too quiet and you didn’t mind, you wish Jisung could join you for lunch but it seems like he’s really busy and has no time for you, reasonable enough since he probably has lots of work to finish before the due date and it’s already the finals next week, his assessments are different than yours and Felix’s, having your majors in Philosophy. Majoring in Music Production sure is tough and that is one of the reasons why you admired Jisung, aside from his personality. He is hardworking and dedicated, you could see him just goofing around but his grades are always above the average. He tends to joke a lot but when he starts talking about his passion, you could see his determination in his eyes.

Your thoughts are cut off by Felix, sitting across you, “I think you should ask Minho to come with us more often.”

“Who’s Minho?” Jisung is standing beside your table, panting heavily as if he ran all the way here just to see you two.

“Y/N’s friend. He went with us on our shopping.” Felix hums.

You hand Jisung his costume inside the paper bag, your fingers brushing against his slender ones, causing you to stutter on your reply, “Y-yeah.”

“Too bad you didn’t meet him, he’s hilarious! Little did I know, our Y/N has a gorgeous friend.” Felix winks at you but Jisung stood unfazed. To you, Jisung is more gorgeous than Minho and you don’t really care about Felix’s stupid teasing. 

“Whatever, I won’t be coming with you guys later, I’ll have to see Wendy.” With that, Jisung left you dumbfounded. 

“He just came to get his costume?” Felix coughs in disbelief and you just nod. 

Jisung can’t help the jealousy that’s why he left just like that, his insecurities are slowly eating him up again, leaving no parts behind. It would be impossible for you not to have another guy friend, you are attractive as hell and fun to be with, and Jisung thinks you’re out of his league. He just blurted those words as an excuse for him to leave early but he realized that if he leaves you and Felix alone again, you might actually invite Minho with you which isn’t good for the jealousy that is eating him inside.

“Oh, Jisung, I thought you’re with Wendy.”  You stop on your tracks upon seeing Jisung leaning against the railings outside your classroom, probably waiting for the dismissal of your last period. His back facing the sky and the golden streaks of light casting from behind made him look strikingly unreal, with his hair parted and slicked back on the right, is absolutely taking your breath away. He looks up to meet your eyes and you feel the rapid thumping inside your chest intensify. Jisung is going to be the death of you. 

“I told her I have important matters to do.” Jisung walks up to you, his bangs swaying along with his movements. You thought the slowing of time when your crush walks up to you only happens only in dramas, but you were wrong. You realize that they just dramatized it because in real life, time just passes rather quickly without you noticing it since your attention is completely taken by your loved one.

“S-sure.” You mentally slap yourself for making yourself look like a fool in front of Jisung. 

“Wanna have dinner together?” He slings an arm around your shoulder while his other hand clutched around the strap of his bag. You almost forgot that Felix is still with you.

“Of course! We barely had time together the past week.” Felix walks beside Jisung.

“I won’t pass,” you flash him a shy smile, “I missed your loud voice.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or what.” Jisung snickers while Felix made gagging sounds. 

You are surprised to see a familiar brown hair at the entrance of the university.

“Hey, Y/N. Isn’t that Minho?” Jisung feels his enthusiasm drop upon hearing the fairy’s name.

“Y/N!” Minho jogs over, stopping just in front of you, “Felix!”

“You must be Jisung,” Minho extends his hand for a handshake which Jisung unwillingly took, “Y/N never shuts up about you.”

You sucked in your bottom lip in annoyance, throwing Minho a death stare, “Why are you here?”

“I was heading home but I figured I could say hi.” Minho feigns a smile, he knows you knew his real intentions.

“You know their schedule?” Jisung finally breaks his silence.

“Not really, it just so happened that my timing is right.” Minho sends you a knowing look. 

“Ah, is that so?” Jisung nods, “By the way, we still have to go somewhere else. See you later, man.” Jisung drags you and Felix away from the scene and you are confused by his sudden behavior.

“Wow, Jisung, didn’t know you’re that territorial.” Felix mused, surely liking the situation. 

“I just didn’t like him,” Jisung turns to you and shrugs, “There’s just something I feel from his presence, y’know?” 

“Ah, yes, jealousy,” Felix speaks in a mocking tone, “That’s something hard to ignore, y’know?”

“Someone wants to sleep outside tonight.” Jisung smirks, making Felix take back his words.

You are disappointed with the short amount of time you spent with Jisung, the day after you ate together, Jisung became busier, if that’s still possible, he rarely responds to your messages and if he did, it is short. His ‘meeting’ with Wendy became more frequent and you tried your best not to think of it and let jealousy consume the best of you. Despite the exams coming up, you found yourself flying around on your nightly trips with none other than Minho–but that is after you finish studying; it became some sort of reward to you. You did forget Jisung and Wendy during your adventures but the longing slowly became terribly agonizing. Even with the use of pixie dust and magic, your heart still feels empty at the end of the day.

It is the last day of finals and spring break is just over the corner yet you feel numb and drained already. 

“I’m going to die,” a sigh escapes past your lips, “I want to sleep for a whole day.”

“Aww, Y/N, you can rest all you want but we have to take the remaining subjects.” Felix pats your hair gently.

“Thanks, Lixie, I know you’d do well!” You smile at him before taking your phone out of your pocket.

You: hey, love, good luck on your final assessments. <3 

Quokka: thanks, y/n. good luck to you too, i know you studied well /(￣3￣ )/

Jisung’s short encouragement was enough for you to go through all your remaining tests and you were satisfied with your answers too. Just like you said on the last day of finals, you really did spend the succeeding day sleeping. You woke up the next day to see your notifications blown up from Felix and Jisung’s texts. It took you almost thirty minutes to read the entirety of the messages and reply to it. 

You became all giddy and impatient with the fact that you’d be attending the festival next next week. You were excited, nonetheless you still spent the first week of spring break either by yourself or with Minho’s company. You tidied up your dorm since you basically live there even during the short breaks from school. You didn’t have a house to come home every spring break because your parents are working abroad and all busy with their work, plus they don’t have spring breaks at work, so it’s you travelling to another country every December just to be with them. 

The day you’ve been waiting for has finally arrived and your heart has been pounding the moment you wake up. 

“Where are you going?” You ask Minho who is heading for the door.

“Felix asked me for some help.” You nod at him and go back to making final adjustments on your costume. Over the few weeks, Minho became disgustingly close to Felix to the point where Minho knew everything about him too but that’s because Felix promised not to tell anyone your friend’s not-so-little secret and Minho trusted your ball-of-a-sunshine friend. What you didn’t expect is for Minho to become friends with Jisung, looking back on the way Jisung acted upon meeting Minho for the first time, it seemed impossible for him to trust your friend. You spent the remaining time watching cute cat videos and reading theories in Philosophy that made you curse a lot and almost regret taking Philosophy as your major during your freshman year. 

Taking one last spin in front of the mirror, you excitedly head to the university gate to meet Jisung and the others but little did you know, your friends had other plans. They decided that they’ve had enough of your pining on each other albeit all the teasing and flat-out hints. 

“Jisung, where are they?” You try to brush off the rowdy butterflies in the pit of your stomach. The pair of tunic and braies gave Jisung an extreme makeover, he looks just like a real fairy, which also coincidentally matches with your olive green fairy costume–to put it short, you look like a couple.

“Didn’t Felix come over to your dorm?” Jisung shrugs, fiddling with the hem of his forest tunic, you can sense his nervousness.

“Minho told me Felix asked him to lend a hand,”  Your eyes widen in realization, “They left us!” 

“I shouldn’t have trusted those two!” Jisung mutters under his breath. 

“What are we going to do now?” You bite your lip, analyzing your surroundings; a fair amount of people have gathered outside the university and the others have already entered the gates.

“Just forget them,” Jisung grabs your hand, “Let’s just enjoy the festival even with just the two of us!” 

Jisung and you went from stall to stall, spending a huge amount of money and eating an unhealthy amount of sweets. The two of you are now sitting beside each other on one of the benches, feet sore yet contented. You can see the diversity in everyone’s costume and everybody is having a great time, smiles plastered across their faces as they celebrate with their friends and loved ones; making your heart feel warm at the rare sight.

“Y/N,” Jisung snaps you out of your trance, “The fireworks are starting soon.”

“Really?” You unlocked your phone, showing the cute wallpaper you had set, which is you three on your first mid-spring festival, “So much time had passed already?”

“Yeah, are you tired?” Jisung places his hand over yours and it felt natural to Jisung.

“I mean look,” you raised your phone to his vision, “Three years had passed and we’re all still friends.” 

“Isn’t it a great thing?” Jisung squeezes your hand lightly. 

“Yeah…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, you cannot just straight-up tell him ‘And we’re still not together, so it’s not great’, your insecurities just don’t agree with you. 

“Did you have fun today? You’re too silent.” Jisung’s eyes searched for yours.

“Of course!” You exclaim, averting your gaze within seconds.

“Good to know,” Jisung smiles as he thumb rubs circles on your knuckles, “I wish this day won’t end though.”

“What do you mean?” It is your turn to face him.

“We have to go home sooner right?” You nod at his words, “Can I ask for something before we leave?”

Ignoring the loud palpitating inside your chest, “Go ahead.”

“May I kiss you?” Jisung is too jittery to mind his choice of words, anxiousness consuming him as he anticipates for your answer.

“Of course,” Feeling slightly confident, you even smiled at him. His eyes marveled from your eyes to your lips and you felt the tiny hairs on your nape stood up when Jisung placed his free hand to cup your jaw while the other held your hand. Just as his lips touched yours, you heard the sound of fireworks spreading across the night sky and everything felt perfect and magical. Seconds passed and you feel Jisung’s lips parting away from yours and you wished it didn’t have to end.

“Hey, Y/N, I know I don’t have supernatural powers nor wings to take you on nightly escapades,” Jisung gazes oh-so-lovingly at your teary ones.

“How did you know?” Your ears perk up, waiting for his response.

“Minho told me,” Jisung smiles, taking a deep breath, “but I can love you with all my heart.”

“I love you too, Jisung.”

You don’t need any pixie dust and magic to feel sparks, happiness, freedom, and comfort all at once; all you need is Jisung and his love.

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Angstmas Day Four 

Nessian AU // Hardest goodbye 

Nesta looks up at the phone that she propped up on her desk chair against three textbooks. She was sitting on the floor with her clothes sprawled around her. She scowls at the screen, “Stop laughing, its not funny,” she snaps, her scowl turning into a frown as she looks at the half packed suitcase. 

“It’s kind of funny,” Cassian replies, he had his phone propped up on the counter as she stood over his stove where he was finishing up making dinner for himself. “Why do you always wait until the night before you leave to pack?” 

Nesta groans, “Because I am a procrastinator and I don’t want to think about having to put all of this back. Why don’t you come visit me, huh?” she mutters, throwing a tee shirt into the suitcase and then pulling it out again. “What are we doing again?” 

Cassian stops stirring his food to look at her. “You’re coming for three days, we aren’t going to do anything,” he retorts. 

She runs a hand through her hair. “But what if we decide to go on a hike? Or swim? Or you get invited to a gala?” she questions. “I need to be prepared. You know I don’t like feeling not prepared.” 

He laughs. “Bring normal clothes and if any of that happens I will take you to a store and buy you what you need, but I doubt I will suddenly have the urge to swim or hike in winter or be invited to a gala,” he replies, pausing as he rubs his chin, “But uh-, I was planning a nice dinner for Saturday if you want to bring nice warm outfit.” 

“You can’t tell me that! I have six hours until my flight and I still need to sleep! Now I have to plan an outfit? It's fine, It’s fine, everything is fine, I’ll just bring a few different options,” Nesta replies with a wave of her hand as she gets to work. Cassian sets up his phone on the table as he eats his dinner making small talk as she finishes up packing. 

Nesta zips it shut and looks back at the phone. “Two hours, I’ll be at the airport! Three hours I will be on the plane! Seven hours, I’ll be with you!” she exclaims. 

Cassian smiles, “Remember to send me your flight information before you crash,” he says. 

“You know me so well,” she smiles. “I love you.” 

“Love you too,” he responds. “Can’t wait to see you.” 

The screen goes black after she blows him a kiss, she types in the information quickly and hits send before falling asleep on the floor. She had forty-five minutes to sleep before she had to get up and start heading towards the airport. 

She sits in the seat, watching the line of people walk by, she takes a picture of herself looking out the plane window and sends it to Cassian with the caption: Can’t wait to see my boo, bet he’s looking PLANE sexy rn. 

I literally hate you, get off the plane, go home. I am not picking you up. Cassian texts back almost immediately. 

What qualifications do I need to be your frequent flyer member? She pipes back, chuckling into the sleeve of the sweatshirt she was wearing which she may or may not have stolen last time she went to visit him.

She watches the three dots disappear and then his text pop up. You’re cringy. 

I bet I need a sophisticated navigation system to navigate myself to your heart. She texts back. She sends another one just as fast, I have turbulence in my heart everytime I look at you (uwu face). 

No (red heart) He replies quickly. Where are you finding these? Do you just have a file in your brain of cheesy plane pick up lines? 

If you wanna be a pilot, babe, I’ll teach you how to press all the right buttons. She replies. 

She watches as the flight attendants begin closing all the overhead luggage and telling everyone to shut off their phones. She looks down to see a new message from Cassian. Are you checked luggage? Because I’d wait an eternity for you. 

She bites back a smile. She really loved that boy. My flight is taking off. See you soon! She pauses, her fingers hovering over the buttons. Something inside of her told her she should write more, to tell him how she really felt about him. She quickly types a message, clicking send, as she puts her phone into airplane mood. 

Cassian POV

Cassian sits in the galley watching his friend and fellow lieutenant Rhysand tell a story animatedly to Azriel and Amren. “Earth to Cas,” Rhysand says, shoving his friend until Cassian looks up at him. “Did you hear anything I said? I just told a wicked story about how Tamlin got what was coming to him.” 

Azriel chuckles from where he was sitting across from Cassian, he smiled smugly at him as he explains, “His girl is coming to town tonight, he’s probably tracking her right now. How far away?” Azriel raises an eyebrow expectantly. 

“Two hours,” Cassian mumbles under his breath but loud enough that Rhysand and Azriel start whooping and Amren rolls her eyes at the scene. “I haven’t seen her in six months and it was only for a night, before that it was a year. Forgive me for being excited.” 

Rhysand snickers, “Whipped,” he says through coughs. 

“Who’s whipped?” Mor asks as she falls into the seat beside Cassian. Rhysand chuckles as he says, “Cassian. He’s a in loveee with Nesta Archeron.” Cassian reaches over and smacks Rhysand in the back of the head. 

“I think it’s sweet, at least he had a girlfriend unlike the rest of you,” she snaps back, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she leans back. “Oh my god,” she explains. “Have you guys seen what's trending? Apparently there was a massive crash a couple miles away from DTW.” 

Cassian’s world froze in place. Everyone around him was a blur. Azriel was saying something to him. Mor was showing Amren pictures. Rhysand was already running up to the front to have them change one of the TVs to the local new station. 

“ALL 112 ABROAD FLIGHT 3529 DIE IN ENGINE FAILURE”

Cassian hands shake, as Mor grips his shoulder turning him towards her. “Where was she coming from?” she asks. He doesn’t remember saying anything, only his mouth moving, and the fear in her eyes as she looks back up at the TV. 

“There had to be tons of planes going from BOS to DTW, do you have her plane information?” Azriel asks, standing in between Cassian and the TV. The TV that showed a plane that was so destroyed you wouldn’t have even known what it was. The fire blurred in his vision, if she hadn’t died in the crash then she definitely-, Azriel shakes him. “Listen to me, we don’t know that’s the plane she was on. Do you have her confirmation?” 

Cassian swallows, tuning away from the blinding lights of the fire and the haunting memory of what she had possibly one through to pull up his phone. A text from her blinked back at him. She texted him, she was ok. He quickly typed in hsi password the text standing out to him. You’re my favorite hello and my hardest goodbye. I love you millions, Cassian.  

It had been sent three hours ago. She had sent it before she even left. How did he not see it? Why had she sent it? It’s like she had known this would have happened. He scrolls up to their messages from the night before and the screen shot of her ticket. He looks around until his eyes fall on the flight. The numbers 3529 blink back at him. 

He hands his phone to Azriel who scans the photo as well, his hopefully expression falling as he slides the phone towards Rhysand and Mor before pulling Cassian into a tight hug. How had she known that he would have to go through the hardest goodbye of his life? How had she known the impact of her words based on the weight on his shoulders. 

Was she scared? Did she know she was going to die? Was it quick? The thoughts ran through his head. Even his friends who swarmed around him couldn’t pull him from the tides that ripped through his mind. Nesta Archeron was gone. He would no longer see her bright smile, laugh at one of her cheesy pickup lines, or run a hand through her soft curls. 

He would never see the determination that shone bright in her eyes, or the curiosity or the passion when she was discussing a book she had read recently. How she mumbled in her sleep or how she had to be touching him when they slept. 

How her eyes lit up when he asked if she wanted to get coffee before they started their day or watching her favorite movie. How her lips were curved when she was hiding something that usually ended up with her dragging him through an animal shelter to play with cats or a weekend road trip that ended with a airbnb treehouse stay. 

He would never see her sing into her hairbrush again after she showered and was wearing one of his sweatshirts. He would never see rub the sleep from her eyes as he brought her breakfast in bed. 

She was his hardest goodbye.

[badboys-imagines]

My neighbor

PART V

A/N : Hope you’ll like this chapter ♥ 🌝

Pairing : Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary : You move into the house of your dreams. It all seems like a fairytale, until you meet your neighbor, Mr. Cavill…

PART I |  PART II  |  PART III  |  PART IV  | PART V

The building was filled with loud voices and sounds of people frantically typing when you rushed to the Human Resources office. The door was open.

A well-built man turned to you, a folder in his hands,

"Come in, Miss Y/L/N" he mumbled, “I was finishing your evaluation."

Hair still wet and messy, you panted,

"Thank you, sir."

Raising his head from the documents, Mathias smiled,

"Call me Mat', will you ?" he chuckled softly and pointed the seat in front of his desk, "Sit."

Body still shaking, you sat into the chair and he kept gazing at you for a moment,

"Your profile is very interesting." he stated, "Need more time to get ready in the morning ?" he asked, glancing at your bun.

Oh, shit.

For a moment, you wondered which was messier, your life or your hair.

"I apologize, si...-Mat’. I had a serious issue with my new neighbor..."

"None of that with me, Y/L/N." he chuckled, "I was just joking. One thing you need to know, you can be late, work from home, the boss don’t care as long as you do your job."

Nodding quickly, you silently cursed Cavill. Damn him. Thank god, Mat’ seemed to be in a soft mood.

"Well, now you're here, we need a good article for tonight, something entertaining. Do you think you can do that ? Like a fight, a violent altercation. Anything spicy."

"Of course, I'll figure something out." you nodded with a smile.

Sighing in relief, you sat at your new desk, closing your eyes as you recollected yourself. You’d been lucky. So. Freaking. Lucky.

"Hey there !" a friendly masculine voice caused you to open your eyes, "I'm your neighbor. I mean, kind of, our desks are side by side."

Oh God, no more neighbor for today, please.

Andres was a tall, blond-haired man. It was the first time you met him. He handed you a coffee, his wide smile and happy face contagious,

"Thanks ! Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N/."

"I know, I... read your badge."

"Oh," you chuckled, "and you are... Andres." you said as you read the name on his own badge.

You both nodded and smiled awkwardly, until a tall woman walked into the room, causing everyone to look back at their screens and papers. Andres leaned in and whispered,

“This is Erin. Big boss.”

Erin scanned the room and as soon as her eyes found you, she walked in your direction.

“Hello, Y/N. Welcome to Nova Times. I’m Erin.”

There was something very sweet in her smile. It made you feel immediately at ease and you shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you. I can’t wait to start working on my first article.”

“Did Mathias give you a lead ?”

“Yes, he did. I’m sure I can finish today.”

“Great. I hope you’ll feel comfortable here.” she said, pointing your desk, “If you need anything, I’ll be in my office, alright ?”

So, yeah. It was even better than what you expected. Surprisingly, it felt way less oppressing than your previous job.

Your boss was friendly, the environment seemed nice. Plus, Andres was really hot.

When you finally left the building, it was already late and you’d been talking with him non-stop for an hour. He walked you home and you both took your time, enough for you to tell him about Mr Chaos.

“You just call him like that ?” Andres asked.

"Yeah, well that’s because he’s always acting indecently when all I’m trying to do is keep calm. It seems like his two moods are just... glitter and death, you know."

Andres laughed,

"What's his name again ?"

You hadn't told him and were about to do so, but you noticed your house in the distance,

"Oh, this is me." you smiled, stopping in front of him.

Andres plunged his eyes into yours, and you thought it was the moment when two characters kiss in books. There was a chemistry between you both, you couldn’t deny it. So when he leaned in, you glanced at his lips, willing to do it, to kiss him.

Yes, Y/N.

Do it.

But as soon as you looked at him, an image came to your mind, like a spell, something moving under your skin. Heart beating fast, you moved back. 

Henry’s eyes were haunting you. 

Fuck.

"I-I'm sorry." Andres stuttered, realizing his mistake, “It was so inappropriate, I thought...”

"No ! No, it wasn’t. It’s not you. You thought right." you assured him, "I guess I'm still shook by all the changes in my life. I just need some time. But I really enjoyed walking with you. You know what, how about we walk to work together, tomorrow morning ?"

Not an ounce of resentment in his eyes, Andres smiled shyly, burying his hands in his pockets,

"Tomorrow morning, then. Good night, Y/N. I'm glad we spent this moment together. If you're in trouble, just call me." he said, referring to your neighbor.

What was happening to you ? He was probably the cutest guy you’d met in years and yet... you just couldn’t take Henry out of your head.

Dragging your feet toward the door, you noticed the window was slightly open. Even though you didn't make a sound, your cat ran to you, meows and purrs breaking the silence as you entered your house.

"Oh, poor kitty, I'm sorry for this morning hon'..." you took her into your arms and made your way to the kitchen, pouring some cat food into a plate. "Here you go..."

"This cat is a liar,” you heard Henry grumble behind you, “I fed her, twice. She's going to die from a heart attack, like the average over-eating American she is." Henry glanced down at the furry ball, “I'm serious pal', you're going to die.”

Straightening up, you were now facing Henry as he brushed his fingers through his dark hair. This time though, he gave you an apologetic gaze,

"Sorry. Didn't mean that." he risked, "I just... I did feed your cat this morning. After all."

Without a word, you shrugged him off and turned your back to him to open the fridge. Here and there, you found his food and barely managed to know what was yours or his.

"What are you doing ?" he asked, his tone softer.

"Avoiding."

"Avoiding what ?"

"You. Everything."

You heard him sigh and he moved closer to you, heading toward the fridge where you were still trying to figure out what to cook. His voice echoed in your ear, so close it vibrated against your skin,

"This is mine,” he said, his arm plunging into the depths of the fridge, “this is yours... Oh, no. These are mine too." he said as he grabbed a box, causing you to gasp,

"No, the tomatoes are mine." you groaned, trying to get your food back.

Pulling hard on the package, you wouldn't surrender, but your hands slipped, letting go of the precious tomatoes and your body was thrown back. Henry caught you just in time, an arm snaking around your waist, the other still holding the vegetables. The tickling, almost stinging sensation made your skin burn again and your stomach clenched deliciously. Rather amused by your reactions, Henry gave you a questioning look,

"I thought you were avoiding."

Without hesitation, you hit his chest with the palm of your hand.

"Asshole."

"I'm getting used to this one." he uttered, releasing his embrace.

You placed a strand of your hair back behind your ear and Henry made a face,

"Let's order something."

"Yeah, let's do this."

Henry mechanically called the closest Chinese restaurant and you both moved to the living room. Sprawling on the couch, you closed your eyes for a moment. The sound of Henry’s typing on his computer lulled you and you started to drift off.

"I know you like being carried to bed, but..." he started and you opened an eye, ready to spit another homemade insult, but a knock on the door kept you from talking.

"Food's here !" you squealed.

It was still hot, and you were terribly hungry.

You sat down on the couch with your precious ramen and opened the box. This time, your stomach was twisting, because it was craving food.

Henry eventually came next to you, searching the bag. He leaned back into the couch and started eating silently. You looked up at him. Nope, you weren’t going to talk first.

"Had a good day ?" he tried, causing you to shrug. After a moment, his dark gaze settled on you and Henry grumbled, "I fed your cat, I swear to God I did. She didn’t stop cooing and purring after that."

Yeah, that sounded like your cat. And yet, you weren’t going to forgive him so easily.

"I got it. Not going to talk." he nodded and paused, "I saw you by the window, with Ken."

You flushed.

He'd seen you ?

You wanted to answer so hard, but there was plenty of food in your mouth and Henry kept going,

"Hm. Not to dictate your life, but drop the shitty boyfriend."

Choking on your noodles, you brought a hand to your mouth. Now, it didn't matter how much food was stuck between your teeth,

"Fuck you !" you mumbled, hiding your lips with your fingers, "You don't know anything about him. His name is Andres, and you're a judgmental ass."

Henry glanced at his food and took a few bites,

"Maybe, but I'm being honest with you, am I not ?"

"Honest ? You’re being a dick ! Andres is nice. This morning was terrible. I got late because of you ! You know what, Andres is the nicest person I've met so far. He's not arrogant, nor pretentious. Our little talk was relaxing." you paused, "After this evening with him, I can't stop thinking and... I'm amazed at how caring some people can be, and at how insignificant we are."

You looked away for a while, lost in your thoughts. Meanwhile, Henry raised an eyebrow and shook his head,

"Not me, I'm important."

It burst your dreamy bubble at once and you narrowed your eyes at him. This man couldn’t stop. Calmly, you put your empty box on the table.

"Henry, do you know how we make someone kind and holy, like Andres ?"

Seriousness writ on his features, a suspicious frown appeared on his forehead,

"Well, I don't know. Probably by cutting off their testicles."

Oh hell.

"You have to beat the hell out of them." you growled and suddenly, your fists hit his chest, causing him to cough in surprise.

In a desperate attempt to defend himself, Henry dropped his box and grabbed your wrists.

"Stop it Y/N !" he stifled, struggling to push you back.

Panting, you started laughing. The tension you’d kept all day long slowly faded away as you giggled, trying to reach his chest with your hands. Without warning, you pushed hard with your whole body and Henry fell on his back.

Out of breath, you plunged your eyes into his deep blue ones, hands still pressing against his strong arms,

"So, you still think Andres is a dumbass ? Because I can do this all night." you uttered.

Damn it Y/N. All night ?

Not releasing his grip around your wrists, Henry suddenly stopped putting efforts into lifting you above him. In seconds, his demeanor went from the grumpy neighbor who pissed you off, to a worked up, soft but still dominating version of himself.

Slowly, you felt your chest pressing against his torso, then your legs intertwining with his. The slight movement, paired with the fire in his eyes was making you squeeze your legs together. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You looked away for a split second, realizing your lips were only inches away from his, but then his eyes locked on yours.

The look he was giving you could have melted iron. Damn it. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

Yes, just looked at you, his face emotionless but stern, studying you closely. He was driving you crazy, edging you on, and still giving you that stupid look.

This was exactly what you craved.

The way his fingers grazed lightly against your skin radiated this dominant energy despite the fact that you were on top. He had a way of making you feel like all of you couldn’t escape him. No matter what.

Heart still pounding, you blinked in confusion. You didn’t know when or how, but your mouth opened,

"You don't know anything Hen’,” you whispered, “you just act like it."

You saw his eyes flutter and his tongue slipped against his soft lips as he held your gaze, making it even more difficult to resist. His warm breath crashed near your lips and he released a low “Hm” of resignation. 

The grip on your wrists loosened into a soft touch, setting you free.

God, you wanted to kiss him. 

Every gear started turning into your head and you forced yourself to come back to your senses,

"If you ever feel stupid, or powerless..." you whispered, still hovering over him,  "Remember that I'm not."

With that, you moved back and jumped on your feet, leaving him lying here, breathless.

Henry freaking Cavill would never have you.

Little did you know that he liked challenges.

-

* Italic means your tag isn’t working 

My Neighbor Tag list : @boiled-onionrings , @sheanaghgoldenheartblog,@allnewimaginecharliehunnam , @drewmcintyreinarefereeoutfit , @mc225g , @supernaturalvikingwhore, @the-nerdy-lock, @devilbat , @heelsamizayn , @wolfiepirate , @the-marvelatic , @holychic , @avengergirl130 , @laurakasus , @maia-hocane , @sarahdangerfieldd, @jocelynscloset, @marycampbellxxx, @kathhdd, @barikawho, @elisewithak, @redrxbel, @lazyladyworld, @the-marvelatic, @comfortingcreature, @jesseswartzwelder, @mxtchbyx, @sea-rtina, @comfortingcreature

Tag list Henry / Geralt : @d14n4ol, @alwayshave-faith, @marycampbellxxx, @wolfyandy, @dirty--heart​

Tag list * Geralt of Rivia : @emmalbg​ , @the-nerdy-lock

Everything tag list : @darling-loki​, @hufflepuff-flufflepuff, @medussaurora​, @addyliners​, @lokilvrr​, the-marvelatic, @jesseswartzwelder​

[jayankles]

The Cat’s Out of the Bag

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Platonic), Eventual Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1361

Warning: partying, mentions of sex

Written for: @spndeanbingo, @spngenrebingo, @goodthingshappenbingo, @spnonewordbingo, @spnfluffbingo, @samwinchesterbingo @spnquotebingo

Squares Filled: Roommates AU, College AU, Big Sweaters, Brother, Roommates Brother, Standford!Sam, free space (“close your mouth, sweetie, you’ll catch flies.”)

Sighing, you took a look around the state of your apartment, or a pig sty you referred to in this moment. You almost whined at how much work you were going to have to do today. When it came to parties, you and your roommate always seemed to forget about the aftermath of the greatness that came the night before.

After smacking your head on the wall a few times, you snapped out of your stupor and headed back to your room, this was definitely a moment for your cleaning playlist. Unfortunately, you still hadn’t made one yet so you would have to stick to shuffle for now. As much as you wanted to leave this place as it was, you knew you couldn’t. It would absolutely drive you crazy,you would much rather get the cleaning over and done with, you could clean this shit hole before anyone even thought about coming over. 

Pressing the play button, you started with your bed, stripping off the sheets and throwing them into the laundry basket. One job down, another 20 or so to go. You picked up all the red cups,throwing them into the trash bag, as many as you could carry. Scattered everywhere was popcorn kernels, candy wrappers, and - you almost puked when you saw it but a condom wrapper; not pleasant at all.

That was your bedroom cleaned, finished in a record time of six and a half songs. You couldn’t wait to find out what joys and pleasures awaited you on the other side of that door. You were not disappointed when you found Dean sprawled out on the floor, drinks spilt, more chaos than what was in your room. It was time to put in some earbuds and have the music blasting in your ears. It was better than to wake Dean and have him in one of his moods, you knew better than to wake him when he had a night like last night.

Weaving your way around Dean, you cleaned up as much as you could. More cups, more trash, even squashed and crushed food, it was just more of everything, you started to feel sorry for all the cleaners and janitors at the school. When you finally finished, you sighed in relief, it was the last time in a long time that the two of you held a party in your dorm. Thankfully, you didn’t find any other people in your apartment.

After taking a shower, you put on a pair of leggings, your most comfortable pair, a tank top then went in search for the piece of clothing that you desired the most. His huge sweater, the one with the enormous hood, the one that drowns you every time you wear it. You knew exactly where to find it; in the clean laundry basket hidden away in the back of your closet to hide from the guests, hopefully no one rummaged around in there and took anything. You would have to kill someone if anyone messed with that hoodie. Yes! Right where you left it the night before. Immediately, you pulled it over your head and let it fall, the hem of it grazing the top of your knees.

“Morning, sleepy head.” You said as you walked out of your room, seeing Dean up and rapidly blinking before he rubbed the sleep from them. “Don’t worry, there is a coffee coming and when you get the stench of alcohol off of you we can go to that cafe, you know, the one with that waitress you like.”

“Awesome.” He murmured coarsely, loaded with sleep still. Taking the coffee from you, he nodded his thanks. “Give me twenty minutes and we’ll leave. Nice sweater, by the way.”

“Shut up and get a move on, I’m ready for something extremely greasy. Especially after the stunt you pulled last night.” Of course, he hadn’t really done anything other than continuously drink and pass out but it was fun to watch him writhe, trying to figure out what he had done.

“Thank you, Donna.” You smiled at the waitress, Dean practically gawking at her as she took your order and walked away to give it to the chef. “You know, you should just ask her out.”

“I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t want to leave you, that’s just not fair to you, Y/L/N.”

You feigned a loving smile but you knew exactly what was happening. “Oh dear, is the great Dean Winchester scared?”

He scoffed, pulling an ‘as if’ face, Dean leaned back in his seat, he knew you were right, he had to distract you, get the subject off of his and onto you. His eyes lit up, he had the perfect distraction. “Why don’t you ask out your own crush, huh?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” You winked at him. “Besides, it’s just a comfy jumper. I’d wear one of yours but you’re selfish.”

It was then that Donna placed your order down, your favourite condiments on the side. You ate happily, doing a little dance as you shoveled in your food, an overloaded fork at a time. You discussed the party last night, leaving a few parts out mostly because you couldn’t remember but really they just didn’t feel like important details .

You loved these moments with Dean, even though you lived together, you barely had anytime to just relax and spend your time enjoying his company. But it was too short lived as you completely gobbled up every piece of your food, definitely worth every penny.

Pulling your wallet out of your purse, you called over Donna so you could pay the bill and leave a tip. “Oh yeah forgot to tell you that your brother is hot shit. I’d definitely fuck him… is that what you were looking for?”

You saw him cringe, it was the reaction you were looking for but it cost you revealing to your roommate that you liked his brother a little too much.

“A, that’s fucking disgusting and two, you’re welcome.” His disgusted face changed into a smirk as he sat forward, crossing his arms in front of him on the table after he had pinched a blueberry from his plate and popped it into his mouth.

“What are you talking about, ‘you’re welcome.’” You mimicked him in a ridiculous deeper voice. But you saw him pointing over your shoulder. Shit. You knew that look and you hated it, especially when you were on the wrong end of it. He had fucked you over this time and you had no idea why, what or who until you spun around on your heels, finding Sam fucking Winchester with a soft smile on his face.

“Well that was a nice hello. You, wearing my sweatshirt and confessing that you think I'm hot amongst other things.” He shyly looked you up and down before taking his bottom lips in between his teeth.

“Yes ma’am.” Dean answered sulkily, he grabbed his jacket and headed out with his brother.

A few moments after the Winchester brothers did, you exited the cafe, failing to hide your smile. “When you get a call or text from the hot waitress… you’re welcome.”

You took a moment to breathe and decided it was now or never. Strutting up to Sam, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to your height, your lips colliding in a bruising kiss. You felt him smile against your lips and soon after, he kissed you with a little more force. A moment later, you heard Dean cough behind you. You figured it was time to break apart.

“I missed you.” You whispered, just loud enough for Sam to hear. Your hands trail from his neck to his hips, holding him close. Sam pressed his forehead to yours, his huge hands cupping your cheeks.

“Missed you too, it’s been too long.”

When you turned around to see Dean with a gobsmacked look on his face. “Close your mouth, sweetie, you’ll catch flies.” You smirked when your hand closed his mouth for him. “I’m gonna smash your brother, you need to find somewhere to be other than the apartment, bye.”

Feedback is gold and very much appreciated

Forevers: @super100012 @lupine-princess @plaid-lover-bay25 @atc74 @growningupgeek @sophiebobzz @docharleythegeekqueen @poukothenerd @grace-for-sale @mrswhozeewhatsis @jesspfly @supernaturallymarvellous @sammysgirl1997 @roxyspearing @mogaruke @be-amaziing @deanandsamsbitch @frankiea1998 @hennessy0274-blog @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @iwantthedean @capsheadquaters @emoryhemsworth @notmoose45 @essie1876 @cassieraider @brewsthespirit-blog @its-my-perky-nipples @riversong-sam @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @jadalecki-jackles @spnbaby-67 @holyfuckloueh @gh0stgurl @alyssa6marie @esoltis280 @bumber-car-s @alexwinchester23 @x-waywardaf-x @thisismysecrethappyplace @randomparanoid @kellianz

Dean: @kenmen02 @ain-t-bovvered @deans-baby-momma  @ericaprice2008 @shamelesslydean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wingedcatninja @mayasmedberg @kurosaki224-new-blog @valerieshubin @milo-winchester-4ever @sandlee44 @ruprecht0420​ @akshi8278​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @dslocum89​ @plaidstiel-wormstache​ @ria132love​ @welldonebeca​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @starry-chaos @deans-treasure @larajadeschmidt13​ @misticty @nyxveracity​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​

[foursideharmony]

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 4)

Summary: Roman and the White Witch make their move. Then the Witch makes her move. Then Roman makes his.

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: Nothing serious, some descriptions of mild sick feelings

Word Count: 2614

Read on AO3: here

Aslan, the Great Lion, son of the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea...the true and ultimate King of Narnia...loped westward across the ocean, the deep rose light of pre-dawn at his back, bounding over the swells as if they were grassy hills. The spray did not even dampen his mighty paws. He was very near his destination, occasionally leaping or dodging floating chunks of ice that had broken off from the freeze that gripped Narnia. They tended to melt as he passed—indeed, a careful observer would have noticed that a span of water around the Lion was tinted a pleasant blue-green, contrasting sharply with the dismal, wintry gray of the rest.

The time was near. Very soon, Narnia would be liberated from its oppressor.

Aslan was within sight of the shore, running over whitecaps. Another half-minute or so and he would be on the beach...but someone was approaching from the north, skimming over the water on an enchanted ice floe. He recognized his old enemy, Jadis the White Witch, the very one he was there to oust from the land...and she was accompanied...

...by a Son of Adam. The young man was richly dressed and held aloft a faceted stone the color of iron or tarnished lead. The Witch wielded her wand. When they were scarcely a stone's throw from Aslan, the human shouted “Now!” and the two of them began to chant:

“Dragon smoke and harpy’s shriek

What was mighty, now is weak

Pluck the mane and quell the roar

Let Narnia have her King no more!”

This they repeated thrice, circling Aslan on their makeshift watercraft. The Lion roared with dismay as a golden nimbus coalesced around him, pulsating and coruscating, and then was drawn off and toward the young man. Honey-colored light flowed into the strange gem, and Aslan appeared to shrink into himself. A wave crashed over him as the two enemies completed their spell.

Jadis and Roman rode the ice floe back to the shore. “How will we know if it worked?” said the White Witch.

“Take a look, Your Majesty,” said Roman, holding up the gem, which had lost its dullness and taken on the clarity and fire of a diamond. Nor was it any longer cold to the touch.

“I cannot touch it, you know,” she said. “Even so contained, that power would burn me alive. He is my opposite in every way. And you guarantee that he is now too weak to do us harm of himself?”

“Judge for yourself,” Roman said, pointing back toward the sea. Some small creature was feebly paddling through the cold gray waves, barely staying afloat amid the breakers. Just as the dawn broke, the tumbling waves deposited it on the sand, where it staggered to its feet, sneezed, shook off a coating of seafoam...and was a cat. A tawny long-haired tomcat, looking perfectly ridiculous as drenched as it was, mewling piteously. It didn't have the strength to run away when the pair approached.

“It would not have worked if he had made landfall first,” Roman said. “The soil of Narnia bolsters him.”

The White Witch raised her wand. “And now the stone of Narnia will be one with him.”

“Wait!” Roman barked. The Witch turned a furious glare upon him. “A slain enemy cannot feel the humiliation of its defeat,” Roman explained. He lunged, caught the cat by the scruff of its neck, and lifted it to his eye level. “We'll cage him back at the castle. And when we tire of him...I think a public petrifaction would send an irrefutable message to your subjects.”

The Witch's eyes widened ever so slightly and she almost smiled. “You have an admirable understanding of these matters, Prince Roman.”

Roman brought the cat right up to his face. “Is this villainous enough for you?” he muttered.

“Roman,” the cat said in the unmistakable deep, regal voice of Aslan, “what have you done?”

Roman recoiled as if bitten, and the cat twisted in his grasp, slashing at his hand with unsheathed claws. Roman lost his hold; the cat dropped awkwardly to the sand and took off like a shot, straight up the beach to the shelter of the scrubby shore plants. They lost sight of him within seconds...but not before Roman noticed that the frost in a very small circle around the animal vanished, only to return after he moved on. He carried a tiny sliver of spring with him.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon,” said the Witch in a clipped tone. She strode up to Roman and slapped his face, and her strength was such that he spun off his feet. “FOOL! You let him escape!”

Roman waited a moment for his ears to stop ringing before he even ventured to sit up. “Madam,” he panted, “will you treat me so discourteously?”

“I will treat you however I please. I am Queen. Do not delude yourself that this is a partnership of equals. Now get up. We have to intercept these 'friends' of yours.”

Roman felt a little flutter of fear for his fellow Sides. “Is that really necessary?” he said as he got his feet under him and checked that he still had the gem. He put it in his pocket for safekeeping. “We've won. Aslan can't crown them now. Once he fails to show up at the meeting place, they won't know what to do except go home.”

“Stripped of his power or no, I will take no chances as long as he is free. And our likelihood of capturing him again is miniscule.”

Roman opened his mouth to urge her not to harm them, but thought better of it—with the mood she was in, she would take it as a reason to be crueler. He simply lapsed into silence as the Witch's sleigh caught up with them and they climbed aboard.

“Is it done?” asked her Dwarf driver.

“More or less,” the Witch sighed irritably.

“Home, then, Your Majesty?”

“No—head inland. We must track down the other three Sons of Adam.”

“What does Your Majesty intend with them?” asked the Dwarf, flicking the reins.

“You know...I really have not decided yet. A great deal depends upon Roman's own comportment between now and when we find them.”

Roman closed his eyes as they traveled on, wondering fervently what to do next.

He had to assume the story knew what it was doing. Not because that was the most likely scenario, but because it was his best bet to stay hopeful.

*****************

The weary group crested a hill, looking toward the breaking dawn. From there, nearly the whole eastern basin of Narnia was visible. “There, see?” said Mr. Beaver. “The hill of the Stone Table. That's where we're going. And if you look a little further on, to the coast, you can just make out Cair Paravel, the palace of the true rulers of Narnia. One thing about all this snow—the castle walls stand out a lot better at a distance.”

“But Aslan will bring springtime, right?” Patton said, fluffing the hood of his coat.

“Of course he will, dearie,” said Mrs. Beaver. “We should start seeing the first signs soon enough; he must have arrived in Narnia by now.”

Yet nothing changed for at least two more hours as the party trudged on, through calf-deep snow and freezing gusts. From time to time, wolf howls sounded in the distance: the Witch's enforcers.

They were crossing a broad meadow, out in the open, exposed, when they heard a sudden shriek of triumph, followed by: “There! Three Sons of Adam with the Beavers! Faster!” and a sleigh burst from the edge of the forest off to the side. The White Witch had risen from her seat in her murderous excitement, bracing one hand against the back of the driver's seat while the other held her wand aloft. The reindeer accelerated steadily under the Dwarf's goad, fog streaming from their muzzles.

Beside the Witch, slumped over on the seat, was Roman.

“Run!” shouted Mr. Beaver.

“But...Roman!” said Patton. “We have to rescue him!”

“Nothing we can do right now, dearie!” said Mr. Beaver. “We've got to take cover!”

They fled, but it was utterly useless; the sleigh gained on them by leaps and bounds, whizzing over the snow that they struggled through. Ironically, what saved them in the moment was itself a minor misfortune—Virgil caught his foot on a large fallen branch hidden in the snow and went sprawling, but in the process it came loose and skittered directly into the reindeer's path, forcing them to veer off. Virgil scrambled back to his feet, adrenaline lending him both strength and grace, and though brief, the digression gave the party just enough time to reach the edge of the trees and lose themselves amid the underbrush.

“We have to go back,” Patton whispered frantically, tucked under the boughs of a bush. “For Roman, we have to—”

“Ssh!” Virgil interrupted, a hint of his Tempest Tongue coming through. Crunching footsteps were approaching.

“I will find you all, Sons of Adam,” came the silvery voice of the White Witch. “You cannot hide from me here in my own realm.” Mercifully, she moved away after a moment, and the party took her moment of inattention to scamper into a more distant bit of cover.

But there was no way to be quiet enough, and they soon heard her approaching again, more resolutely. She was going to find them, she was going to kill them (or petrify them, which amounted to the same thing)—

But she didn't. Something else happened instead, something that involved shouting and crackles of magical energy, and then virtual silence.

Five pairs of worried, bewildered eyes met each other in turn. No one dared to speak for a long moment. Then Logan carefully got to his feet and looks around. “It's clear,” he said. “She's gone.”

“Gone where?” asked Virgil with just a hint of Tempest.

“I...do not know. But I believe we can safely proceed toward our original destination.”

“Maybe now spring will come...” said Patton, getting up and dusting the snow and forest debris off his clothes. But he didn't sound very hopeful. “I just wish I knew if Roman was okay.”

“May I remind you, this is Roman's story,” said Logan. “He is fine. He is in control.”

Virgil made a derisive snort but said nothing.

“All right then,” said Mr. Beaver. “I've got our bearings again.”

They picked themselves up and continued.

***********

Mere moments earlier...

Roman squeezed his eyes shut all the harder as the sleigh swerved and skidded to a stop, sending up gouts of slush to either side. The seat rocked slightly as Jadis stepped down. “Remain here,” she said. “I will return shortly.” Roman heard her striding away.

Going after the other Sides. His family.

But what could he do about it? This was the role the story had chosen for him: the willing but ultimately outclassed ally of the White Witch. His cheek still burned where she had slapped him, more from the humiliation than the blow itself, which had long since faded. If he defied her openly, tried to stop her from attacking his fellow Sides, he would only share their fate.

Death? No. Story scenarios in the Imagination couldn't literally end their existence; that would make no sense at all. They would just be expelled back into the Mindscape proper, as if waking up from a bad dream. But it would mean he had failed.

I thought I was your hero...

Roman was suddenly furious. At the story for taking these turns, or at himself for setting things up so ineptly at the outset? Was there even a difference? It was his Imagination. Either way, he had trusted the story, and it was betraying him. He could deal with startling twists, downbeat second acts, even tragic endings, as long as the whole was satisfying. But this? Having the main bad guy just roll up and kill the heroes at what would normally be the midpoint? A travesty!

In a burst of inspiration, Roman opened his eyes, stood up, and vaulted lightly from the sleigh.

“Just where do you think you're going?” demanded the Dwarf, who had been adjusted the reindeer's tack. “You heard Her Majesty!”

Roman had been ready for it, and he whipped his sword out of its sheath and leveled it at the Dwarf's face. “Do not try to stop me.”

The Dwarf made a brief, tight nod, swallowed hard, and stood aside by a pace or two. Roman located the Witch's tracks, heading straight toward the nearby trees, and he followed them at a run.

The gem felt very heavy, and almost warm, in his pocket.

He spied the Witch some distance away among the trees, moving with purpose. He came just close enough to let her realize he was approaching, took the gem out, and began chanting.

“Dragon smoke and harpy's shriek

What was mighty, now is weak.”

She stopped short and turned to face him. “What are you doing?”

The second couplet leapt into his mind fully formed:

“Scoop the snow and scrape the frost

Her reign must end at any cost!”

The White Witch's eyes widened in alarm as the jewel began to suck her power away, just as it had Aslan's. Blue-white light ripped out of her in coils and flares, and her voice rose to a scream as she realized what was happening. For the gem was able to subtract enough of Aslan's power away to leave only a Talking Cat...but Jadis was nowhere near as puissant. The same amount of energy, taken from her, left...nothing.

A torrent of cold magic lanced toward Roman's gem, but it could not enter. The power of the White Witch—the power that was the White Witch—and the power of Aslan could not coexist in the same space. The bluish light shied away from the jewel and plunged, instead, directly into Roman himself.

Ice gripped his heart with a suddenness that made him gasp for breath. His head spun like a tilt-a-whirl. Roman managed to take two, three steps before the forest tipped up on edge and the snow-dusted ground slammed into his shoulder. The ice was spreading, spearing through his shoulders, encasing his lungs and stomach.

Roman made himself get up and staggered out of the trees back toward the sleigh. His head did not feel good.

“Where is the Queen?” asked the Dwarf.

Roman had no answer, but as he made eye contact, the Dwarf's mouth dropped open. He skipped back a step and then pressed his hands together in an almost prayerful pose and bowed so low that his head nearly brushed the ground. “Your Majesty,” he murmured. “Your Majesty.”

Roman climbed back into the sleigh. “Take me ho—take me back to the castle,” he panted. The ice continued to crawl outward from his core. He checked to make sure he hadn't dropped the gem along the way—he hadn't, but the flesh of his hand looked strange somehow.

Imagine if the others saw you now, said a voice not his own, from deep inside his head. He shuddered at the thought, and supposed that was why he had gone straight back to the sleigh instead of trying to find them himself. But the real horror, the one that had yet to sink in fully, the one he wasn't ready to let sink in just yet, was this:

He had no idea where the story was supposed to go from here.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 11

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Heyyyyyaaaaaaa. I’m going to be honest with y’all. I have not been working on this story like I should have since I started posting. That being said, I do have a few more chapters completed but then things get a littleeeeee fuzzy bc I’ve been slacking. I’m going to try to keep up with the posting schedule I have rn, but if that doesn’t work out, please forgive me. I may need to pause for a few weeks to stack up some more chapters. BUT CROSS YOUR FINGERS I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER. As always, please like and reblog and leave me an ask if you can. :’) When you’re done reading, I would love for you guys to go find a petition you haven’t signed yet. All of my love. Xx

Melody still had nightmares. Horrible ones. Awful, haunting dreams that pressed at the edges of reality, blurring lines between sleeping and waking. But they somehow became less constant and more bearable within the next few weeks. Whether it was due to Harry’s constant, tender touches as she fell asleep every night, or to the ugly, unartistic paintings and incoherent writing she’d forced out, there were no clues. She thought Harry deserved the credit, but he thought it could be a mix of both.

Early snow dusted the city like powdered sugar, lightly enough to look pretty without making traffic a mess. Melody felt the cold dampen her mood, but Harry only seemed to brighten at the prospect of a blizzard warning. Snow dazzled him. Despite everything he’d experienced in his relatively short life, somehow winter had always remained a sort of sanctuary for him. And he’d softened himself toward everyone as a result.

“Ugh, do I have to go?” Melody asked aloud when she reentered the bedroom to find him laid out on her bed. He looked so cozy and warm in a pair of sweats with his hair mussed atop his head. She bent over him to plant a chaste kiss to his lips.

“No,” Harry said, “yeh don’.”

She smiled ruefully and stole another soft kiss from him. “Yes, I do.”

“Yeh don’ have to. Could stay here with me.”

“Harry.” Melody accepted his return kisses as he sat himself up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress.

“Melody.” He ran a thumb over the curve of her chin and sighed.

“I need to go. Please, be nice to Bea.”

“Always am.”

“Sure you are.” She pressed her lips to his one final time and let them linger a few moments too long, until she felt his fingers sneaking around the back of her neck. If she let him touch her too much she’d end up late to her own match. “Okay, I’m leaving,” she insisted as she backed away. “I’m going. Bye.”

Harry watched her slip out of the room, collecting her gym bag on the way. He was relieved that she hadn’t told him she loved him. Every time he heard the words on her tongue he felt his very organs shift, felt them contort and fold in on themselves. He would never, ever tell her the way it made him feel, but he hoped that eventually, when he still wasn’t saying it back, she might just let the sentiment die. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

“Let’s go, Harry!” Bea called from the living room.

He sighed as he rose to his feet and lumbered out of the bedroom, his cane clicking on the hardwood. The door to the apartment closed before he made it past the threshold of the room. It was only him and Bea left. There was still an awkward air between them, but it was beginning to thin. Harry thought it was because of his help with Melody’s nightmares. He didn’t like the idea that Bea had ever thought he’d be useless in a situation like that. He didn’t like that doing the bare minimum to comfort Melody had somehow made Bea more open to him.

“You don’t look enthused.”

“I don’ like to bullshit,” Harry responded.

Bea grinned. She patted the cushion beside her and waited for him to sit. She didn’t seem bothered that he sat farther from her than necessary.

“Aren’t you wondering what we’re gonna watch?” Bea asked.

Harry shrugged. “Not really.”

“What if I picked a chick flick?”

“Then I’d just fall asleep.”

“You’re not falling asleep tonight,” Bea stated. “We’re watching The Silence of the Lambs.”

Harry’s lack of reaction seemed to deflate her. She clicked a button on the remote and the opening credits of the film began to roll.

“I have no clue how you’re with someone who writes and paints,” Bea murmured.

“If yeh figure it out, let me know.”

The pair lapsed into silence as the movie started. And didn’t even exchange a glance when Queenie appeared, curling up on the cushion between them.

Bea paused after a bit to take a call from Josie and microwave a bag of popcorn, and when she returned she found her cat sprawled across Harry’s lap, purring loudly, much to Harry’s chagrin. She had to consciously stop herself from spitting out laughter. Instead, she sat back in her seat and slid the bowl of popcorn into the spot that Queenie had abandoned.

***

“That was fucked up,” Harry eventually said, when the end credits of the movie had been rolling for a few minutes.

“Yes.”

“He wore the guy’s face.”

“He eats people. I feel like that’s the more fucked up of the two.”

Harry shook his limbs, as though he could expel the disturbing parts of the movie from his memory. Queenie, who hadn’t moved since she settled into his lap, took unkindly to his movement, stretched to the floor, and bounded into Bea’s bedroom.

“Glad Melody didn’t watch this one.”

Bea drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “Melody loves scary movies,” she informed him. "But that’s because she knows they’re not real. She’s not—It’s different when you live it, right?”

Harry fell silent. Whether she agreed or not, he was the one that had dragged Melody into a horror film of her own. Now she could barely sleep in her own bed because of his brother. And he didn’t know how else he could help, how else he could ward off the monsters.

“Speak of the devil,” Bea said as she caught sight of Harry’s phone, where it buzzed on the coffee table. “Mel” was spelled across the screen. Harry leaned forward to answer the call and bring the phone to his ear.

“Hi.”

“Hey, man.”

Sean’s voice sounded muffled and uneasy. Harry felt himself stiffen almost immediately, and his body language conveyed something to Bea. She unfolded her legs to place her feet flat on the floorboards.

“Wha’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Because yeh’re callin’ me from Melody’s phone and yeh sound like yeh’re about to get in trouble. Don’ fuck with me.”

There was a brief hiccup of a chuckle on the other end of the line. It was a nervous sound. Harry didn’t like it one bit.

“Uh, she lost her match.” Sean cleared his throat before he went on. “She’s about to get an X-ray of her torso done right now. I’m sure it’s just—”

“Fuckin’ Christ, Sean! Yeh could’ve led with that.” Harry was already on his feet, reaching for the arm of the sofa to keep his balance when he realized he was forgetting his cane. He doubled back and waved off Bea’s desperate vie for information.

“She’s probably fine!” Sean defended. “I don’t think she broke anything or she would’ve been a little more hysterical.”

“For fuck’s sake. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Harry hung up before Sean could respond. “She’s gettin’ X-rays at the hospital,” he spat at Bea, who was following him around and demanding to know what was going on. “Might have a broken rib or somethin’.”

So much for this strange bonding experience that Melody had insisted on. It felt more like something sorority sisters might do on the weekends than anything else, anyway. And Harry didn’t wait for Bea as he hobbled down the complex stairs, struggling into a jacket while supporting himself with his cane. But somehow she ended up in the cab with him, and their mutual silence felt unifying.

***

“Floor two,” the woman at the lobby’s desk said. Harry was already crossing to the elevators, so she nearly shouted the room number to him. Bea, despite being in perfect health, had to rush to keep up with him. Her curls bounced with every hurried step.

“Harry, I’m sure she’s okay.” She tugged the zipper down on her jacket as they waited for an elevator and tried to catch her breath. This felt like exercise, and Bea hated exercise. “Not that you shouldn’t be worried,” she continued, “but don’t act like she’s on the brink of death. She’s used to injuries.”

Harry snorted humorlessly. Melody didn’t know what injuries were. She told him once that she’d never been to the hospital for herself. It was always a cousin giving birth or her father getting stitches. She had never split her skin open far enough to get stitched up herself, or been hit so hard that her insides were bleeding, or snapped a bone.

There was a musical ding as an elevator reached the ground floor. Harry didn’t wait for the family on it to exit before he shouldered past them and jammed his thumb into the button for the second story. Bea was more patient. She allowed everyone out before she stepped in beside Harry and watched him smash the button to close the elevator doors. It was almost endearing to see him so concerned, but it was also too intense for her tastes.

There was no elevator music to lull the pair of them. They waited in silence until they reached the floor that Melody was on and then navigated through the halls quickly until they found the correct room number. Sean was just inside the door.

“Ah, I thought you’d gotten lost or—”

“Fuck you,” Harry snapped as he stepped past his friend. Melody was laying in a hospital bed. This setting was so familiar to Harry, but with the roles reversed, it felt like he was having a nightmare of his own.

“You don’t have to be rude to him, you know,” Melody muttered.

She had an awful, swelling bruise on her forehead, so close to her temple that it could’ve made Harry sick. She was in a sports bra, and for the first time he noticed Vanessa, who was meticulously wrapping up Melody’s ribcage.

“‘S not broken?” was the first thing Harry said.

“No,” Vanessa answered.

“Bruised.” Sean took a step forward, trying to insert himself back into the conversation that he had been ejected from. “She was doing really well and then—”

“I don’ wanna hear from you,” Harry interrupted. Melody rolled her eyes. Sean sighed.

“Fine, I guess I’ll go home,” he said. “I’ll let Goodman know you’re out for at least a month.”

Melody’s eyes widened and when she moved, the pressure on her ribs made her flinch. “A month?”

“At least,” Sean repeated.

“It’s a bruise.”

“‘S a bruised rib, Melody,” Harry snapped.

Sean left without any goodbyes. Bea leaned up against the wall where he’d been standing and lifted an eyebrow. “Thought you had defenses like a brick wall,” she teased.

“Shut up,” Melody mumbled as Vanessa finished her work. The room fell silent.

“Do you want some ice for your face?” Vanessa asked eventually, when Melody had been avoiding everyone’s eyes and the rest of them were sick of looking at each other.

“No, I can just—”

“Yes, she’ll take some ice,” Harry cut in.

“You tend to interrupt people,” Melody informed him. She laid back gently against the pillows that had been propped up behind her. “Have you noticed?”

Bea snorted. “Pretty sure he does it on purpose,” she said before wandering out of the room. Vanessa glanced between Harry and Melody and then followed Bea. The tension that had already filled the air seemed to thicken, settling over the two of them like an unnavigable fog. Harry sliced through it first.

“This is why I don’ want yeh fighting,” he said.

“You’re such a hypocrite, Harry,” she muttered. Then her voice rose. “If you were still in the ring you’d be getting injured, too. And I—”

Harry ignored the sting that he felt, the knowledge that he couldn’t box in his current condition. What if she wasn’t able to write? These days it seemed just that she didn’t want to, but if she wasn’t able to, wouldn’t she feel this same sort of despair? “Mel, yeh bruised your fuckin’ rib.” He took a step further into the room. “A little more pressure and it breaks. A little less luck and it punctures a fuckin’ lung and yeh’re chokin’ on blood. These are not just injuries. Yeh didn’ just fall off a bike and scrape your knee.”

Melody paused. She didn’t know how to respond. That sounded like her own fears spit back in her face. A half inch to the left and that bullet would’ve killed you.

“Are you going to keep yelling?”

“‘M not fuckin’ yelling. Do yeh want me to yell?” Harry’s brows knitted together and he shook his head. “What did yeh expect, me to lay down next to yeh and tell yeh ‘m so glad yeh’re okay? ‘S not happenin’. Think I’ve made my feelings pretty clear when it comes to this.”

“Actually, I didn’t expect anything. I didn’t want to call you.” Melody licked her lips as she studied the anger etched into the lines of Harry’s face, and then the minuscule shift as he realized that Sean was on his side. At least in this moment. “It comes with being a boxer,” she said after a pause. “You told me that once.”

Harry sighed. “Yeh’re not a fuckin’ boxer, Mel. Yeh’re a writer. Yeh’re a painter.”

“I can be whatever the fuck I want to be, Harry. And you’re not going to tell me what that is.”

His features hardened for a moment and then he glanced out the window. There was snow falling, slowly and gently, without the force of the brutal wind that would arrive in the coming weeks. It was so peaceful out there, and Harry wondered how he’d let himself become so resentful.

He stared outside for a few long minutes and then let his eyes wander back to Melody, who was already picking absentmindedly at the wrappings of her ribcage. His legs were growing weary and he was on the verge of needing to sit. Melody glanced up when she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Can we go home now?” she asked, and her voice was so soft, so at odds with the way she’d spoken her last sentence, that Harry could feel himself physically jarred by the shift.

“I can’ help yeh walk,” he said, though the words tasted like acid. “Yeh’re gonna need Bea and I dunno where she went off to.”

Melody chewed on her lower lip. She felt guilty for the short argument they’d had, and she could see that same feeling reflected back at her. The match had tired her out, her bruised rib hurt with every expansive breath. In vain, tears began to collect at the corners of her reddening eyes.

“Don’,” Harry said, taking a shaky step forward. He could sense the shift even before he saw her chin trembling. “Please, don’.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” she murmured, pressing her fingers to her eyelids, as if they could keep the water back like a dam. “Uh, how was the movie?”

“It was good,” Harry assured her, surprising himself. He hadn’t known that he enjoyed it until then, when he was put on the spot. Bea appeared like she’d been summoned.

“I heard that!” she nearly shouted. “He liked it!” Then her eyes fell to Melody and her snide grin tipped into a frown. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Melody said with a discrete sniffle. “Can someone ask Vanessa if we can leave?”

“She said you just need to take it easy for a few weeks.” Bea shuffled past Harry and pried Melody’s hands from her face. “Which means no training.”

“Perfect,” Melody mumbled. She allowed Bea to begin shifting her out of the bed, gently twisting her limbs, trying not to tweak her rib. Harry had to lower himself into the chair a few feet from where he had been standing to give his legs some relief.

“The wraps are just for you to get home.” Bea paused as Melody bit back a whimper, waiting for her to straighten her torso. “And she’s hooking you up with some pain meds.”

“Yeh’ll need ‘em,” Harry muttered. He stood back up as the girls made their way toward the door. They were a conspicuous group, with a cane, a wrapped ribcage, and shuffling footsteps. Eyes followed them through the halls, all the way to a cab.

***

Melody’s lips grew white as Harry helped her out of her wrappings. She screwed her eyes shut and her fingertips curled into his knee.

“Okay,” he whispered as he tugged the final loop of fabric loose, leaving her skin bare. The sight of her flesh made him hiss. “Who the fuck hit yeh, the Hulk?”

“Mmm.”

Harry pressed a hand to her cheek. Her skin was hot, damp, and he could feel her jaw twitching, like she might be grinding her teeth. Her breathing was shallow.

“Let’s get yeh some o’ those painkillers, yeah?”

“No, I’m okay,” she whispered, though her voice shook.

“Mel.” He pressed a kiss to one of her closed eyes. “I’ve had a bruised rib before.”

She didn’t respond. He heard her try to take a deeper breath and then felt her neck quiver beneath his fingertips. She shook with the effort of stifling a cough.

“Don’ do that.” He pressed her backward and she gasped, clinging to his arm and letting out an agonized sob at the sharp intake of breath. “‘M sorry,” he rushed. “Love, ‘m sorry. Just sit back for me.”

She let him lower her away from him, eyes still squeezed shut and chin beginning to tremble like it had in the hospital. Her eyelashes were wet and Harry touched his forehead to hers. “Okay?”

“No.”

He let out a short huff of acknowledgment and then lifted the pillow from beside them, holding it tenderly to her chest as he leaned back. “If yeh need to cough just hold this to your chest. ’S still gonna hurt but it’ll be better.”

There was a pause before she wrapped her arms around the pillow and sputtered out a few gentle coughs. Her eyelids fluttered, nails biting into her palms, lips curling into her mouth.

“Melody, yeh don’ have to pretend yeh’re not in fuckin’ pain,” Harry told her, pressing a hard kiss to her cheekbone. He brushed hair away from her forehead, carefully avoiding her bruise, and then used his thumb to pry her lips back into place before kissing them. “Not on my account. ‘M sorry I got angry. I don’ want yeh to fight. But if yeh’re hurtin’ like this ‘m not just gonna tell yeh to suck it up.”

Harry stroked her ear and her tensed facial muscles began to relax. Her lips parted. She opened her eyes to glance up at him and almost immediately let them fall closed again as she began to cry.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled. He didn’t know whether it was for her or for himself. And he didn’t know if her tears were solely from the pain or for another reason entirely.

The mattress shifted despite his best efforts as Harry climbed off the bed. He hurried into the kitchen, gathering Melody’s prescription, a glass of water, and an ice pack. He almost didn’t even realize he’d forgotten his cane until he was laying himself down beside Melody, who had pulled the pillow up to cover the bottom half of her face, stifling her shallow sobs. But this wasn’t a moment to celebrate.

“All right, love, take some o’ these.” He shook out a few pills and reached across her for the glass he’d put on the night table. She lowered the pillow enough to toss the meds back and swallow a gulp of water, but Harry had to tug it from her grip so he could position the ice atop her angry, swelling bruise. Somehow, he’d finagled her bra over her head before attempting to unwrap her, and her breasts erupted in goosebumps at the cold touch.

“It fucking hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know, I know.” Harry settled his hand over the ice pack, pressing his lips to Melody’s shoulder. “Give the pills a little bit o’ time.”

He fell silent and stroked her wrist with his free hand until her tears began to ebb. The clock read one in the morning. Bea had gone to bed as soon as they’d gotten home because she needed to work on a group project the next morning. Harry was beginning to feel tired himself, and he couldn’t imagine how exhausted Melody was.

“Just one problem after another,” he finally said. “Just can’ seem to catch a break, can we?”

“Wouldn’t life be so boring?”

He chuckled against her skin. “Just a little break would be nice, though.”

Melody didn’t respond. Her shallow breathing was beginning to slow. Harry kissed her cheek to check that she was truly asleep before he removed the ice pack from her side and very carefully covered her with the sheets. And he hoped that the rest of her healing would pass more smoothly than this first night.

Chapter 12

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 6

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff/multi-chapter.

"I'm exhausted!" Lucy complained as she finally sat down on the couch. It had been a long week of moving in to their new home and they'd only just finished sorting it all out.

"I think I could sleep for a whole month after that!" Natsu exhaled, as he collapsed on to the seat next to her, sprawling himself out.

It had been hard juggling caring for a baby and trying to make their new house habitable. They hadn't had much sleep and both had been working round the clock to get it all done as quickly as they could. Lucy had given the key back to her apartment a few days ago, so now they were officially living together.

"I've never lived in a house that's so clean and homely before." Natsu said as he looked around at the newly decorated living area. Lucy had been very particular with how she wanted the place to look, it's probably why it had taken longer than expected.

"You do realise that now I'm living with you, I expect you to keep it that way, or…" She stopped, contemplating a good compromise that would catch the dragon slayers attention. "I won't make you dinner every night."

"Every night, huh? Is that a deal?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He would totally put up with cleaning if it meant Lucy would cook for him every night. He loved it when Lucy cooked him food, she was a great cook! Her food was like nothing he'd ever had before. She knew exactly what he liked and she would always make loads with his enormous appetite in mind.

"Hmm… I guess it is. You clean, I'll cook, that sounds fair to me." Staring into his face, she leaned closer to him, "But, break the deal and you won't be getting any dinner." She smirked at him, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"But Lucy, I'd just end up trying to do it myself and burn the kitchen down. You know how careless I can be when I cook." Feigning indifference, he shrugged his shoulders and quirked his lips playfully.

He thought back on all the times he'd nearly burnt down Lucy's little apartment because he'd tried to make them something. It wasn't that he couldn't cook, he was just too impatient when it came to the stove, preferring to use his magic instead. The twinkle slowly faded from her eyes when she realised he was being quite serious.

"You wouldn't dare!" That impish glint was ever present on his face and it was making Lucy nervous. "I forbid it!"

"Try me." He said devilishly, why did he feel the urge to mess with her all the time? "I don't think you'd like the outcome though, Lucy." He leaned in so that his face was mere inches from hers, and teasingly blew hot smoke over her form.

He couldn't hold back his laughter when she gasped at his actions. He was such a bastard sometimes, it wasn't fair that he would always manage to get one up on her. Well not today, she was going to come out victorious for once. And she knew exactly how to do it.

"Oh, back to making threats now are we?" She breathed seductively. She ever so carefully brought herself forwards and climbed into his lap, locking eyes with him she licked her lips and pressed her voluptuous breasts firmly into his exposed chest, spilling out of her less than modest top. "Make me purr, Natsu..." She mewled, laying her head on his shoulder and putting on her best innocent expression, just like she did when she'd had one too many.

"Make you purr? I can do more than that." He growled, a smirk ever present on his face as he watched the redness appear once again on her milky skin.

"What?! Oh my-! Natsu, you can't say things like that!" She said, burying her head in her hands, she felt even more embarrassed now by her own actions. He'd been on to her the entire time! "What is it gonna take?!"

"I can think of a few ways, but acting drunk isn't one of them." He chuckled at her very red blush. "By the way, you have a great body and all, Lucy, but using it against me isn't gonna work either. I've seen you naked way too much for it to shock me any more."

"Wait, you like my body?" She asked, completely taken aback by what he'd said, she felt a little confused. If he liked it then why had he never shown any interest in it? It's not like she hid it or anything, her clothes were pretty revealing.

"Yeah, I thought that was obvious?" He tilted his head at her, now it was his turn to be confused. Had he ever said otherwise? He loved looking at her body, he had just gotten use to seeing her naked, because she seemed to always be naked. "I'm still a guy, Lucy. I went through puberty, just like the rest of 'em."

She leant back so that she was now kneeling between his legs. Why was it such a shock to hear that he liked her body? It was the first time she'd ever heard Natsu say something like that, it had just taken her by surprise is all. She felt those butterflies in her stomach again as she stared intently at him. He really had changed, he never would have spoken like this when they first met.

"Sorry, Natsu. I don't know what came over me. I guess I just wasn't expecting you to say that." She could see the confusion still written on his face, she looked down timidly, fiddling with her fingers, "I-It's just, you don't really act like other guys. They're quite quick to make comments about me, yet you never do. I've never even seen you look, not like that anyway."

"The guys that do that are usually gross, old perverts and they're only seeing from the chest down. But I'm seeing the whole picture, they don't know you like I do. And yeah, you have a great body, but you have a lot of great things, Lucy." He pulled her back into his lap, laying her head against his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, wanting her to be more at ease. She snuggled into him, feeling his chest vibrate as he spoke. "What I really like to see is that sweet smile when it lights up your entire face, and those big brown eyes of yours that tell me everything even when you can't. I know who you are Lucy, and that gives me more satisfaction then staring at you in your birthday suit."

Natsu cuddled her close. He wanted her to feel comfortable around him, their entire relationship was built on loyalty and trust. If he spoke or acted like all those lechers, she'd run for the hills. Lucy was right, he didn't act like other guys, it'd always made him feel uncomfortable when he heard people comment on Lucy's looks when they were out. Some were down right sickening, but he couldn't react to them. As much as he wanted to burn every single asshole that made some sleazy remark about his blonde partner, he had to remember that Lucy was none the wiser to their twisted fantasies. She couldn't hear what he did and it was in those times he was glad for it. If Lucy knew half of what was said, she'd never leave the house again.

Lucy felt her nerves calm, revelling in his comforting hold. She was completely speechless, he'd just said the sweetest things to her. She felt a warmth swell in her chest and that familiar overwhelming feeling came over her again. That need to touch him, to be with him, to show him her affections in the only way she knew how. Her eyes flickered down to his lips, they had felt so soft and warm when she had brushed them before, would he object if she tried to touch them again? Happy wasn't due back from the market yet and Haru was asleep still. She moved slightly to face him, determination on her features.

They both felt the mood shift between them, the air was thick with yearning and need. Lucy leaned up towards his face as he slowly stooped down towards hers. Natsu licked his lips, he moved his hand to the nape of her neck to hold her in place, and took a moment to ogle at her pretty pink face.

Before her courage faded, she leant in, tilting her head, their noses ever so lightly brushed against each other. She opened her mouth, ready to accept his lips with her own. She could feel his breathing become heavier the closer she got, matching his harsh breaths with her own. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and mouth as their lips ever so softly pressed together.

"I'm back guys!" Happy yelled, flying in through the door. Catching a peek of the two mages together on the couch. He put his hand over his mouth and sniggered to himself.

Lucy, lost in what was happening, had jumped out of her skin as soon as Happy had come in, flying off of the couch in her panic and landing on the solid wooden floor. Her head had smacked hard against it and she'd yelped out in pain. Natsu had tried to catch her but she was gone before he could react in time. He looked down at the young blonde, wincing at the sound of her head connecting with the floor.

"Lucy! Are you okay?" Natsu asked her, concerned.

"Ow! My head!" She complained, her head was really hurting. She snapped her head towards the cat, why was he back so soon? "Couldn't you just come in the door like a normal person? Rather then scaring me half to death!" Lucy barked, not hearing Natsu's question in her annoyance towards the blue feline.

She regretted raising her voice instantly. The little whimpers coming from the basket indicated that Haru had been woken prematurely and now he was probably going to scream the house down. Natsu quickly stood, leaning over Lucy's form, holding out his hand to her to help her up and in one swoop she was on her feet, clutching at the painful lump forming on her head.

Happy hadn't taken any notice and had flown into the kitchen to put the food away, clamping down his ears when the baby started wailing at the top of his voice. Natsu stooped over the basket and picked the baby up, holding him against his shoulder. He slowly rubbed the infants back, hoping it would soothe him, but it only seemed to agitate him further. He must have been in a deep sleep if he was this upset from waking up. Lucy retrieved a bottle of milk and gave it to Natsu to warm up. Sitting down on the couch, he laid Haru down on his lap and began to feed him the bottle, instantly silencing him.

"Did Mama wake you up with her shouting?" Natsu said jokingly to Haru. He looked up to Lucy who had recovered from her fall and chuckled at her annoyed face. Before returning his attention to the baby, and smiling, "But I think we can forgive her."

"It was that damn cat's fault not mine! But at least he's settled now, it's amazing what a bottle of milk can do." Lucy said as she smiled down at the baby, gently caressing his cheek with the back of her finger. She turned her attention to Happy, "Speaking of food, did you get everything we needed at the market, Happy?"

"Sure did! I even found a stall that sold lots of fish, so I bought loads of that." Happy beamed. He took all the fish out that he'd bought to show Lucy, grinning from ear to ear.

"Wow, that's a lot of fish. I guess we're having that for dinner tonight, sound good Natsu?" She asked, as she busied herself in the kitchen.

"Sounds great! I'm starving!" He said, placing the 'milk drunk' baby back in his basket to finish the rest of his nap.

With their full bellies from dinner, all four of the inhabitants had fallen asleep in the living area, exhausted from the previous week. Natsu had been the first to wake, as the evening sun lit up the room and gave it an orangey hue. He blearily opened his eyes, getting them use to the dull light.

He could feel the warmth of his blonde partner up against him, there were little snores coming from the tiny, swaddled baby in the basket next to the couch, and the purrs of a little exceed asleep next to him. He let out a breath and smiled to himself. What a beautiful evening it was, he had his three most favourite people close to him and he couldn't have been happier.

Haru had been such a good boy for them whilst they had been busy doing up their house. He had appeared more alert than usual during the day, taking in what was around him. It was an absolute privilege to experience the world through the eyes of a baby, everything was so new and exciting. Natsu felt like a child again himself, he couldn't wait for Haru to start walking and talking. They were all going to have so much fun!

Lucy liked to take a more practical approach to parenting. She had read so many books on babies in the short time they'd had him, that Natsu was amazed by her dedication to educating herself. He was also quite impressed by his own ability to remember the snippets of information she would randomly chuck at him when reading. He knew more about babies now, then he did about himself, he was sure. He couldn't complain though, the information did come in handy at times and other times not so much.

He peered down at the celestial mage who was fast asleep on his chest, she'd let the last week catch up with her and now she was out for the count. She pushed herself to the limits when it came to being a mother, she was devoted for sure. She looked so radiant holding the tiny baby, when she cuddled him and kissed him, or when she spoke to him. There was this delicacy about her that she only reserved for Haru and Natsu had never seen anything so angelic before. She'd beam at the baby with the biggest grin on her face, a twinkle in her eyes as she sang him an old lullaby to soothe him to sleep or stroke his small tuft of hair and kiss him goodnight. She looked truly blissful with their baby in her arms, she had taken so well to being a mom, even with all the extra worry she carried.

Natsu carefully moved a few tendrils that had fallen into her face and smiled at her sleeping form. He thought back to the little kiss they'd shared, if you could really call it that. It seemed more of a gentle peck then anything else, but it was a start. She'd been the one to make the move this time, he needed her to go at her own pace, it was the safest way. As much as he'd wanted to just pull her in and claim ownership of her lips and mouth and any other place he so desired, her trust was more important. Their friendship meant everything to him and he wasn't about to risk that for some carnal impulse.

He frowned, the word friend didn't seem to fit right any more. She was his best friend and regardless of their relationship status, that would never change. It just felt like they were moving beyond the realms of friendship, although it seemed they had been more than friends for longer than both had actually realised. It'd been a slow, gradual change, but they still hadn't reached the next level. What even was the next level? Lovers he assumed. His heart started beating rapidly at the very thought, him and Lucy being lovers was something he'd wanted for long enough, and now he was sure Lucy wanted the same, so he supposed he was willing to wait just that bit longer for her, then there'd be no stopping him.

Snapping Natsu out of his thoughts, he heard a little whimper coming from the basket and leant over slightly to look at the tiny fella. Expecting him to be awake, but what Natsu saw melted his heart. Little Haru must have been dreaming about something good, because there was a small smile playing on his face. He remembered Lucy saying that babies couldn't smile until they were over a month old, and until then it was just practice, but it didn't look that way to him. Natsu couldn't stop his own smile from breaking out, his tiny baby was grinning in his sleep, practice or not, it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. And just like that it was gone, he kinda felt bad that Lucy had missed it but he was sure the infant would do it again, but maybe next time it would be a real one.

He sighed, he should probably get them all upstairs to bed, he was still tired himself and fancied snuggling with Lucy somewhere more comfortable. He was careful to stand as he managed to manoeuvre his way out of her hold, laying her back down onto the couch. Natsu picked Haru up in one hand, gently hushing him as he stirred and held Happy in the other before carrying them both upstairs, placing one in the crib at the bottom of their bed and the other in his hammock beside it.

He quietly made his way back downstairs to fetch Lucy, only to find she was sitting up, yawning sleepily. She looked a hot mess, her eyes were barely open, hair was all tangled from the position she'd been sleeping in and he was sure there was dribble down her chin. He had to try and contain his grin, she looked so funny.

"Where's the baby Natsu?" She spoke airily, desperately trying to keep her eyes open.

"He's in his crib. You look exhausted, maybe we should get to bed too." He said as he walked over to her and held out his hand. "Come on, we should try and get some sleep before Haru wakes up."

She nodded, rubbing at her sleep ridden eyes. She took his hand and followed him to the stairs. He felt a tug on his arm and looked back at her. She hadn't realised how unsteady she was on her feet and stumbled suddenly over her own foot, arms flailing, falling towards the floor again, but this time she never hit it. She could feel strong arms around her waist, holding her in place. Natsu turned her around and straightened her up, studying her face closely.

"Careful there, Lucy. I don't want you falling again and hurting yourself." He warned. It'd been one long week and they both needed to get to sleep.

"Now you mention it, my head is still hurting from earlier when I hit it." Natsu brought his arm up and clutched at the lump on her head, warming his hands a little, soothing the pain away and she sighed in relief. He was quick to sweep her off of her feet and turn back around. She squeaked as she was hoisted into the air. "What're you doing Natsu, I can walk!"

"Can you?" He chuckled, as he ran up the stairs and entered their bedroom, he placed her softly onto the bed, shrugging his clothes off and slipping in beside her.

"Night Natsu." She barely croaked out in her sleepy state. She was snuggled up to him in an instant, her breathing slowly evened out as she fell back to sleep.

"Night weirdo." He smiled at her, she really was such a weird one sometimes. But he was glad, it's what appealed to him about her in the first place.

It was still dark when she heard the little baby stir from his sleep. Lucy got herself up and walked over to the crib, looking down at the grumbling youngster. She smiled at him and picked him up, hoping he wouldn't start crying if she was quick enough. She looked over to Natsu who had remained asleep, which was unusual, he usually heard Haru stir before she did. She felt a little guilty about him always waking up first, she'd insist on taking it in turns with the night feeds, but sometimes, if she didn't wake, he'd leave her asleep and see to Haru himself.

Not wanting to disturb him this time, Lucy took Haru out of their bedroom and walked down to his. She changed his diaper before sitting down and feeding him his bottle.

"Take it easy little man, you'll make yourself sick!" She whispered.

He would always drink his milk too quickly, it was like he was starving all the time. Were they not giving him enough? He never cried when he finished the bottle, so that must be a good sign? Was it the powder they were feeding him? Maybe they should try something else and see if that would help? She could feel herself getting more and more worked up the longer she thought about it.

Trying to rid herself of such thoughts, she smiled at Haru, who was quietly enjoying his milk. Even in the darkness of the room, the moonlight would bounce off his wide eyes and make the beautiful blue even more dazzling. Lucy would often find herself looking into his cerulean hues, they were so bright and innocent, yet they'd witnessed so much already. Not that he would ever remember any of it, but he'd still lived through it and that was enough to want to keep him safe.

Lucy pulled the empty bottle from his mouth and placed it down beside her. As carefully as she could, she brought him up to lay on her chest so she could wind him and settle him back down to sleep. As he lay there, his chubby cheek resting firmly against her bare skin, right where her heart beat was, she lightly started tapping his back and began to sing a quiet tune to him to help him drift off.

"Baby mine, don't you cry…" She began, trying to keep her voice as low as possible, so she didn't disturb Natsu or Happy. "Baby mine, dry your eyes…"

It was an old lullaby her mother would sing to her as a child, it would always send her off to sleep, it was so soothing and calm and it seemed to have the same effect on Haru. She'd sung it to him a few times now and he would always fall asleep before the song finished. She continued to sing, memories of her own childhood playing out in her mind, the happy moments from when her mother was still alive.

"But your so precious to me, sweet as can be, baby of mine…" She finished.

Frowning, she realised the baby was still awake, and he hadn't yet passed any wind. She couldn't lay him down now, or he'd end up bringing it all back up. She held him out in front of her to make sure he wasn't in any distress, she couldn't see anything wrong, so why was he so wide awake?

And it was in that moment she found out the harsh truth. Within seconds, Haru retched and she was covered in baby vomit and it smelt rancid. She could feel bile gurgling in her own stomach as she tried to not breathe in the smell. It was everywhere! All down her front, in her cleavage, on her face, and probably in her hair too. Luckily, the baby didn't have a drop on him, he'd projected it all at her. She looked at him with horror all over her face, but managing to keep her cool. She wasn't angry at him or anything, just shocked by how much had come out of such a little person.

"Was mama's singing that bad, huh?" She tried to smile at him, but it was starting to congeal on her skin and it made her feel all sticky and gross.

"I wouldn't say it was bad, I liked it, but I couldn't say the same for that smell!" Natsu said as he appeared in the door way, nose covered with his scarf. "Whatcha doing in here?" He asked curiously. He was sure he put Haru to bed in their room last night.

"Natsu! I'm sorry I didn't mean to disturb you, I was trying to keep the noise down so you didn't wake up!" She gasped, not expecting him to be standing there. Her eyes locked on to his alluring half naked form. Wait! He'd just said he liked her singing, did that mean he'd been listening? "You heard my singing?! I thought you were sleeping? How long have you been standing there?"

"Not that long, I heard some of it as I woke up and then came to find you, although, with a smell that strong, it wasn't hard." He said, grinning at her, she looked pretty awful and was in need of a long shower. "Was he guzzling again?"

"Like always! It makes you wonder if we're feeding him properly. I've read so much on feeding newborns, but the information on bottle feeding is limited, nowhere really explains how best to do it. I guess It's not really the preferred method of feeding infants, but it's our only option." She blurted. The worry from earlier had still been playing on her mind and she'd just rambled it all out to Natsu.

"Hold up Lucy! Why don't you go have a shower first and we can talk about it once you're more comfortable?" He could see this was something that had been troubling her and if it helped by talking to him about it, then he would listen. He walked over to her and took the baby out of her arms and tucked him into his. His grin returned as he held his nose to emphasize his distaste, "And because you stink!"

Glowering at him, Lucy shoved the fire breather out of the way playfully, quickly making her way to the bathroom to take a shower. He chuckled as he watched her leave the bedroom. He heard a little gurgle coming from the small bundle and looked down. He didn't realise how bright eyed the infant was, he didn't look like he was going to be sleeping anytime soon. Usually, Haru would fall asleep as soon as he'd finished his milk, but Natsu imagined being sick was quite the unpleasant experience for the little guy, one the dragon slayer was all too familiar with.

"Puking isn't fun, is it? You know, daddy gets sick whenever he goes on anything that moves. I feel your pain, buddy!" Natsu said softly as he cuddled the little baby close to him.

He walked back into their own bedroom and sat on the bed with him, the early morning sun had slowly started to rise, it could be seen clearly from the bedroom window and was beginning to light up the room. He placed the baby down on his back, against the pillows and laid down on his side next to him. He watched as Haru's arms and legs jerked everywhere and his eyes were wide taking in his surroundings. It was fascinating to watch his two week old son make sense of the world.

"Are you feeling better now, Haru?" Natsu asked, leaning in closer so the infant could see him. "You're so lively this morning! Maybe mommy and daddy should take you to see everyone at the guild later? Would you like that?" His face dropped suddenly, as if remembering something he'd tried to put to the back of his mind.

Knowing he couldn't run from it forever. They would have to go to the guild anyway at some point. They were slowly running out of Jewels and as much as he didn't want to leave Haru to go on a job just yet, it was something that needed to be done. He'd have to find a way to bring it up with Lucy, he wasn't sure how she would take leaving the baby for the first time especially with everything else she seemed to have on her mind.

He knew the guild would take care of Haru while they were gone, that wasn't the issue. The problem was being separated while Haru was so young, he was still getting use to his new life with him and Lucy, it'd been over two weeks now and Natsu felt that just hadn't been long enough. He loved going on missions with Lucy and Happy and taking in Haru hadn't changed that, he just couldn't wait for the day where they could all go on adventures together.

Unfortunately, he had no elaborate plan this time to surprise Lucy with, he didn't have 'life time savings' or anything like that. Now he wished he did, it would've been super helpful with their current situation. He also knew Lucy wasn't any better, especially when she had all that rent to pay. It was funny to him considering her background, how bad she was with money, she never seemed to have any. He wondered if her finances would be better now that she didn't have bills to pay?

Natsu, not wanting to dwell on that topic any more, looked at the baby beside him and smiled. It would all be worth it really, when they had Haru to always come home to. He pulled the baby into his bare chest and placed his warmed hand onto his belly and gently moved it in circular motions to see if it would send the little one off to sleep. He looked down in amusement at the infant who was struggling to keep his eyes open. It was catching, as the fire mage felt his own eyes slowly shut and within seconds both had fallen asleep, father and son cuddled up to one another.

When Lucy entered the bedroom, her heart felt like it was going to explode. The way Natsu was cradling Haru reminded Lucy of how a dragon would protect it's treasure. The baby was snuggled in to his father's hold, arms splayed out next to his head, with Natsu curled around him. It was just adorable! He really was an amazing dad to their son, she couldn't have asked for more. After ogling for longer than she'd meant to, she quickly sorted herself out and slipped carefully into bed on the other side of Haru. Curling up to them both, she hoped she might get a few extra hours sleep.

"That smells better." She heard Natsu mumble, he opened his eyes to look at her. "Did you still want to talk, Luce? I'm all ears!"

"Well, I just can't seem to find any information on how to bottle feed correctly and whether we're doing it right." Lucy said quietly, matching Natsu's volume. She did feel better after a shower, but her worries were still prevalent. "Breastfeeding is the only thing that comes up. I know that it's better for babies and it helps with bonding, but it's not available to us, obviously."

"That's not really the problem though, is it?" He understood now. It wasn't really about the feeding or the bonding, they were just fragments of a much larger problem. One that had been slowly eating away at her over the past couple of weeks.

"No, I guess not. I've tried to ignore it and tell myself I'm just being silly, but it just doesn't go away. I want to be a good mom and do what's best for him, that's all." She whispered, looking down at the sleeping baby, no longer able to meet Natsu's intense gaze. It shocked her at how quickly he was able to read her, she was convinced he knew her better then she knew herself sometimes.

"Lucy, when Haru is old enough to understand, he's not going to care who brought him into the world or how you fed him." He moved closer to her and put his forehead against hers, Haru nicely wedged in between them. "When he looks at you, he's going to smile at the person that gave him the life he has. The woman that gave him a home, and a family, all because of one selfless decision to call him your own. He'll see his mom and that's the way it should be."

"Thanks Natsu, but you're forgetting one thing. One vital thing that shouldn't be ignored." She said smiling sweetly at him.

"And what's that?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"You. We're in this together remember? I don't tell you enough, but you really are the most incredible, doting father our son could've ever hoped to have. You're so protective and completely at ease with him, Haru really is a lucky little boy to be able to call you his daddy." She leant up and kissed Natsu's cheek, her smile never wavering, "Igneel would be so proud of you, Natsu." She moved back a little and placed her head back on the pillow and made herself comfortable, tiredness washing over her.

Natsu laid there for a moment just staring at her, he hadn't realised just how much he needed to hear her say that. It was so easy for him to just get on with day to day life, that he never took the time to think about his own feelings. Her words had brought on a wave of emotions he didn't even know were there, it'd made tears pool in his eyes and as he tried to blink them away, some dribbled down his cheeks. But he didn't mind, they were happy tears.

He couldn't stop himself from grinning, Lucy really was a beautiful person inside and out, she made him truly happy. He looked down at the slumbering infant between them, still snuggled up to his chest. Natsu smiled lovingly towards the little boy, Lucy was right, Igneel would have been proud of the life he'd made for himself. He wished, deep down that he could have met Haru, he would've been so happy for Natsu to have finally found a family of his own.

After a while of watching Haru sleep, he suddenly remembered what he needed to talk to Lucy about, maybe in this sort of mood she wouldn't take leaving the baby so badly. He tore his eyes away from Haru and looked back up to Lucy, about to call out her name when he realised she was fast asleep. He quirked his lips, and sighed. He guessed that was a conversation that would have to wait until later. Snuggling back down, he closed his eyes, allowing the sleep to finally take him. Hopefully, Haru would allow for a few more hours in bed

[mollymauk-teafleak]

that storm will break

Seregil is in a wonderful mood on a fine winter morning but Alec is still worried. 

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It felt like so long since a day had been this perfect.

The inn below their home was closed for the day, leaving them fending for themselves for lunch. Which, given how long they’d taken to get out of bed, had turned into breakfast. The day outside was bitterly cold and hard with frost but inside, everything was bathed in buttery lamplight and the fires roared. It was exactly where Alec wanted to be during a bitter Rhíminee winter day.

And, even better, Seregil was in a fine, high mood. Alec had woken up with his talí’s lips pressing lightly against his own, his hands pulling him close and the sound of his low laughter. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten how much he loved that sound. They’d tumbled together until the sun would have been high in the sky, could it have made it past the slate grey clouds, the smiles never leaving their faces.

Though Alec watched him carefully, Seregil was still grinning and joking, in his oversized sleep shirt and very little else. Apparently seized with some cheerful energy, he flitted around the kitchen while his talímenios cooked, sitting on the counter and swinging his legs one moment and slipping behind him to squeeze his hips the next, swiping eggs from his hands when he wasn’t looking and kissing the back of his neck. Alec laughed and joked along with him as if it were any normal day, while his eyes stayed as alert for any change as they’d been for signs of prey in the woods.

Eventually, he nudged him aside with his hip, smiling, “Unless you want me to burn myself on this pan, quit being a nuisance and go do something useful like slice up some bread. Even you can’t burn the kitchen down doing that.”

“That sounds like a challenge, my love,” Seregil grinned back, stealing one last kiss to his cheek before moving off to do as he was asked, if only because he was as hungry as Alec was and eager to get breakfast on the table.

As he set to carving thick slices off the loaf they’d bought yesterday, ready for the bacon currently crisping in the pan, Alec stole him another glance. He knew his lover being so bright and cheerful shouldn’t have made him suspicious but he couldn’t help it. Any sudden change in Seregil’s behaviour usually meant he was hiding some hurt that he wasn’t ready to share or had made some plan he knew his talí wouldn’t like.

But in the last few days, his hurt had been plain to see.

“We’re in good spirits today?” Alec ventured, keeping his tone light.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Seregil stopped singing the bawdy little ditty he’d been halfway through to answer him, “No jobs for Lord Seregil, the Rhíminee Cat or the Watchers. The whole place entirely to ourselves. Nothing to do but hide from the weather in the arms of my sweet Alec and ravage him in several of my favourite ways.”

Alec knew his cheeks were colouring, he didn’t need to glance at his reflection, “Of course. It’s just good to see, love.”

Seregil made a non committal noise and launched back into his song right from where he’d left off, doing a sprightly little two step in place as he did. Alec shook his head gently and turned back to their breakfast. Perhaps this was just how his love dealt with things like this. After all, this was new to both of them.

As soon as his tavern song ended, on a clever little turn of phrase involving a male body part and a trout, Seregil picked up into another, a sea shanty this time that Alec could remember him picking up from some sailors. Then a bright reel from a country dance, then something in Aurënfaie he must have known since he was a child, then an almost sickeningly sweet love ballad, putting on a humorous falsetto to properly sing as a damsel in distress. As he toasted bread and buttered it, piling up far more than they’d really need, Seregil ran through a repertoire that would have made any performer on the Street of Lights envious.

By the time he was setting the full plates down on the table, Alec had tears of laughter in his eyes and had forgotten any worry he’d ever had.

“Come on, now,” he rapped his talímenios lightly on the elbow with his spoon, “Your performance can continue after you’ve actually got some food into you.”

Seregil stuck his tongue out at him, though he kept singing as he carried his plate of toast to join the rest of the fine breakfast gathering on their dining table, plucking another song out of his head from the many he kept there.

“I gave my love a cherry

That had no stone.

I gave my love a chicken

That had no bone.

I told my love a story

That had no end.

I gave my love a baby

With no crying…”

Alec smiled, putting their dented tin tea service together on a tray. He remembered that song too, one of Seregil’s favourites. He liked the riddle aspect of it and the lilting melody, the playful joke of it all that unravelled over the course of a few simple verses. It was one he’d often hum without thinking as he worked.

He looked over at Seregil, still swaying lightly on the balls of his bare feet and singing as he swept up an old, chipped vase they kept on the counter and started filling it with flowers he plucked from the bush outside the window. Maybe Alec had been wrong to worry about him so much.

“How can there be a cherry

That has no stone?

And how can there be a chicken

That has no bone?

And how can there be a story

That has no end?

And how can there be a baby

With no-”

Alec had his back to Seregil so he didn’t see it happen but he jumped a mile as the vase shattered on the tile. When he whirled around, Seregil was standing in the middle of the kitchen, face tight and hands shaking delicately, still shaped in the air to hold the flowers that had tumbled to the floor and now lay in a spreading pool of water around his feet.

And Alec didn’t need to ask why.

The song was one of Seregil’s favourites. He’d sung it so many times, enough that Alec had learned the words simply by absorbing them, even though that particular lullaby had never made it up north. Seregil had sung it as he’d worked on locks, he’d hummed it as he’d dressed in the morning, he’d whistled it as he read, sprawled on the sofa. But no matter where he was or what he was doing, when he’d reached that part in the song, he had stopped. For the last twenty five years, he’d never finished the song.

Because the last verse belonged to their daughter.

At that point, whether it was from the next room over or from the other side of the garden where she was drawing back her bow or the opposite chair in the library, Adzri would take up the tune in her high, sweet voice. She’d answer the riddles, she’d twist the words into their clever little patterns, she’d answer her father’s questions. She was the love in the song, their song that they’d always sung together.

But their daughter wouldn’t be able to answer from halfway across the ocean.

“Oh Seregil…” Alec moved to hold him, carefully stepping around broken crockery.

“She’s been gone for weeks and I still...I still just expected her to join in…” his talí whispered faintly, eyes fixed on nothing.

Alec folded him into his arms and, for a terrifying moment he thought he’d be greeted by only the still, emotionless mask Seregil had been wearing since their daughter set sail, the careful nothingness that had been worse than any grief. But then finally he felt the slighter man mould to his embrace, returning it fiercely as he started to sob.

Alec knew his agony, of course, he was Adzri’s father too. As her fine ship had pulled away from Rhíminee into a fresh dawn, it had felt as if half of his heart were being pulled away with it. The daughter he’d loved and protected since before she was even born, the perfect answer to his prophecy, going off into the big wide world to conquer it as he’d always known she would.

They’d dreaded it since the day she’d proven to have every ounce of her father’s wanderlust and bravery, since she’d eagerly climbed trees to the topmost branches to see the world laid out before her, since she’d begged just one more story of their travels every bedtime, since she’d explored every inch of the vast city she called home. They’d known even such as Rhíminee couldn’t hold their Adzri for long. It was why they’d bought her the ship she was currently off exploring who knew where in, presenting it to her on the day she’d come of age. It was why they’d gathered maps and books on far off places for the last year. It was why they hadn’t been surprised when she’d come to them and asked their leave to take her little ship and it’s little crew and go see a new shore.

Though it didn’t make saying goodbye any easier. Particularly for Seregil, to whom Adzri had been a shadow since the day she was born.

“She won’t be gone forever,” Alec murmured, stroking Seregil’s hair, “And she promised to write to us, whenever she could.”

“I know,” Seregil’s voice caught miserably, “I know, I know it’s what’s best for her, I know it’s what she’s always wanted so why...why am I being such a fool about it all?”

“Talí…” Alec groaned, drawing back so he could hold Seregil’s sodden face in his hands and look him in the eye, “You’re not being a fool. You’re being a father.”

Seregil sniffed and sighed deeply, “I miss her.”

“So do I,” Alec returned softly, “And that’s alright. It’s really our job when you think about it. To miss our girl and worry about her terribly and wish she’d never even laid eyes on the damned ocean, all while being so happy for her.”

Seregil managed a laugh, if a wet one, his old crooked smile coming back, “I suppose it is...by the Four, the world isn’t ready for her, is it?”

Alec chuckled, wiping tear tracks from his lover’s face with a gentle thumb, “It was never going to be.”

“And she has one of the most promising magical students in a generation as her field wizard, after all. What could harm her?”

Seregil’s grin gew at that, in rueful acknowledgement. Alec didn’t think Thero was ever going to forgive them for the bond between their daughters and all it had gotten his girl into, the least of which was this tour around the neighbouring countries. At that, Thero had at least been grateful she’d get some further education out of it.

“Don’t ever let Adzri hear you say that,” Seregil smiled, leaning into Alec’s hand, “She’d go in a huff all over being perfectly capable of defending herself with her bow and sword.”

“Ah well, no one can pout quite like our little girl,” Alec raised an eyebrow, “Apart from her father, of course.”

Seregil pulled a face, grey eyes dropping to the poor flowers on the floor, “I have been...unhelpful since she left. I’m sorry, I...I know you don’t like it when I keep what’s in my heart to myself. I should have grown out of it by now.”

“Only because I want it to be less of a burden when you share it with me,” Alec murmured, leaning in and kissing his cheek, still tasting a little salt, “But you do, in your own time, and I can live with that.”

“I do adore you, talí…”

“And I adore you.”

Some of his old mischief returned to Seregil’s eyes as they found his lover’s again, the arms around him less a drowning man clinging to some anchor and now more purposeful, a hand slipping down to cup his ass, “You do make having an empty nest more bearable.”

Alec smirked, tapping his chest in admonishment, though inside he was heaving a long, hard won sigh of relief to see his talí’s more genuine smile, “Our breakfast is getting cold.”

“Fine, a refuel then,” Seregil hummed, showing him just a shade of that famous pout as he gave his backside a last squeeze and moved away to the table.

Alec joined him with a roll of his eyes, taking the seat beside him even though there were other options. And yes, the one empty chair across from them was a sad sight, but it was a bearable ache now.

“And who knows,” Seregil hummed, picking up his knife and fork as Alec took a deep drink of tea that he’d been gasping for since he’d woken up, “Maybe we could start looking at making our empty nest a little less empty?”

The way Seregil cackled as Alec choked on his tea and spluttered it across the entire table told him that his talímenios was back to his old self, for real.

And that their days would never be the same. But they could still be perfect.

[the-real-tc]

Fic UPDATE! Wide River to Cross: Homecoming

Author’s Note: So close. We're so close now, dear readers. Thanks for sticking with me this far; not much longer now. I promise. As you'll see from the events in this chapter, it will be impossible to prolong the agony. (Who remembers the actual agony while watching Season 7, wondering what had happened between Jack and Lisa? I remember that agony...) All that aside, the good part about how long this story has taken me is that plot lines that have occurred down the line can be worked in, and they can make some semblance of sense. I hope. Anyway, here's the latest chapter.

Chapter 22: Homecoming

In the darkness of night, the tree-lined drive seemed eerily foreign to Lisa as the town car bore both her and Rachel to their familial estate. Though it was a view she had seen thousands of times in her life, this particular return to Fairfield granted her no trace of comfort or sense of homecoming. It was bordering on close to ten months that she had been absent—one of the longest spells she had been away since her past marriage to Dan and subsequent move to the USA.

Lisa could not help but recall other lengthy absences from Fairfield, particularly in her adolescence when she had attended boarding school in France with Rachel. While she had enjoyed those times away—thanks to her love of French culture and many outings with her doting Aunt Evelyn—the inevitable homesickness was alleviated only upon return. Now, she felt like a stranger returning to a strange place, creeping in like some interloper.

Like a thief in the night, she thought to herself wryly, fighting the encroaching discomposure without much success.

“We’re here, Rach,” Lisa whispered, giving her younger sibling a gentle nudge.

“Huh? Oh, thanks,” Rachel mumbled sleepily. “I didn’t realise I nodded off.”

She smiled slightly, watching as Rachel rubbed bleary eyes before finishing off with a long yawn. Rachel had endured only one flight; Lisa had needed three to return to Alberta. Exhaustion was indeed beginning to overwhelm her, but there was a nervous tension buzzing through her veins, keeping her on an unusual level of alertness. Now that she was back in Hudson, the mere thought of being in the same town as Jack—and potentially encountering him anywhere—set her mind spinning. How would such a meeting play out? What words could pass her lips to express to him all that was in her heart? What words, if any, would he have to say to her?

Security lights illuminated the exteriors of the stables, dispelling the shadows. Night checks would have already been completed by this hour. All was quiet now, though Lisa knew Harry Wilkes would probably still be up in his office, burning the midnight oil while waiting for their arrival.

Good ol’ Harry, Lisa thought with affection. He had been such a constant presence in her life since she was a little girl, working his way up from the very bottom as a stable hand to head groomsman. Matthew Stillman had come to trust the man with just about everything, and Lisa had done the same. Harry was dedicated to the care of the horses in a way that went beyond what was expected of a mere hired hand. Anyone else would have retired from the position by now, but Harry was still logging the same hours as he had during the past forty-five years as a Fairfield employee. He had been there through the lean years and through the successful ones.

Without her realising it, a long pout pulled at Lisa’s face as the car pulled to a stop in front of the sprawling ranch house. She knew Harry was not thrilled with the idea of her selling Fairfield, even though he was guaranteed a handsome severance package. The rest of the staff might be keen on staying on with new owners; Harry would not—Lisa was certain of that.

“Why the long face?” Rachel asked, looking over at her. “Something wrong?”

“Hmm?” Lisa shook herself. “Oh, no. It’s just that... I-I don’t think Harry is pleased with my decision to sell, that’s all.”

“So Harry’s still working here, eh?” Rachel said, lips quirking into a lop-sided smile. “Dad really lucked out when he hired him. He’s been here since before I was even born. Good ol’ Harry.”

“I honestly don’t think I could have managed without him when Dad got sick,” Lisa mused out loud.

Sure enough, the door to the Fairfield business offices opened to reveal the man in question, silhouetted against the interior lights. He waved jauntily at them, and Lisa intuited he was intent on helping them unload their luggage.

“C’mon,” she said to Rachel as she opened her door. “Let’s get out before he gets the idea we’re going to let him carry everything into the house. He’s been up all night waiting; he’s got to be tired after working all day.”

“Right,” Rachel said in agreement, though she was staving off another yawn of exhaustion.

“Ah, the two prettiest girls in Hudson have made their triumphant return,” Harry greeted them affectionately; paternally.

“Oh, Harry,” Lisa said with a chagrined laugh, “I don’t know about ‘triumphant’, and after travelling all day, we look like something the cat dragged in.”

“Ha! Speak for yourself, sis,” Rachel interjected merrily. “Harry, flattery gets you everywhere. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Rachel.”

The three gathered for a warm group hug. As Lisa guessed moments earlier, the next words out of Harry’s mouth were an offer to bring their luggage inside.

“No, no, you take it easy Harry,” Lisa quickly stated. “You’ve had a long day, too. Rachel and I can manage just fine.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said, reaching for the largest of the pieces the chauffeur had just deposited from the trunk. “Your father would be horrified if he saw me standing by idly while you two dragged all this stuff by yourselves.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead in Hudson, I see,” Rachel quipped, following the older man with her carry-on and a smaller suitcase.

“Thanks, Harry,” Lisa said after everything was sitting in the spacious foyer.

“Happy to do it, Lisa,” Harry said. “Welcome home.”

“Yeah... for however long that’s going to be,” Lisa sighed.

“It’s going to be hard seeing this place go,” Harry uttered with a wistful air. “Fairfield has been a big part of Hudson ever since you made it the success it’s become, Lisa. This town won’t be the same without it—or you.”

Not unkindly, Lisa asked: “Is this your way of trying to talk me out of selling?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. I know an old fella like me who’s on his way to retirement can’t interfere with the business decisions of his boss, but you know this place has always been more than just a ’job’ for me.”

“I know,” Lisa said warmly, reaching out to touch his arm in a show of understanding. “And I thank you for everything you’ve done from the day my father hired you to this present time.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, placing a hand over hers for a few moments. “I should be on my way. See you in the morning.”

“Of course.”

Harry turned to make his exit, but hesitated on the threshold. “There is something...”

Lisa waited expectantly. “What is it?” she asked when he did not continue.

“Hmmph. Nah, it can wait ‘til tomorrow,” he muttered. “Goodnight, ladies.”

“’Bye,” Rachel said, trying to suppress another yawn.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Lisa said, closing the door behind him, slightly perturbed by the man’s cryptic parting words. Whatever it was, she would learn of it the next day.

--

As cranky as Jack was at the notion of having the woolly creatures on his land, Georgie’s 4H Club project meant sheep at Heartland was good for something. At least the kid could learn about the rearing of an animal she could handle. Lambs weren’t liable to trample you, gore you, buck you off, or kick you in the head. It was decidedly not fun chasing down the specific lamb Georgie and Olivia wanted, especially since they could not agree on which one was the best one for their needs. Jack half-suspected they were changing their fickle minds on purpose, just for the spectacle of his sprawling about in the grass and weeds, grabbing at this lamb or that lamb.  

It should have been Tim’s job seeing after the sheep, but he picked that very week to head to Moose Jaw to visit with his son, Shane, so they could spend Thanksgiving together. Why was it his ex-son-in-law continued to be such an irritant and an imposition in his life? If not for Lou and Amy, the man would never again have darkened the door at Heartland.

After Georgie and Olivia finally settled on a lamb and Jack successfully secured it, he decided a little break was necessary. It was no use getting worked up over the flock again; also, the girls did not need his grumpy mood to ruin things for them. It was trial enough for Georgie to be partnered with Olivia, he knew, so he did his best to keep his cool while in their company.

Once inside the kitchen, he brewed a cup of tea and eased into a chair in the living room—the kitchen having been taken over by Peter and his laptop. The man really needed office space of some kind while he was here, Jack mused.

Why Tim felt the need to saddle his son-in-law with the nickname “The General” was beyond Jack, but then again, Tim knew exactly how to push other people’s buttons. The recent fiasco involving Tricia and her near-delinquent daughter, Jade, at the fishing cabin was a fine example of that.  

Jack sipped at his tea, trying to resolve in his mind yet again why Tim possessed such an unbridled sense of entitlement. He lacked what Jack’s grandmother would have called social graces. His unsolicited comments could be tactless. The frustrating thing was that such comments were often uncomfortable truths no one else wanted to face or accept.

When Tim had first asked how the Arizona trip had been, Jack recalled initially telling him to mind his own business. Tim, ignoring Jack’s desire for privacy had asked, point-blank:

“You missed Lisa, didn’t you?”

”Didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?!” Jack had retorted. “I had a swell time.”

”You’re not fooling me, old man. What did you do with yourself down there the whole time? You couldn’t have been having that much of a ‘swell time’ because you cut it short and came home a week early!”

“I did happen to have some good times, thank you very much!”

“Yeah? Doing what?” Tim had challenged.

“Saddleback trip. Lookin’ at real estate. Meeting nice people. Camping and fishing.”

“Meeting nice people and fishing, eh? Catch anything good down there in Arizona?” Tim asked suggestively.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I hooked a very nice catfish.”

“Oooh! A catfish!” Tim had crooned, pretending to be impressed. “How big was it?”

Knowing he would not be able to lie any further, Jack had groaned in annoyance and decided it was time to cease this line of questioning. “Dunno,” he had sullenly replied. “It pulled free from the hook before I could reel it in. The sun was going down by then. I quit trying after that.”

“Ha!” Tim had laughed triumphantly. “Dinner out of a can that night, right?”

Jack grit his teeth. “No, I forgot to bring a can opener. Are you done, now?”

“You ‘forgot’ to bring a can opener?” Tim crowed in derision. “So why didn’t you just use your knife to open the can, or did you forget to bring a knife, too?”

“Oh, would you just shut up already!”

Jack stalked off and was thus out of earshot when a gleeful, self-righteous Tim muttered, “Ohhh, he totally missed Lisa.”

--

It was already after 10:00 a.m. when Lisa awoke on Saturday morning. The inevitable jet-lag felt especially pronounced this time around, and she groaned when she realised the lateness of the hour. She so wanted to soak up a few more hours of sleep, but knew work was waiting. There was the matter Harry mentioned the night before which she wanted to get to the bottom of, but the first order of business absolutely had to be contacting the real estate agent.

After a quick shower, she shared a hurried breakfast with Rachel. Her sister was still drowsy and not much in the mood to talk while they ate. When Rachel drifted back to bed for a nap, Lisa finally got on the phone to the realtor, glad they were indeed open that day despite it being a holiday long weekend. After all those months in France of dithering on this, it felt almost anti-climactic the sale would finally be happening. The deed is done, Lisa thought after hanging up. She was not sure what emotions she was experiencing now that Fairfield would officially be on the market.

Ruefully, she thought, I really should call Dan and tell him the ‘good’ news. In all truth, her ex-husband was the last person she wanted to speak to after all their less-than-pleasant email correspondences over the past several months. I wonder what Jack would think if I called him and told him I was back in Hudson? Lisa stopped herself cold. Where did that thought come from?! I would have to explain to him that I’m finally selling the old place and moving to France for good, wouldn’t I? I’d have to come up with some excuse as to why I didn’t even tell him I was coming back.

She stood from behind her desk and decided it was time to check in on Harry, brushing aside any further thoughts of both of her exes.

“Ah, Lisa! Good morning,” Harry greeted Lisa brightly when she knocked on the business office door.

“Good morning, Harry. I just got off the phone with the real estate people. Someone’s going to be by later this week to properly assess the property and get some signs posted and such.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod of understanding.

“Harry, about that thing you mentioned last night...”

“Oh, yes. That,” Harry said, lowering his voice.

Lisa caught his tone, and interpreted he was about to tell her something she would not particularly enjoy hearing. “Well, what is it?”

“It’s Dan,” Harry said in a manner that spoke volumes of disapproval.

“Dan? What’s he done now?” Lisa asked guardedly.

“You’d better follow me,” Harry said, rising from his seat.

He led Lisa out to the stables where they stopped in front of Fairfield Flyer’s stall. The champion racer seemed strong and healthy, and Lisa looked at her head groomsman, awaiting an explanation.

“Dan and some of his people and vets have been here to see Flyer and Rhapsody quite a few times while you were gone,” Harry started. “Since you have joint ownership, of course I couldn’t stop him.”

“Stop him from doing what?” Lisa asked, instantly on edge. Rhapsody was one of her broodmares.

“From getting all kinds of lab work done—and cell samples taken from Flyer.”

“Cell samples...” Lisa mused out loud.

Harry continued. “Rhapsody is already nine months pregnant. You had no idea, did you?” he asked warily as he studied her reaction. “Don’t answer that. Your expression tells me all I need to know.”

Lisa felt her cheeks flush. “I always did have a lousy poker face,” she grumbled.

“Ah, I should have known he didn’t tell you, but you know I’m not the type to interfere,” a contrite Harry said. “And given the nature of what he was doing, I wasn’t sure if you were both keeping it a secret, or what. Sorry, Lisa.”

“Don’t apologize; this isn’t remotely your fault. It seems I have a call to make to my ‘business partner’. Thanks, Harry.”

She strode out of the stables, absolutely steaming, trying to decide how best to have this conversation with Dan. Cell samples? That could only mean one thing, Lisa concluded, coupled with Dan’s recent talk about getting into horse cloning. He was trying to warm me up to the idea, she now realised.

“Where do you get off cloning Fairfield Flyer without even consulting with me first?!” Lisa exploded when she had Dan on the line.

“Now hold on just a minute, Lisa—” Dan tried to interrupt.

“No, you hold on; I’m not finished,” Lisa hissed through clenched teeth. “Harry told me you’ve been out to Fairfield to see Flyer and Rhapsody. This is the real reason you’ve been so demanding about the finances, isn’t it? You weren’t concerned about the Avignon facility—you were paying to have Flyer cloned. How many other horses did you have lined up for the procedure?”

From Dan’s silence, Lisa knew she had hit the nail on the head.

“When were you going to tell me?” Lisa fumed. “When were you going to tell me the Avignon deal was all a sham and that you were really using my investment funds to clone Flyer and God knows how many others?”

“Okay, simmer down,” Dan said, trying to placate her. “Avignon is still a go. But the focus has shifted slightly. It could be the best equine cloning facility in Europe, Lisa. If the clone of Flyer is a success, we’re going to take it to Avignon as the poster boy for the procedure in race horses. We’d be one of the first out of the gate doing this. We could make history, Lisa, because the Racing Association is bound to come around once more people get on board.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Lisa had to keep herself from shouting. “You go behind my back, and-and then try to tell me you’re shifting the focus of the breeding facility we planned in France?”

“All that stuff you learned in that Lexington conference about performance markers is great, Lisa,” Dan said, “but that’s yesterday’s science. Cloning is the future. Do you really want to be left behind?”

Lisa realised she was still too angry to have a rational talk with Dan. “Let’s table that question,” she finally said. “I just got into Hudson late last night, and I’m too tired to deal with this right now. But make no mistake, Dan, I’m not impressed you went behind my back.”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Dan said, sounding almost relieved. “Hang on, did you just say you’re back in Hudson?”

Lisa clenched her teeth in irritation. “How else do you think I found out about Flyer?”

“Uhhh—Harry told you, didn’t he?”

“Of course Harry told me,” snapped Lisa, relishing the discomfort she heard in Dan’s voice. He sounded as if he were a guilty schoolboy.

“I see,” Dan said in resignation. “Wait, if you’re in Hudson, does that mean you’ve finally put Fairfield on the market?”

“Yes, Dan, you’ll be happy to know I took care of that chore before calling you,” Lisa replied testily.

“Good! That’s great!” Dan exclaimed. “Finally. Look, Lisa, I get you’re upset about the cloning thing. You’re right; I should have included you in that decision. But Flyer is mine, too. I think in time, you’ll see—”

“Ah, but Rhapsody is mine,” Lisa cut in. “You’re still on shaky ground, Dan. As I said just now, we’ll discuss this later. You’ll be lucky if I don’t decide to involve my lawyer with this one.”

She heard his exhalation of discontent, but she frankly did not care. Misappropriation of funds, she thought. Yeah, that has a nice ring to it.

“Come on, Lisa. Are you really going to split hairs like that?” he whined. “Aren’t we business partners in this whole breeding venture?”

It took all the control she could muster not to slam down the phone. Instead, she took a steadying breath before responding. “That didn’t give you the right to use Rhapsody for your cloning experiment without consulting with me first. But what’s done is done. Like I said, I’m not in the mood to discuss this right now. Goodbye.”

Lisa did not wait to hear Dan respond before she hung up the call.

Rachel, having awakened from her nap, was sitting at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, flipping through an old edition of the Hudson Times. When Lisa wandered in, Rachel glanced up and said, “Uh-oh. I know that look. Something’s got you mad.”

Lisa groaned. “Ugh. What tipped you off?”

Rachel smirked. “Yeah, see, there’s this vein that always pops out on your forehead whenever you blow a gasket,” she answered, motioning to her own head.

Grumbling, Lisa swiped a self-conscious hand over her face.

“Hey, it’s not like you get mad often, sis,” Rachel said, trying to lighten the mood. “It must be something big.”

Lisa plopped down wearily across from Rachel. “It’s Dan,” she began. “He’s gone and tried to clone one of my best racers—Fairfield Flyer—without even asking me, first.”

“Oh, wow. Is that even legal?” Rachel asked, folding the paper and putting it aside. “I’m not up on my horse cloning ethics.”

“It is legal,” Lisa said, “but it’s damned expensive, comes with a pile of risk factors, and the Racing Association has yet to accept clones in sanctioned races.”

“Didn’t I read something a couple years ago about clones being accepted for show jumping in the Olympics?” asked Rachel.

Lisa nodded. “Yes. The Fédération Equestre Internationale did announce clones could be entered for equestrian events. I still don’t know what Dan was thinking, though. Flyer is a racer, not a jumper, or dressage. It’s infuriating. And it’s not even about the ethics when it comes to cloning; it’s that Dan was hounding me for months to get Fairfield sold so we could get going on an operation out of Avignon.”

“Avignon?” repeated Rachel.

“Yes. You know I always wanted to retire to France, eventually.”

“Right...”

“Anyway,” Lisa continued, “I sold my share of the Dude Ranch back to Lou, and assumed those funds were going towards funding that Avignon operation. Obviously, Dan was funnelling all of it to help make the payments for the cloning procedure.” She let out another huff of frustration; Rachel eyed her with pity.

“C’mon, Lisa,” Rachel said after several moments of silence. “In the end, a horse is a horse, and we both know you love horses. When Rhapsody foals, you’re going to love that clone. So forget Dan, and focus on making sure Rhapsody stays healthy through the rest of the pregnancy.”

The words were like a thunderbolt, bringing a much-needed dose of reality. Lisa stared at Rachel for a few moments, speechless. “Are you sure you’re the younger sister, here?” she eventually asked with an affectionate smile and shake of her head. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“Oh, I have my moments,” Rachel answered airily.

“Well, I hope there’s more wisdom where that came from,” Lisa said, “because even though you’re right about loving it when it arrives, I get the feeling that clone is going to become more like a monkey on my back.”

--

Thanksgiving at Heartland was slightly less crowded than usual owing to the absences of Tim and Lou. Everyone was thankful for Jack’s surviving the heart attack and for Amy’s health and recovery after her recent scare with Zeus; Georgie was thankful in particular for her new family and for Phoenix.

At Fairfield, the celebration was slightly more subdued. Figuring this to be their final Thanksgiving together before the family farm passed into new hands, the Stillman sisters spent much of that holiday Monday* reminiscing about older, happier times, and some not-so-happy times, too.

“I used to love it when Aunt Evelyn would come to visit from wherever she had last been,” Lisa remarked as they sat together in the cozy living room, a roaring fire burning in the hearth.

“Remember her second husband?” Rachel snickered.

“Ah, yes. Uncle Merrill,” Lisa said. “With those massive sideburns we always wished he would shave off.”

“Where did she meet him, again?”

“Wales, I think,” Lisa replied. “But he was from Scotland.”

“He claimed he was some Scottish lord, right?” asked Rachel. “I seem to remember that.”

Lisa nodded seriously. “He apparently had the bank account to prove it, or so Aunt Evelyn told me.”

“Well, she was married to him the longest,” Rachel said.

“That’s true,” Lisa said, taking a sip of cider.

“Until he left her for a newer, younger model,” Rachel said.

“And she took him to the cleaners,” chortled Lisa. “Then promptly found herself another millionaire boyfriend.”

“That one didn’t last very long, did it?”

“Oh, a couple years, maybe? Then she had a few other gentlemen friends whose names I forget. Then she married Charles, the wealthy stockbroker from New York. They met on a cruise ship. Divorced him after five years.”

“Aunt Evelyn is addicted to men and to money,” Rachel said. “And I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“Rachel, there is no nice way to call someone a gold digger,” Lisa said, a peal of laughter breaking forth.

“Ha! You said it; not me!”

“All right, Aunt Evelyn may have her... flaws... but she’s always been good to us,” Lisa said sincerely.

“Yeah... you’re right,” Rachel said. “Though you’re her favourite, you know.”

Lisa cocked her head and frowned at her sister, puzzled by this comment. “Naw. She totally spoiled us both. What d’you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing.” Rachel waved a hand dismissively. “I just got the feeling like she doted on you a little more. That’s all.”

“What? Why?”

Rachel stared at her older sister, considering for a few moments how to proceed. She blew out a breath and said, “Okay, remember that horse you had when we were kids? Silver?”

“Yes,” Lisa said, thinking of the dapple grey mare she got as a rescue. She put aside her mug, sensing Rachel was about to say something she had been wanting to say for a long time, but never had the chance to get it off her chest.

“I remember when Silver got sick a few years later,” Rachel said. “Dad didn’t think he could afford to pay for the surgery.”

“That’s right,” Lisa confirmed. “It was colic. Silver was getting old by that point, so Dad didn’t think the risk was worth it.”

“You know, I didn’t even have my own horse at the time, and Aunt Evelyn swooped in and said she’d pay for the surgery,” Rachel said, voice tainted with the slightest stain of bitterness. “You were seven when you got Silver. I remember, because I thought somehow that’s what I would get when I turned seven, too. Funny, isn’t it? We lived on a horse-breeding farm, and I didn’t get my own horse until I was ten.”

“Rachel, it’s a stupid question... did you even really want your own horse?” Lisa asked carefully.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Of course I wanted my own horse,” she said. “What little girl living in Hudson didn’t ‘want’ her own horse?”

“I know, but ‘wanting’ a horse isn’t the same as loving that horse when you finally get it, is it?”

Lisa thought back to when Rachel did receive her own horse the Christmas after she turned ten, a gift from Evelyn. In the beginning, the girl had been ecstatic, but the excitement had waned, and the horse was sometimes neglected.

“No, it isn’t the same thing,” admitted Rachel. “Look, I don’t mean to sound petty. At the time, I was jealous; I admit it. When I was younger, I thought Aunt Evelyn paying for Silver’s surgery when I didn’t even have my own horse meant she loved you more and was ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry, Rach,” Lisa said sincerely. “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“Like I said, I felt that way when I was younger. I thought having a horse would make me happy the way it seemed to make you happy; like it made other girls around town happy,” Rachel said. “It wasn’t until later I realised I wasn’t actually a horse-crazy girl like everyone else.”

“No, you were more boy-crazy,” Lisa said, a small smile twitching her lips.

“Ohhh, was I ever,” Rachel said, throwing back her head and casting her eyes to the ceiling.

“Do you ever regret leaving home when you did?” Lisa queried. “I mean, do you ever wish you had waited until you were a little more settled? Aunt Evelyn was willing to pay for your post-secondary education anywhere in the world like she did for me, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. And I keep saying that the timing was probably wrong,” Rachel said. “But I always come back to Ben. He’s the reason I don’t have regrets about that. I love my son more than my own life, Lisa. If I do regret anything is that his childhood probably wasn’t as happy as it could have been because of my stupid relationship mistakes.”

“Well, from what I can see, he’s grown into a fine young man, Rachel,” Lisa said, thinking of the rough patch Ben went through during Rachel’s train wreck of a divorce. “He’s learned some valuable life lessons and he’s working hard now to achieve his goals.”

“I admit I’m proud of him,” Rachel said with a smile. “I’m sorry again for dumping him on you—”

“Oh, stop!” Lisa put up a hand. “We’ve been over this a hundred times. Even though I could have done a better job when he was here, it made me realise raising a child isn’t a cakewalk.”

“No, but it is worth it,” Rachel said. “I look at Ben, and I think at least I did something right in the world.”

“Yeah...” Lisa said softly.

“He did appreciate his time here, Lisa,” Rachel said, getting an inkling of where Lisa’s thoughts might have carried her at that moment.

“I hope so,” Lisa uttered. “Though somehow, I think I acted a little more like Aunt Evelyn: dropping expensive gifts instead of making any meaningful impact on his life that would actually matter.”

“I don’t see it that way at all,” Rachel countered. “You give from the heart, Lisa. You’ve always been the generous type. And with Fairfield’s success came bigger ways to show that generosity. To be honest, I was a bit jealous of your giving nature, too.”

“And if I’m going to be honest, I was a bit jealous of you,” Lisa said seriously.

“Of me?” Rachel said, clearly shocked. “Whatever for?”

“You left home. Had a child. You... didn’t have the weight of responsibility for Fairfield that I had,” Lisa admitted. “I have loved building up the business into the success it is today, but I also thought kids would naturally come along when I was married to Dan. When that didn’t happen, I thought about you and how easy it seemed for you.”

“It wasn’t easy at all, especially when Gary walked out on us,” stated Rachel emphatically. “And I thought I’d have more kids too, when the ex-who-shall-not-be-named came into the picture and seemed like he’d be a great step-father to Ben. We all know how that turned out.”

Lisa bobbed her head slowly, knowing no further words were needed on the subject of the breakup of Rachel’s marriage.

At length, Rachel murmured: “I’m glad I came out here one last time. There was a time I couldn’t wait to leave; relieved you were the older daughter that Dad would look to for running the business. I don’t think I’ve ever truly appreciated how much of a burden you’ve shouldered.”

“We’ve both had our burdens and hardships,” Lisa said, looking at the glowing embers in the fireplace.

“I mean it, Lisa,” Rachel insisted. “Thank you for being there for Dad, and for running Fairfield all these years. It’s just a shame he didn’t live long enough to see the success it’s become.”

“A success that’s now coming to a close,” Lisa said quietly. “When I pick up stakes and move to Avignon, it’s going to be a whole new business.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Rachel commented. “You haven’t heard from Jack. You said it yourself that it’s time to make a fresh start.”

“I know,” Lisa said. “And you’re right. But being here in Hudson, well, it’s brought back a lot of memories with him. Good memories. It hurts to finally realise that there won’t be any more of those.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a fine French gentleman in Avignon,” Rachel said with a mirthful chuckle.

“Oh, no! The last thing I need is to turn into Aunt Evelyn,” Lisa scoffed, chagrined at her sister’s comment. Her thoughts suddenly took her to Toulon and the foul experience she had with Alphonse. It struck her his marriage to the young Audrey had come and gone that spring, and their baby was probably due any time. I sure dodged a bullet with that one, she decided, even if my “friends” thought we would make a good match.

“You could never be like Aunt Evelyn,” Rachel said. “You’re not a gold-digger, and the money you’ve made came through hard work. And the money doesn’t really matter to you, either, does it?”

“I won’t lie,” Lisa replied. “The money matters, because I got to do things and go places I always dreamed of doing and seeing when I was a kid. But what’s money if you don’t have people you love to share it with?”

Rachel looked at her sister with sympathy. “You really did love him, didn’t you?”

Lisa returned Rachel’s glance. “With every fiber of my being. My whole world stopped when Lou told me about his heart attack. Nothing mattered after nearly losing him like that. I just wish I had the chance to tell him so.”

“Look, it’s not my place to tell you what to do or what not to do, Lis,” Rachel said. “But you’re here in Hudson now, and he’s here. This could be your last chance to tell him.”

A slight shiver ran down Lisa’s spine at the notion of facing Jack and baring her heart as she had tried so many months ago, when she made the horrible mistake of renting the hospital bed for him. “I already squandered that ‘last chance’, Rach,” Lisa said sadly. “It’ll take a miracle to convince Jack to see me again. I blew it, and now I’m paying the price.”

--

Thanksgiving dishes were washed and put away; night checks on the horses were finished; everyone was tucked away in bed. Jack, however, lingered by himself in the living room before the fire, sipping on a hot toddy. There was indeed much to be thankful for, he knew, particularly when it came to his own life. There’s much to regret, too, he thought, watching as the flames licked at the seasoned logs. While life moved on, his heart still pined for her. He was still stuck in a place of uncertainty and inaction; of wanting to reach out and of pulling back again. It’s been ten months. Lisa has moved on, surely. It would be wrong of me to call her now, after all that’s gone on between us, and mess up whatever it is she has going. I should be thankful we had whatever it is we had and let her go. With that, Jack pulled himself up from the couch, doused the fire, and crept into his bedroom. As he closed his eyes, his last thought before falling asleep was that given his angry parting words with Lisa, spoken in the heat of the moment, he was undeserving of a second chance with her. Nothing will ever bring us back together; that’s a bridge too far.

--

*To my non-Canadian readers: Thanksgiving in Canada is celebrated on the 2nd Monday of October.

TBC

[psycheswritings]

Finally - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Title: Finally

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing (as always) and my bad writing. I think that's it.

Word Count: 1493 (someone stop me, please)

Author's Note: A lovely anon asked me to do something with the prompts 45 and 51 from the kiss prompt list and you can be sure that I'm gonna hella deliver. This is kind of a sequel to "Caught", so I suggest you to read it first.

(Y/N) = Your Name

Prompts form this list:

45. Passionate kiss

51. Public kiss

“Bloody hell, of course you would say something like that to him.” Michael was stretched on the couch opposite from her chair, a cigarette dangling from one of his hands, looking at her as she heard the story of how her and Tommy had been caught by John and Arthur.

“Well, did he?” She took a sip of her whiskey and he looked at her a little confused. “Did he told you something about us?”

“No. Not yet, at least, but he haven’t had many chances.” (Y/N) just murmured a ‘hum’ under her breath, looking outside through the window. Michael noticed the subtle distress in her demeanor and sat up straight. “When are you two going to go public?”

“We never really talked about it.” She paused for a moment, lowering her eyes to observe the drink on her hands, a finger tracing the rim of the glass. “I know he is afraid to because of how it may affect his political career and everything.”

“Tommy Shelby afraid of what people think about his life?” Michael leaned back on the couch, scoffing as he took a drag from the cigarette. “That’s new for me.”

“He is not all wrong you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at me, Michael. I’m not exactly the role model for a politician’s…” She trailed off and the young accountant noticed the panic crossing through her eyes.

“Wife.” (Y/N) frowned at the word. Damn, she wasn’t even sure what they were.

“Whatever. I’m younger, always in confront with social conventions, partaking in protests about women's rights, working as a lawyer and living alone in London…”

“Shaming rich old men in gala dinners.” He smiled, mocking her, and she just rolled her eyes.

“You got my point. I’m not some rich posh girl who will be all smiles and pleasantries while hanging on the arm of a man. I’m not…” Grace, she wanted to say. I’m not Grace. But the words got stuck on her throat, making her sigh. “And, for fucks sake, I’m sounding ridiculous like a fifteen years old girl with a crush.” Michael smiled at the scene - he never had seen her like that. Not even when they were, in fact, fifteen in the country and one of the boys from school had tried to ask her out.

“You are in love, it’s kinda expected.”

“Not from me. I promised myself that I would never let love get in the way of my plans. That I would never let a man change who I am.”  She was exasperated, he could see that by the way she downed the rest of her whiskey, sinking into the chair.

“You know that you can be both a successful woman and a good wife at the same time, don’t you?” That was that word again. She looked up at him, there was a smile on his face when he spoke. “Tommy fell for you exactly for all these reasons you think make yourself unsuited for him. I think I know my cousin well enough to say that he doesn’t need a… what did you call it? Posh girl hanging from his arm. He need someone who knows how to protect themselves, how to hold their ground. With business in the company and politics, none of these woman that you think are a better fit for him would last a year.”

(Y/N) said nothing, she didn’t had nothing to say after hearing him. She always thought off marriage as just one more way to be owned by a man, another way to have her dreams of being a successful lawyer going down the drain. She never thought of it as a partnership, as a way that both people could grow together, helping each other, like he was describing.

“Come on, you’re thinking too much. Let’s go to the Garrison, have some drinks, let the boys cheer you up.” He got up, putting his cigarette out on the ashtray and approaching her, standing a hand for her to catch. She took his hand, letting him guide her through the room, help her with her coat and leading her outside.

They had been on the pub for a while when Tommy arrived and her eyes instantly felt draw to him. She and Michael were sitting at one of the tables with the rest of the Shelby clan, some of the Blinders around them, everyone laughing and drinking. (Y/N)’s mood had lightened up a little after she let herself be distracted by the boys, like Michael had said, but seeing him just made all her insecurities wash over her again. Somebody approached him before he could take another step towards them.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Michael didn’t waited for an answer, he just pulled her from her seat and dragged her to the dance floor. He wasn’t a terrible dancer and by now (Y/N) was more than used to dancing with him. What she was not used to was being interrupted by Tommy putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder and asking him if he could steal her away. Her best friend nodded at his cousin, letting him pull her closer, smiling like the cat who got the cream.

“What’s gotten into you?” She asked as he twirled her around and sprawled his hand on the low of her back when pulling her to him. Taking a look around (Y/N) noticed that most people on the pub were looking at them. She kinda expected that, granted that she was dancing with the leader of the Peaky Blinders who never danced with anyone. He didn’t answer her right away, just swaying with her at the ritm of the music and when he did he wasn’t looking into her eyes.

“I heard something interesting today.”

“Really? What was it?”

“About what kind of woman is better suited to be a politician’s wife.” (Y/N) was sure that if he hadn’t been leading her around the dance floor she would have stopped dead on her tracks. He couldn’t have heard her conversation with Michael, could he. “Apparently, they are just decorative.” He looked at her then, piercing blue eyes urging her to hold his stare.

“Aren’t they?” It was kinda of her thing to be able to argue even when in disadvantage, she was a lawyer, after all.

“Well, mine for sure won’t be.” Her mind was having a battle with her heart right now and she was really trying to think rationally but it seemed almost impossible. “You know, when I first met you the first thing that crossed my mind was how much I wanted to have you. Because you were this pretty little thing that looked all innocent at first sight but you put a bunch of old men in their places when they tried to outsmart you and that was… enticing and I just had to have you, I had to know what you were hiding underneath that cold facade. Then Michael recognized you as his best friend and you got closer to the family, I realized that you were so young and had all your life ahead and that you didn’t needed to get yourself tainted by me.”

She was surprised by his sudden confession - Tommy wasn’t a man used to let people know how he felt about things, even his family had to read between the lines to try and figure it out. Now, it seemed like he was really invested in having a heart to heart with her. In the middle of his pub, of all places.

“You were having none of that, though. I really tried to pull it away like it was just sex, nothing more, but I failed miserably and it seems like I failed to let you know that too. But we’re changing that now.” He stopped dancing, still holding her close, and looked at her for a moment before crashing his lips into hers. Her body responded to him before she could register anything - like the fact that they were in a very public place with all of his family a few meters away from them. In a very Tommy fashion he didn’t shy away from any of this factors and lose no time in tangling his fingers in her hair and deepening the kiss.

It took a moment for (Y/N) to register the cheering of the people around them but it didn’t matter for her anymore. All she could think about was him, all she could feel was him and she almost protested when he parted from her, a smirk on his face when he touched her forehead with his, making her smile. He guided her back to the table his family was in, all of them with smiles on their faces, Arthur and John teasing them about the kiss but it was Michael who said what all of them wanted to for a long time.

“Finally.”

[digitalworldbound]

miyako and hikari (platonic) for 133?

Number 133: “Slushies aren’t just for kids. Fuck society!”

Characters: Miyako & Hikari. Finally, one of my 02 babies! This is set while the girls are maybe around 15 and 16.

I wrote this in first person as Hikari, just to give it a more casual, carefree feel! I hope you enjoy these teenager-y, summer vibes. The ending kind of sucks, but please ignore it. (Minor swearing) 

Send me a prompt! 

As a certified teenager, it’s safe to assume that I love summer. Why wouldn’t I? It’s the time of the year when you can pretty much do whatever you like. Summer is the grand time where the months-long prep and countdown for family vacations actually come in fruition.

But there’s danger that lurks during summer. It’s the trap of monotony where sleeping late, waking up at noon, watching endless TV, and playing video games for hours become a routine. Well, not if you are friends with Miyako.

Despite chatting with friends into the wee hours of the morning, the girl is an early riser. She’s the “get up and go” type, only grabbing a banana for breakfast as she sprints out the front door. Afterall, an object in motion in stays in motion.

It was the first Saturday of summer vacation when she barged into my room, a flurry of purple hair and lipgloss. “Hika!” she screeched. Miyako was one of the only people that called me by a nickname, and never failed to abuse this privilege. “What are you still doing in bed? If you want to go scope out hot guys on the beach with me, you have to get up. We’re burning daylight!”

I didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know that it was inhumanly early. The coffee machine in the kitchen was silent, and the sound of my brother snoring permeated the apartment. Somehow, I managed to pull myself away from the warmth of a slept-in comforter, yawning all the while. Before my feet hit the floor, Miyako was rummaging through my wardrobe, clicking her tongue in disapproval at my large collection of borrowed basketball t-shirts. “Hmm, where do all these come from, I wonder?” she asked pointedly. She laughed airily, flashing me a wink.

“Ha, ha, Miya, very funny. You know me and him are just friends,” I offered, attempting to stretch the sleep out of my joints. She shook her head in disapproval, purple ponytail swinging behind her.

A note about Miyako: she fancies herself a matchmaker, and believed I was her perfect target.

For years, she has tried everything to pair me up with my best friend. A few summers ago, she locked us both in the hall closet, smushing us between the extra linens and a scratchy, wool blanket. Takeru and I are pretty close, so we weren’t particularly bothered by our close proximity. We might have been able to enjoy our time together had Miyako not forgotten about us. It wasn’t until my brother came home from soccer practice that someone heard our desperate pleas for freedom. Ever since then, she has stayed out of it.

With a hum of approval, she tossed a sundress in my direction.  I barely had time to catch the flimsy, yellow fabric before she barked out another order. “Go to the bathroom and put that on, we need to hurry.”

Another note about Miyako: Never argue with her when she gets in one of her Moods.

My socked feet padded their way silently to the bathroom, pausing only to check the time displayed in the hall: 7:45 in the morning. Changing quickly, I slipped the sundress over last season’s bathing suit, adjusting the straps as the material settled around my hips. Miyako, being a full year older than me, had taken puberty gracefully, filling out gradually and evenly. My body, it seemed, had other plans. The hips seemed to be its first priority, leaving the top of my dress little to fill itself out.

I made my way back towards my room, careful to avoid any creaky floorboards. Miyako sat atop my bed, flicking through a stray magazine. She hadn’t noticed my arrival, and I took my few extra moments of silence to study her.

This past semester, she had shot up several inches, giving her legs the slender look of a model. Her cut-off shorts only emphasized this fact. Her Hawaiian-esque button down should have been tacky, but she left the buttons undone, showing off her camisole underneath. A bathing suit top poked out from underneath it, accentuated her new curves. Compared to her, I felt like a little girl playing dress up.

While I struggled to coax the tangles out of my horrendous bedhead, Miyako gave me the rundown of the day. “Okay, so I was thinking we hit up Starbucks first. They have some new fruity lemonade that I’ve been dying to try, and I’m also kind of hungry.” As if to punctuate her statement, my own stomach growled, and I grinned sheepishly up at her. “Make that two of us,” I laughed.

She rambled on about sunbathing and beach volleyball, the metallic jingle of her bracelets accentuating every point. Miyako talked with her hands, making gestures large and small as if it would help the listener understand her better. Spoiler alert: it never did, but it was fun to watch all the same.

My hair finally tamed, I applied some light concealer, desperate to rid myself of the dark circles clinging underneath my eyes. “You know,” her jingling stops, “You really don’t need any makeup, Hika.”

I only snort in response; taking compliments has never been my forte. Grabbing my purse and phone, I slipped on a pair of sandals. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Let’s rock and roll!”

-

As one could expect on the first weekend of summer vacation, Odaiba beach was cluttered with people. For mile it seemed the white sand was obscured by sunburnt bodies and an array of towels, but that was understandable.

The passing heat wave had been brutal. One could not go outside without sunscreen, lest risk getting sun poisoning. Within minutes, Miyako sucked her lemonade dry, settling on chewing the left-over ice. “Oh!” she squealed, bits of ice flinging about. “An empty spot, just over there!”

Years of running away from evil Digimon  looked like practice as we narrowly dodged the ample bodies of beach-goers. Arms linked together; our feet kicked up sand behind us as we ran. Just as we were about to secure our small area, a blue beach towel obscured the white sand.

I was panting too hard to notice Miyako’s eyes light up or the stranger’s shadow obscure the sun’s rays.

“Hey, guys! What are you two doing here?” a familiar voice asked, humor lifting at the end of his question. My breathing stopped mid-pant, silently cursing whatever deity that would listen. Once my heartbeat was under control, I managed to stand up straight. Raising a singular eyebrow, I challenged our guest. “Well, Takeru, the last time I checked, this beach is open to the public.”

His blonde hair reflected the sunshine, a soft, golden glow haloing around him. As if I needed any more reason to fall in love with him. He laughed in good nature, smiling a boyish, toothy grin.

“You took our spot.” Miyako pointed out, arms crossed over her chest. Wrinkles formed between her brows, her effort to look more menacing. A pair of heart-shaped sunglasses shielded her hazel eyes, and I almost giggled at the thought of her trying to look domineering while wearing something so innocent.

“Who says we all can’t share?” he countered; blues eyes illuminated by mischief. Never one to back down from a challenge, Miyako stood her ground, “I don’t think so.”

Anxiety clenched at my stomach. As of late, being in a close proximity to Takeru made me nervous, especially when he was shirtless with little rivets of water trailing their way down his abs. He was no longer the cute little eight-year-old that sat with me by the campfire. Years of basketball practice had solidified his athletic figure, and two summers ago, his growth spurt had him towering over his own brother. Seeing him in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks did not help my flushed state.

“It’ll be fine, Miyako. We can just squish our towel beside his.”  Rolling her eyes, she begrudgingly pulled out her Hello Kitty! themed towel, spreading it haphazardly on the ground. “Let’s just get in the water. That’s where all of the cute guys are, anyway.”

Takeru, for his part, pretended not to notice the hostility in her voice. He was as used to her moodiness as I was. Standing there awkwardly, he only made the move to leave as we began to strip down to our bikinis. “I should probably go find Ken and Daisuke. I’ll catch you both later,” he stammered, eyes intently focused on the granules of sand that had clung themselves to his hands.

Looking at each other, Miyako and I burst into a fit of giggles. She had a twinkle in her eyes as she wiggled her eyebrows in my direction. “No, absolutely not.” I deadpan, knowing exactly where this was about to go.

Her glossed bottom lip poked out, her attempt at a puppy-dog look. In my opinion, she looked more like a Kardashian, and when I told her exactly this, the lip was sucked right back in.

Though it was still pretty early, the sun was high in the sky. My cheeks were warm, and my shoulders had turned a light shade of pink. “We need to put some sunscreen on before we fry.”

���Nah, I’m good. I need to work on my tan anyway.” Miyako’s high-waisted bikini bottoms and halter bathing suit top suited her figure, the cornflower blue color complimenting the slight tan she had already developed. She raised an eyebrow at my pink one-piece, but I just shrugged. Shopping for a skimpy bathing suits had never been one of my priorities.

Neither of us felt comfortable oogling guys when our friends were here and apt to make fun of us, so the though of swimming was abandoned. I smeared sunblock on any bit exposed skin, using the technique a toddler would when icing a cake: all hands on deck.  

The pair of us sprawled out, Miyako’s body covering most of the cartoon cat. My pale legs claimed Takeru’s towel as my own. His blonde hair had disappeared in the throngs of beachgoers, and considering that he wasn’t the sunbathing type, I figured he wouldn’t complain.  

Rays of sunshine encapsulated me, and the muscles in my shoulders slowly unwound. Eyes closed, I only half-listened to surrounding conversation. A child begged his mother for ice cream while some teenaged girl made her move. A nearby volleyball game was in full swing, both teams shouting at one another. The summer air was stagnant, smelling of sunscreen, sweat, and salt.

We laid around, soaking in the sunshine and the freedom that came with summer vacation. Those last few weeks of school had been stressful. Between taking pictures for the school paper and studying for any upcoming exams, I had been ready to lose my mind. Takeru had also been acting strange, flip-flopping between avoiding me at all costs or never letting me out of his sight. It had all be so intense that I was grateful for Miyako’s distraction, even if it meant waking up at the ass-crack of dawn.

“Psst.” I whispered. I rolled onto my side, doing my best to ignore the way iced coffee moved around in my belly. In our haste to get to the overcrowded seaside, we had forgone any breakfast, hoping that caffeine would be enough to fuel us throughout the day. The rumble in my stomach proved otherwise.

Miyako groaned, peeking at me through her ridiculously long lashes. Note to self: interrogate her about the brand of mascara she uses.

“Psst, Miyako.” She ignored me once again, opting to rotate like a rotisserie chicken.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go find food on my own.” I stood up, dusting invisible debris off of my legs. Sure enough, I had my friend’s full attention. Anything that involved eating always got her going. In a flurry of purple hair and sand, she was up on her feet, eyes searching for the nearest snack source. A laugh bubbled out of my throat. Miyako tended to do all things with a theatrical flair, making even the most mundane tasks enjoyable.

Once, in middle school, we were both sentenced to lunch duty. Our job was simple: serve food to our peers. Dishing out food was easy; just ladle the mystery meat on a plate and voila! You were finished. It would have been simple enough, had we not had to wear hairnets and white smocks that made us look more like a middle-aged lunch lady than we ever wanted to. Miyako was never the type to wallow in self-pity. She ignored the looks of sympathy other girls gave us and found pleasure in the odd slurp sound the food made when hitting the trays. Soon, it became a competition of who could create the best squelch, testing out different flinging techniques until we were satisfied. By then end of lunch period, our smocks were littered with oil stain, and our cheeks were sore from smiling.

Miyako channeled her inner lunch lady food-flinging abilities as she practically pushed innocent bystanders out of her way. God help those who stood between Miyako and, well, whatever it was that she wanted. Her ponytail navigated through the crowd, giving me no choice but to follow. Her legs lead us to a slushie cart, manned by a woman who was all smiles and sticky syrup. It might not have been solid food, but I wouldn’t deny myself a sugar high.

A small line had already formed, several children tugging on their parents’ sleeves. My bathing suit clung to my skin uncomfortably. I tried to shift in place, but the air was thick with heat. Aside from seeing my childhood crush half-naked, waking up early hadn’t been the best idea. The sun was high in the sky, my morning shadow disappearing.

The line moved quickly, and before long, the pair of us stood at the front, pondering our choices. Finger resting on her lip in faux-concentration, Miyako made a show of deciding on a flavor “Could I have a mix of wild cherry and blue raspberry, please?”  

“Why pretend to chose when you get the same thing every time?” As a woman of few pleasures, I found a great joy in calling Miyako out. Her flush of embarrassment was a rare sight.  Turning towards the employee, I order the first flavor to have ‘strawberry’ in its name.

A few minutes later, we found ourselves walking along the shoreline. The waves lapped at our bare feet and we slurped on our slushies, rambling on about anything that came to mind.

“You know,” I said, disrupting the natural lull of conversation, “The last time I drank a slushie like this was before I even met you.”

By now, Miyako’s slushie had melted into a dark purple, the last remnants of red dye staining her lips. “But slushies are, like, a summer staple. What’s up with that?”

I twirled my straw around, savoring the last bits of pink ice that had collected on the bottom of my cup. “Well, my brother would probably make fun of me. He already gives me a hard-enough time about my ice cream addiction; he says sweet things are for children.” Switching voices, I lowered my pitch and curled my arms, much like an ape would at the zoo. In a horrible attempt at mocking my brother, I continued, “ ‘Hikari, sweets bad, protein good. Eat more meat.’”

I took a few more steps before I realized she was no longer beside me. Turning around, I barely had time to register the shocked look on her features before she cried out: “Slushies are not just for kids! Fuck him!” Apparently, my friend took summer treats very seriously. 

If her passionate outburst hadn’t of attracted attention, her colorful language sure did. Quickly, I grabbed her arm, hastily pulling her towards our belongings. Embarrassment colored my cheeks as I attempted to dodge the gazes of judgmental bystanders. “Miyako, you can’t just say things like that,” I whispered to her, clenched teeth giving my tone a pinched quality.

“C’mon,” I thrusted her towel into her arms, “let’s get out of here before we get kicked out.”

Pulling on her shorts, she cast me a sideways glance. “I’m sorry, Hika, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Sighing, I held both of her hands between mine. “You said what you did because you care about me, and I can’t fault you for that.” I gathered up the rest of my own belongings before continuing. “Besides, you forgot to feed me today. I’m thinking we get some McDonald’s. Your treat?”

She laughed, hands now busying themselves with her shirt. “Isn’t McDonald’s for kids?”

Tossing my purse over my shoulder, I turned around and winked. “Fuck society.”

[thetomorrowshow]

The Poignancy Of Silence

Part 2!

A/N: This is my entry for @stop-it-anxiety‘s fall fic contest! I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s based off the prompt “Patton’s Song”. There will be a part two--hopefully I can get it out before the contest ends (part 2 will be Roceit y’all).

Words: 5309

Tw: car accident (nothing graphic no one really gets hurt), little bit of blood, light kissing, gambling addiction, lots and lots of tears

Pairing(s): Moceit (yeah, I don’t normally like it. Inspiration struck though, and I really like this story)

-

Kind people who had known Dee as a child would have called him imaginative. Less kind people might have labeled him troubled. Those who were even less so would've said he was a delusional liar.

It didn't really matter to Dee. In more cases than not, those who couldn't hear the music weren't worth his time.

Yes, Dee heard music. As a child, it had been loud, ever-present, as children were almost always happy. Not that 'happy' was quite the correct word for it. Each person had a different song, one that played when (as far as he could tell) that person was experiencing a strong, positive emotion. One he'd observed was love. Sympathy, occasionally. But most frequent was joy.

Dee didn't have a song. He didn't know why, but always suspected that he was just missing out on whatever joy everyone else possessed. He'd never been truly happy. It hurt, deep down. Hurt to know that he'd never get this little portion of personality. He hid it the best he could.

Trying to explain to teachers and guardians why he couldn't pay attention in class did nothing but land him therapist visits, diagnoses, and pills that there was no way he was going to take. By the age of nine, Dee had learned to lie about it. People were scared of the music, he realized. They didn't want anyone to hear it.

So, the next time his foster brother burst through the front door waving his report card, a huge smile on his face and accompanied by the cheery ukulele strumming that was his music, Dee just smiled as well and said nothing.

A new family stopped making him see the doctors and take the drugs, but somehow got the memo that he was a liar. It hurt to hear from the people he desperately wanted to be loved by, especially since most families didn't want him, mainly due to his birth disfigurement. He tried to laugh it off, though. His face made for wonderful Halloween opportunities.

As Dee grew older, he started listening to music of his own. Earbuds playing light mood music or The Beatles or quiet indie songs, a playlist perfectly crafted to allow him to focus. It covered up the discordant mash of instruments that was high school.

One weekend, he locked himself in his stuffy room on the upper floor of his foster family's house, intent on staying there until Monday, when he discovered that his earbuds were broken. He didn't dare go in search of a new pair and put himself in the middle of whatever his guardians were arguing about this time, so just cracked his window for some fresh air and hoped no one was near enough for their song to hit his ears. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. A tune drifted up, and, before he shut the window, he tilted his head, listening to someone's joy.

It was a jaunty piano tune, plunked out jovially, like whoever it was coming from hadn't a care in the world. It was . . . pretty, he decided. Very sweet and easy. So, for that one time, he left the window open.

-

Every day after school Dee dashed up to his bedroom and cracked his window, tearing out his earbuds recklessly. Every day, that music wafted up to his room and he smiled, the day finally made good.

One day, he popped his head over the sill and glimpsed a grinning teenager, sprawled out on the trampoline in the neighbor's backyard. He immediately ducked down, afraid of being seen. The boy was—there was no other word for it—adorable. Like a puppy, happy at existence.

Dee started to keep an eye out for him. Paused his music when walking past him on the way to school, or when walking past the neighbor's house. Blushed when he saw the boy's smile at the grocery store, working as a cashier.

He wasn't attracted to the dark-haired, liberally freckled, bespectacled boy. He just wanted to know. What about him made his music so carefree?

-

Dee taught himself to how to play piano when he was fifteen, sneaking into the jazz band closet during lunch and plunking out notes on the keyboard. He said to himself that knowing how to play piano was a good skill to have, and it would get him girls, and maybe he could take it to a career if he got good enough.

Saying that didn't change the fact that the first thing he learned was the boy's song.

-

Years haunted by that cheerful music (which, for some reason, he never got sick of) passed. Dee moved away, got an apartment of his own, yet he still heard it.

The university he attended was unsurprisingly lacking in music. It came in short bursts here and there, but maybe it was more plentiful in the dorms. That didn't change the fact that every morning, on the walk to whatever building of the school he needed, He heard the neighbor boy's music. It was brief, always drifting from the same busy intersection, like it was coming from one of the waiting vehicles while Dee crossed the road.

The tune being so close and so far at once drove Dee mad. He stopped listening for it—he needed to move on. His playlist had been specifically designed to block out music. He started wearing his earbuds everywhere again.

One morning he was running particularly late. He ran out of the apartment building and dashed down his route to campus. His backpack bounced and jostled, his breath came in gasps, his eyes were fixed on his pounding feet, but he didn't hear any of it. Just George Harrison singing sweetly in his ear. Which was probably why he didn't notice that the light was green as he burst out of the tree line and ran  into the busy intersection.

He didn't hear the honking, or the tires screeching, or the shouts.

-

His eyes blinked open, then instantly squeezed shut as they were met with a blinding light. He felt sick and dizzy and his head ached. A shadow passed over his eyelids, and he realized he was lying on something hard and almost sharp.

“I don't think he's waking up!”

Dee groaned and let his eyes flicker open again. A helmeted head turned away from him blocked the sun. Then the person turned back, a phone to his ear, freckled face creased with worry. Even years later, Dee recognized him. Even without the glasses, and with blood welling up from a deep-looking cut on his cheek.

The boy. Or, the man.

“It's you,” he said before he could stop himself. The boy man's face relaxed, and he spoke into the phone again.

“Never mind, he woke up! When will the ambulance be here?” A pause, then he nodded and covered the receiver. “Don't worry,” he whispered with a conspiratorial wink. “I have financial aid.”

And that was how Dee formally met Patton Esperanza. Sprawled out on a busy road, bleeding from a head injury, the man's motorcycle lying just in his peripheral.

And he was head-over-heels in love.

-

Their first date was in the hospital cafe, both with their wounds treated. Dee had noticed the pride pin on Patton Esperanza's collar. He shared that he was pansexual himself, and Patton Esperanza, with that adorable little smile of his that scrunched up his eyes and put a dimple in his right cheek, had said, “So I guess this is a date, then. Or a gay-te.”

And that music had played, that cheerful, down-to-earth tune that Dee could associate with a shining face and a small gap between teeth and a sea of freckles.

“I—I guess,” he'd stuttered.

And Patton Esperanza had laughed a small laugh, and Dee found himself blushing as Patton Esperanza suggested a second date soon.

-

Their second date was at a small, locally-owned buffet. Dee found himself laughing an easy laugh as Patton Esperanza mimicked a walrus, chopsticks stuffed in his cheeks. Even over the five separate tunes playing from other customers, he could hear Patton's song.

He found out that Patton Esperanza was in veterinary school, across the campus from the law division of the school, where Dee spent most of his time. He could imagine Patton greeting the dogs and cats with a huge goofy grin, and realized that he would be a perfect veterinarian.

He felt his face grow warm when Patton nudged his shoulder, sputtered a bit when Patton stole the vegetable sushi from his plate, grinned stupidly when Patton cooed and waved at the baby in the booth across the aisle.

As he'd noticed years previously, Patton Esperanza was the happiest person alive. With him, Dee thought that maybe—just maybe—he could be just as happy.

-

It was the fifth date when Patton Esperanza kissed him. A quick peck on the lips at the local Museum of Modern Art (Dee's choice, it was mentally quieter than the places Patton liked to visit), followed immediately by a scared look.

“Was that too much?” Patton asked quickly, those bright hazel eyes brimming with worry. Dee realized he hadn't moved, just stood frozen while he tried to process.

“N-no, it was fine!” He shook his head, trying to clear it, thinking only of how brief the moment had been and how weird kissing was, but in a nice, soft way. “It was good,” he amended, and slowly, cautiously, slipped his hand into Patton's. The man's face lit up, the worry washing away.

They wandered the halls all afternoon, hands laced together between them, giggling at nonsensical art and standing somberly before pieces that hit too close to home.

“My parents split up when I was eleven,” Patton admitted at some point. His music had quieted. “I've got two little brothers. My parents both knew that they wanted my brothers, and argued over them, but. . . .” he sighed. “Neither of them really wanted me. I ended up with my mom and one brother. It was clear that she only really loved my brother.” He saw Dee's sympathy and smiled sadly. “It's okay, though. Just because I love them doesn't mean they have to love me.”

-

“My parents didn't want me, either,” Dee said over a cup of coffee, at the cafe across the street from the museum. He laughed, the sound more bitter than his drink. “Failed abortion. You'd think maybe they'd have a change of heart, and keep me, but no. Took one look at my face and screamed, I guess.”

Patton reached over and lightly ran a hand down the bumps and ridges that defined the scaly deformity that disfigured the left side of his face. “I like it,” he said quietly. “Even if no one else does. It just means no one will be trying to take you away from me.”

This time, though Patton again initiated the kiss, Dee didn't freeze. He passionately responded.

-

They shared a home now. Dee's home, actually.

Which meant they shared a kitchen.

Which naturally meant they should bake cookies together.

Poof!

A cloud of flour erupted in Dee's face. He coughed and sputtered and heard Patton's voice from somewhere through the cloud. “Oops. Sorry!” The little giggle that followed denoted any sincerity.

“Oh, it is on,” Dee grinned. He spotted the canister of sugar on a counter and, quick as a flash, grabbed a handful and launched it in Patton's direction.

“Ow! No fair!” laughed Patton. Dee recoiled with a bark of laughter as a plastic measuring cup narrowly missed his nose.

The kitchen exploded into an all-out war of ingredients (or anything else at hand), the recipe book on the table forgotten.

When it was all over, and the dust had literally settled, Patton and Dee stood in the middle of the kitchen, crying tears of laughter and holding each other like it was the end of the world. They were both covered in fine white powder; every movement brought another puff of flour. The afternoon sun filtered through a window, catching the particles in the air and surrounding them with a galaxy of little star-like specks.

“I love you,” Patton whispered. Dee heard his cheery music, which had been a background noise, rise to almost deafening.

“I love you.”

-

“I hear music.”

“What?”

Dee wasn't quite sure why he was saying it. Everyone he'd told about it had called him a liar, delusional. Somehow, though, he felt like Patton was different. He steeled himself.

“I, uh. I hear music.”

“Right now?” Patton smiled, and yes, Dee did hear his music right then.

“Uh, yeah, actually.”

Patton paused the movie. They were curled up on the couch in their living room on a Sunday afternoon, cuddled in the warmth of blankets and each other, the first snow of the season falling outside.

“It's stupid, never mind.”

“Dee, you can tell me anything.”

One look at those eyes, honest, accepting, loving, gave him the courage he needed.

“Well . . . I hear music,” he repeated. So few words, yet so hard to say. “Like, for me, everyone has their own tune that plays when they're joyful—or, whatever.”

He tensed and looked away, waiting to be called a liar, or silly, or be laughed at. Instead, the music grew louder.

“That's awesome.”

Dee looked back; Patton's face was shining with excitement. He chuckled a bit. “Uh, yeah. It's actually pretty loud.”

Patton didn't seem to hear. He bounced off the couch and to the keyboard in the corner of the room. “You play, right? Can you play me somebody's?”

“Of course, mon amour,” Dee said, trying to mask his apprehension with a silky tone. Patton blushed, then pulled back the chair. Dee sat, letting his nerves roll off in waves. He stretched his fingers, took one last glance at his love, then closed his eyes.

He knew what he was going to play. He'd memorized it years ago. Anytime he sat before a piano,  it pulled at his hands and pushed at his head.

His hands found the correct keys. He waited a few seconds for the music in his ears to loop around to the beginning, then let it flow from his fingertips. He missed a note or two, but it was fine. The rest of it, the jaunty, plunking tune, sounded beautiful.

When he wrapped it up, he opened his eyes to see Patton's shining with wonder.

“Is that yours?”

Dee barely heard the whisper over how loud the song was. He cringed inwardly, not wanting to wake the hurt deep inside at not having a song of his own. He grinned up at Patton.

“No. It's yours.”

-

“Where are you?”

“I got held up. Dr. Green wanted to talk with me about getting an internship.”

“Where?”

“Thompson and Edelman.”

“That's far away.”

“Yeah. I don't think I'm going to take it.”

Silence. “So where are you right now?”

“Stuck in traffic. It's Friday, you know. Rush hour's pretty bad.”

“Yeah.” A sigh. “I don't know. This is the third date night in a row you've missed. Maybe we should stop trying.”

Now he felt guilty. In truth, the internship discussion hadn't been what made him late. He'd hung around the dorms, playing poker with some other law students.

“Maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I've got to be at the clinic.”

“Right. Movie on Sunday?”

“. . . Yeah.”

“Great. You want me to pick something up to eat on my way home?”

“No, no. I made dinner. I'll just reheat it for you.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you.”

-

Patton's spoon clattered as it fell back in his bowl. His jaw hung open. Dee could hear the first few notes of a very recognizable tune.

Dee laughed. “It's true. I've never built a snowman.”

A huge grin unfurled across Patton's face. “Let's go! Right now. I think it's wet enough.”

“Are six inches enough to build a snowman?”

“Any amount of snow is enough if you try hard!”

So they built a snowman. Dee's coat was warm, but he didn't have any gloves, and wore yellow rubber dish gloves instead. When he waggled his fingers, Patton just laughed. “Now I know what to get you for Christmas!”

The snowman didn't go so well. Grass stuck to it and the construction was lopsided and Dee was fairly certain that the head was the same size as the bottom part, but Patton smiled happily and ran inside the apartment building. He emerged with a carrot, likely borrowed from one of the grinning neighbors that watched through the windows. He stuck it proudly in the middle of its face; Dee wrapped his only scarf around it.

Patton declared it the best snowman ever.

-

He did get gloves for Christmas. They were a ghastly yellow (likely in memory of the dish gloves), but they were soft, and one look at Patton's sparkling eyes told him he was going to wear them every day.

-

“I'm truly touched that you didn't like my birthday gift.”

“I told you I didn't want anything! I would've loved to just spend the day with you.”

“Well, I'm sorry that I didn't understand your stupid hints. Maybe I shouldn't have spent a week trying to pick something!”

“If you'd listened to me, you wouldn't have had to! You would've known what I wanted!”

“Obviously I'm not wanted, I'll be back tonight. Return the gift, I don't give a—”

“—Don't go play poker, you know I hate it when you gamble!”

“Don't tell me what to do.”

“That's not the person I fell in love with!”

“What, you thought I was a submissive puppy?! I have goals and a life, you know! I can't spend every minute listening to you! I'm not here just to make you happy!”

“And I'm not here to have a boyfriend who ignores me and lies to avoid spending time with me!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Maybe I don't know if it was a sincere apology!”

“Maybe you should get a new boyfriend!”

“. . . You—you don't mean that.”

Slam.

-

“Name?”

Dee cleared his throat. “Uh, I'm just here to deliver these flowers to Dr. Esperanza.”

The man at the desk's face lit up. “Aw, that's cute! I'll let him know.”

Dee turned to leave, but a door opening behind him gave him pause. Was Patton coming into the waiting room?

No. The man had glasses, but his hair was a lighter shade of brown and his eyes were grey, and he had a more professional look—a necktie over a white button-up, covered by a lab coat. A low, methodical tune followed him.

“The Foster dog needs flea treatment,” the man said to the secretary without preamble, then noticed Dee. “Ah. Are you a patient with us?”

Dee shook his head. Then gestured at the flowers, then pointed at the door the man had exited from. His throat felt too dry too speak for some reason. The man followed his gestures, then his gaze landed on the deformed side of Dee's visage. Dee felt his face burn as he saw the distaste take over the man's—Dr. Logan Cato, his badge read—face. Dr. Cato's music trundled to a stop.

The doctor took him by the arm out the front door, nails biting into Dee's skin. As soon as the door closed, he spoke.

“If Patton ever comes into work crying again,” Dr. Cato said, his voice a low threat, “you'll have me to answer to. You're going to have to do better than some cheap flowers.”

Dee nodded and tried to pull away, but the man wasn't done. “Anyone would be lucky to have him,” the veterinarian said. “You need to recognize just how much you mean to him.”

That annoyed Dee. As Dr. Cato released him and walked back inside, Dee went over his words again. How much he meant to Patton? What about how much Patton meant to him? He'd skipped class and driven across town to the vet that Patton interned at just to apologize! Sure, maybe he was too much of a coward to say sorry in person, but he'd googled about which flowers meant what and composed a poem.

Patton was his life. He wouldn't let a stupid mistake push him away.

-

“Did you skip class to get me the flowers?”

“Yes.”

“Dee, you can't—”

“Sweetheart, I wanted to.”

“But your future!”

“I don't want a future without you.”

-

“Where were you?”

Dee froze halfway in the door. “Tutoring,” he lied. Patton hated when he gambled. Speaking of Patton, the man stood before him now, his face stony, arms crossed.

“We were supposed to spend the evening together.”

In all honesty, a part of Dee had remembered. They'd been planning a trip to a busy restaurant. He knew Patton wanted to, but he shuddered at the thought of such a crowded place, so many people with so much music.

“I'm sorry, he apologized automatically. “Three students needed help, and I was the only person there to tutor—”

“I got the evening off work just to spend with you.”

Dee felt a spark of anger in his chest. “What about me?” he asked belligerently. “What if I'd come home and wanted to be alone?”

“Well, I—”

“I can't drop everything I'm doing just because you want me to!” Dee ranted, really getting heated now. “I care about you, but I have a life too! I have things that I want to do, too!”

Patton's brow furrowed. “Were you . . . were you out gambling again?”

Dee felt his face heat up. “So what if I was? What's wrong with that?”

“Dee, there's so much wrong with it, but. . . .” Patton looked away. When he turned back, his earnest face was crumpling, his eyes full. “Today? Of all days?” he choked out.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no. His anger vanished quick as it had come, replaced by a cold fear. Today? What was today?

The 24th. The 24th of April. The same date that, a year ago, Patton had agreed to be his boyfriend.

Their anniversary.

“Oh no,” he breathed. His mind flew: did he get a gift? Was his gift going to be spending time together? And if so, did he just ruin their anniversary—and relationship—by being a selfish idiot?

Before he could say anything, a body pushed past him; the door swung closed.

“No—Pat, wait—!”

He threw himself out the door, but Patton was already gone. The thudding of running feet echoed from the stairwell.

“Pat, please!” Dee called out, heedless of those trying to sleep in surrounding apartments. He flew down the stairs, coming to a stop on the ground level just as the building door slammed shut.

A woman and her toddler watched on sympathetically as Dee dropped to his knees and sobbed. He hadn't thought that the night before would be the last night   he'd get to hold his true love.

He hadn't thought that he'd be the one to drive his true love away.

-

“One more chance.”

“One more chance.”

Dee pulled Patton into a kiss, relaxing when his boyfriend (somewhat reluctantly) returned the affection.

“How about I take off work tomorrow? You don't work till 3, so we can pull an all-nighter tonight.”

Patton nodded, a small smile gracing his tear-stained face. “It's been a while since we did one of those.”

“I still haven't seen that Christopher Robin movie.”

Later, they were curled up on the floor, surrounded by blankets and pillows and popcorn, a plate  of pizza rolls between them, the movie playing on the screen before them. Dee tapped Patton on the shoulder; the man looked up sleepily.

“I made this for you,” he whispered, and dropped something into his hand.

Patton's eyes widened at the bracelet. Beads spelling his name were laced into a complicated braid (Dee had learned to braid years previous, having been forced by a foster sister, then realized he found it calming and kept it up). Different shades of blue and grey crisscrossed beautifully and intricately.

“I'll wear it forever,” breathed Patton. “How did you make it?”

Dee shrugged awkwardly, a hand on the back of his neck. “It wasn't too hard. Just a braid.”

“I love it.”

Dee smiled, relieved. “I love you, you know?”

Finally, he heard that soft, plunking music.

“Yeah. I love you.”

-

It was late—or, early, maybe? That was okay, though. He'd let Patton know in advance that he'd be late. He'd made something up about a study group and dinner afterward. Patton had seemed okay with it.

However, it was now clear that his boyfriend had made plans of his own. He could hear Pat through the walls—chatting with the couple two doors down. He couldn't hear his song, though.

Instead of going straight to bed, he flopped out on the couch and turned something on—probably music. Music made for a good white noise for him, something to have to relax against.

It was perhaps a sign of his growing drowsiness that he didn't hear when the door opened.

“Oh.”

The word was cold and removed, and Dee sat up and stretched, blinking blearily at the figure in the doorway.

“Pat?” He took in his boyfriend's red nose and eyes, his stiff posture, the tight line that was his mouth. “What's wrong?”

“She tagged you.”

“What?”

Patton pointed at an open laptop on the counter, which Dee hadn't previously noticed. He stumbled up and over to it, his fingers dancing across the mousepad as the screen woke up.

It was open to a video on a social media site, and before it even started, Dee felt his heart sink.

He saw himself, hissing on a pair of dice and tossing them out onto an unseen table. Saw himself raise his arms in a gesture of triumph, mouthing “Snake eyes!” amidst silent cheering from the group crowding around him. Saw a girl (he didn't even know her name, some freshman who was already failing) pull him by his collar until their mouths collided. Saw his own eyebrows raise. Saw a student whistle, another letting out a noiseless catcall.

The clip moved on to a different moment before he could watch himself push the girl away with a nervous laugh. Check the time. Make up some excuse about leaving. Bite his lip anxiously, hoping that Patton would never find out.

He looked up wordlessly, trying to find something more meaningful than I'm sorry (words that should mean so much, but went hollow after too many lies). A tear slipped from Patton's eye, dying a spot on his light blue t-shirt black.

“I thought you'd died,” he spat. “There was an accident on 150. The car looked like yours. I kept calling, and you didn't pick up.”

“Pat—”

“I don't want to hear it!” Patton shouted, anger spilling over. “You promised you would stop gambling, you promised to not lie, and on April 24th, over a year ago, you promised to love me!”

“Pat!” But he couldn't be stopped.

“Everything is lies! Every day, I'm asking myself if you're really planning on coming home that night!” Tears ran fiercely down both of their faces. Dee stood, reached for Patton's shoulder, who jumped back as if burned.

“Don't touch me!” he hissed. “You're full of lies, and—and—” his voice raised— “Now I know why your parents named you Deceit!”

Dee physically recoiled. They never talked about his birth name. Ever. Patton had promised to never bring it up—not in an argument, not in a loving way, never. It hurt too much. He looked , expecting an apology. None came. Patton glared at him. Dee broke eye contact immediately, feeling the freezing pain of hearing his name mixed the crippling pain of his lover's hateful gaze. As soon as he turned away, a choked sob met his ears, and a body pushed past him.

Not for the first time, Patton ran away from the apartment. Not for the first time, Dee stood in shock, and briefly wondered what the neighbors must think.

Not for the first time, Dee fell to his knees, certain that this was the last time, that his true love was never coming back.

-

Dee was there when Patton returned—or, rather, there again. Dee had wandered the streets in the windy night until the edges of the sky started to turn purple, then orange. Then he'd wearily trod back to the complex to see if Patton had returned of his own accord. The man hadn't, but hardly ten minutes passed before the door was quietly pushed open and Patton stumbled in, stepped around Dee—who was silently crying in a heap on the floor—and went into the bedroom. The lock clicked behind him.

Now, Dee dashed away his tears. The sun was almost fully visible. On a weekday, they would be up at this time, preparing breakfast and showering and packing their bags for class.

Dee wasn't all that great at cooking, but scrambled eggs were decently simple, so he cracked some eggs in a pan and turned on the stove.

At some point, a glimmer of hope had sprung up in his stomach. Maybe . . . if he changed . . . if he reminded Pat of all the good times. . . .

He shook himself. He isn't happy with you, he told himself. It's hurting him to be with you.

Still, though. Maybe . . . maybe if he devoted his life to him . . . maybe . . . maybe Patton could love him again. . . .

“Dee?”

Dee dropped the spatula with a jump; he looked up to see Patton in the doorway. The man was in the same clothes as the night before, hair rumpled and eyes heavy with sleep.

He looked away as quickly as possible, stirring the eggs with vigor he didn't possess.

“Dee?”

“I'm making eggs,” Dee rambled. “You know I'm not that good at cooking, but I wanted something to do, and you were going to need to eat, and I couldn't sleep, so—”

“Dee.”

He met Patton's eyes. They were quiet, dull without the normal sparks of love and life. “Yes?”

“We tried, you know?”

And there it was. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes as Dee dropped the spatula again, letting his arms fall uselessly to his sides.

“We tried,” Patton continued, voice somehow emotionless yet overflowing with all the feelings neither of them could confess. “And we had some really good times. But people change—like clothes shrinking in the wash. One day, it's your favorite shirt, and it fits perfectly and you feel happy. The next, it's too small. Doesn't fit. It'll never fit again. And you're sad—you've just lost something that made you feel really good.”

“Pat, please—”

“I-I care about you, Dee. But this is hurting both of us. We—we just don't fit anymore.”

And now Patton was crying, now they both were, shaking and sobbing and feeling their life crash down around them. I'm sorry, Dee wanted to say. I'll change. Please. Please don't leave me. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Patton as the man flung himself at his chest. The eggs forgotten, they stood in the middle of the kitchen, crying tears of sadness and frustration and everything else and holding each other like it was the end of the world. The morning sun filtered in through the window, shining a spotlight on the two broken men.

“I love you,” Dee whispered. Patton said nothing, just hugged him closer. And Dee heard the sharpness, the poignancy, the depths of emptiness wrapped in one melody.

Silence.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Hurts to be Human: Chapter Two

You guys are awesome. I love that you’re enjoying the story. :) Shoutout to @songforhema

Here’s: Prologue, Chapter One

Warnings: Fluff, bit of soft Bucky, lotta cussing, but that’s about it

Below: That, but with Miss H.D.

Also! Meet H.D.!

Chapter Two - Can We Pretend?

It had only taken an hour for Y/N to drop her bag off and in her room and get her cat set up. Immediately she made her way to the conference room, her mind not completely in the mood to catch up with the two men- not now at least. No, now was not the time for that or to focus on how much Bucky had changed. The only thought she allowed herself was that he looked good. Better than good actually. He looked fucking hot as hell. Why hadn’t he cut his hair sooner? He looked happy…maybe he’s seeing someone. They’re probably an Enhanced or something, someone he can connect with in a way I couldn’t understand. Or maybe it’s someone from Wakanda. He always loved it there. Knowing Sam, he’s probably tried setting Buck up on more than a few blind dates… Fuck me, I never should’ve stepped on the jet. No, better than that — I should’ve kicked Fury out of my apartment when I had the chance.

“Y/N?”

She looked up, Sharon pulling her out of her thoughts. “Sorry,” she murmured, taking the folder out of the agent’s hands. She dropped it on the table, flipping it open and scanning the pages. Clippings from newspapers and magazines were now littered in front of her as Sharon pulled up videos on the hologram in front of them, making her lean forward in interest. Moments where the boys were playing hero, following instructions, trying to live up to the standard people like Steve and Tony had set in stone. “Jesus,” she murmured, watching as the boys had destroyed a plant. She didn’t know what the mission was, but was sure Sam and Bucky wouldn’t have — Her thoughts were disrupted by the video’s creator appearing, bashing on the heroes. They went on to say that they had risked countless lives and forced workers to lose their jobs. There were heavy implications that they were arrogant, childish, and had no idea what they were doing.

And that was just one video.

“Fuck, Sharon, how did it get to this point?” She glimpsed at the images from the other videos, noticing that, though the stories weren’t the same, the reactions were similar to one another. Everyone was retaliating.

“Did you hear about London?”

Running a hand through her hair, Y/N knew only what Fury had told her. “This is because of that Quentin guy?”

“It’s a domino effect, Y/N. He was supposed to be a new Avenger, somebody to replace Stark.”

“Yeah, he took advantage of Pete’s naivety.”

Sharon sighed, knowing the woman sitting across from her was getting frustrated. Y/N was always one to defend the Avengers, but most protective of her boys. “The thing is, now people are concerned because Peter’s way too young. And then our government thinks we’re trying to replace Steve —“

“Which we aren’t.”

“—Exactly. We know that, but they’re in denial about it. You know how they can get…” The reminder of the Accords hung in the air, but neither of them wanted to remember the gruesome details that came from it. Now, with Thanos having appeared not long after, the Accords were child’s play. What made the memory sting after all this time was the falling out that had happened. If Thanos hadn’t come, the unanswered question was whether the Avengers ever would have come together again. “Then you have people like Wanda and Strange who are just intense and then…well, then there’s Bucky’s history.” She noticed how Y/N tensed, knowing Bucky was still going to be a sensitive subject.

“So the plan?” There was always a plan. Fury gave her the basic ideas, but she needed to know and understand what Sharon’s thoughts were and how she wanted to go about this. Fury might have left the two of them in charge of Sam’s and Bucky’s shenanigans, but in moments like this, Sharon was always the one in charge. Always.

“We need to keep Bucky and Sam on the down low while we make sure there isn’t a repeat of the Accords. The last thing we need is for them to try and step into a field they have no understanding of.” Looking at the videos, she added, “We also need to do damage control. Something that shows Bucky is a changed man. You’d be proud of him, Y/N. He’s come a long way. As for Sam — the government is mostly concerned about his role, but if we can get the people to approve of him, they can’t fight all of it.”

Y/N grimaced, rubbing her temples. Keep Bucky and Sam on the down low while also getting them in a controlled spotlight. She blatantly ignored Fury's constant (it seemed) updates about Bucky. Bucky and Sam. That was why she was here while Sharon handled the hell that was America’s government. Why did she get the feeling that the ‘maintaining the boys’ part of the job wouldn’t be as easy as it could be? “Do they know about any of this?” she asked, gesturing to the media.

“Bits and pieces. Sam likes teasing the trolls, but doesn’t get much farther than that. Bucky? Well, he’s an old man still struggling to fully grasp how far technology and the media has come.”

Hesitating, Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer as she asked, “Do either of them know about this scheme? About my part in it?”

“Not yet.”

“Sharon!”

“Well —“

“What, were you waiting for me to break the news to them?” She saw the hopeful glint in Sharon’s eyes and groaned. “I just got here, Sharon!”

“Exactly! I have to deal with them all the time! Do you know how many times I’ve had to confiscate Redwing from Sam? Or put the two of them in time out? Come on, Y/N, I need a break.”

Letting out a small huff, strands of her hair flew into the air for a brief moment before falling back to frame her face. “Fine.” She could handle two ridiculous, overgrown children. It was just Sam and Bucky, just two of her old friends. Sam and Bucky. That’s it. It’s just Sam and Bucky. Just her best friend and ex boyfriend.

Fuck, she shouldn’t have gotten on the jet.

Glancing at the papers, she knew in that moment she shouldn’t have even left work.

———

The living room was quiet that afternoon, something that had become more than normal since most of the Avengers decided they wanted to spend their free time pursuing “normal lives”. For Bucky, it was actually a relief. He had gotten better with people and talking, but that didn’t mean he still liked being the life of the party. That was the old Bucky, the guy from the forties that didn’t exist anymore. Pieces of him did, sure, but the rest of him? That was something else. For instance, something Sam had noticed about the man was that Bucky didn’t like sitting anywhere like a normal human being. If he was on a kitchen chair, he sat facing the back, straddling the seat. If he was in something fluffier and more comfortable? Trust Barnes to sit on the arm with his legs outstretched and resting on the other side, the actual seat left cold and forgotten. As for couches? He sprawled out, completely outstretched with one leg usually thrown over the back.

And that’s where he was in this moment.

He held his journal above him, scribbling away thoughts and notes he knew Doc would want to know about Y/N’s appearance. There would be questions regarding whether Bucky was processing it okay, if he was functioning with something so new and yet so personal. That being said, he hoped there would’t be questions about his emotions. He didn’t feel anything for Y/N anymore. That was a long time ago and, with the way things ended, he knew Y/N didn’t feel anything for him either. o

So why was he still thinking about that smile? Or the way her eyes seemed particularly endless when she held his gaze?

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand over his face before pinching the corners of his eyes. He had to stop overthinking this. Y/N was back for work. That’s why Fury was the one who brought her in. If she wanted to come back on her own, she would have. She was stubborn and a pain in the ass. There was no one that could talk her out of a bad idea, no matter how bad. Not even herself.

“Meow.”

Bucky jumped when he heard the small noise so painfully close to his face, the couch groaning underneath his weight. He dropped the journal and pen on his chest and opened his eyes, brow furrowing. Sitting on the arm of the couch, staring down at him, was Y/N’s cat. What did she say its name was? “Hello there,” he murmured, voice soft as the small feline blinked slowly, tilting its head.

He had never felt so judged in his life.

Reaching up with his flesh hand, he was careful to let the animal approach him first. The last thing he wanted was for it to decide he was an enemy and make use of those tiny talons. “Aw,” he said, his low voice seeming to calm the cat down. “You aren’t so bad, are you?” Bucky chuckled as the cat eyed his fingers warily before pressing its forehead against his knuckles. “God, I wish I remembered your name.”

The cat jumped, landing on his chest with an almost impossibly delicate pounce. He tried to stay still, laughing when the cat went out of its way to knock off his journal and pen before circling his chest in search of a particular spot. Finicky little thing she was, but she seemed to like how warm he was, purring in content when his laugh turned into a low rumble. His fingers continued to delicately stroke her fur as she started needing the small indent between his pecs. Once she decided it was just right, she curled up to face him, tail wrapping around her face. The black half of her fur was curled into his chest as he gently stroked her ear. Her purring was interrupted by a small meow of appreciation and it felt like his heart melted. The little thing was so tiny, so delicate, and yet didn’t shy away from him. Instead she claimed him as a spot to nap.

“Sorry about her.”

Bucky looked up, surprised when he saw Y/N standing in the doorway of the room. She was leaning against the frame, arms crossed as she stared at the feline. He shook his head and turned his gaze back to the pet, assuring Y/N, “It’s no big deal. She’s adorable.”

“She normally doesn’t warm up to people, but apparently super soldiers and agents are an exception to the rule.”

Bucky laughed, resting his head on the arm of the couch. “What’s her name?” His cheeks warmed and he knew he was blushing. “I didn’t mean to forget, I just —“

“No biggie,” she assured him, walking around the couch. “H.D. Short for Harvey Dent because of that two face thing she has going on.”

“It’s adorable.” Y/N smiled, sitting on the floor next to him.  Her shoulder brushed his metal arm and he was all too aware, noticing that she didn’t flinch.

She didn’t flinch. Y/N had been on the receiving end of multiple moments when Bucky’s nightmares had woken him up and turned him into the man HYDRA had molded. While it hadn’t been something that bothered her initially, insisting she was okay, it took them moving in together and things getting worse for her to start flinching if the arm seemed more a threat than an appendage.

Glancing at her, Bucky couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled in his chest. She had to be doing better if she didn’t mind his arm being so close to her. A part of him wondered what she had been up to. How had her life been different? Did she miss the Avengers? Or the pranks she used to play on Scott and Sam?

Did she miss him?

He looked back at H.D. Yeah, Doc might have reason to ask about old emotions. But until then, he would happily play with H.D. and enjoy Y/N’s presence. There was nothing wrong with that, right? “You met with Sharon earlier?”

“Yeah, she told me what her plan was and how I’m going to be helping.”

Bucky frowned. There was a plan? There was a mission that required bringing Y/N back? Why didn’t he or Sam know? “Well, what is it?”

She paused, the fingers that had joined Bucky’s in providing H.D. with endless affection seemed to twitch. Y/N wasn’t sure if this was the moment to tell him. Shouldn’t she wait until she could tell him and Sam at the same time? Wasn’t that the 'mature leader' thing to do? Jeez, I suck at this. Sharon really did leave her high and dry. “It can wait. I’d rather tell you and Sam at the same time if that’s okay.”

“Come on, you used to tell me all the shit before,” he joked, not looking at her. But his words meant more than skin deep little tease. It was something they had always done, sharing missions and information with each other even if it wasn’t their business to know. It was more often than not that they debriefed each other before anyone else learned anything in the team meetings. And usually those debriefings were Y/N keeping Bucky in the loop only because she didn’t want him worrying about her.

“Buck, don’t.” Her tone was a warning. He didn’t need to bring up their past. Not after all this time. But that was the thing! Seeing her like this, seeing her look so content? It didn’t seem like a long time. It felt like things had merely been on pause while they got their shit together.

Okay, never mind, Doc had plenty reason to ask about old emotions.

“Don’t what?” He feigned innocence, hoping he sounded more the part than he actually looked.

“Don’t bring up old memories.” She glanced at him, allowing herself a small smile. God, all Bucky wanted was to see her beaming again, looking happy and like nothing could hurt her. “I mean, come on, it was a long time ago. There’s no reason to bring up old bullshit when we’re different people now.” Even as she said it, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to fully believe the words coming out of her mouth. A part of her wanted to talk about old memories, the good and the bad. She wanted to ask how he was doing, if he was doing as good as she was, and what the hell made him cut his hair.

But it wasn’t her place. She had no ties to James Buchanan Barnes or any of his choices.

Bucky didn’t know what to think as he stared at H.D., a part of him wanting to pester Y/N about the questions running through his head and the other simply hurt that she was building this wall between them. Sure, they had a past and it didn’t end well. It sucked ass in all honesty, but four years is a lot of time. They could be friends, couldn’t they? At the very least?

“So what is this going to be?” he asked absentmindedly, not even registering that he’d been the one to ask.

“Coworkers?”

He snorted, looking at her. “That sounds extremely formal.”

Quickly, Y/N shifted her gaze back to the cat. Nope, she could not look at the abyss that was Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes. They broke through everything, tore down her progress and brought out a nasty side of her. At least, that was the case four years ago.

Could things between them really change?

“What would you suggest then?”

She wasn’t taking the conversation seriously from the sounds of it. Her tone made her seem disinterested and it cut Bucky down. God, had they really fallen so far from when they first met? When they’d “accidentally” bump into each other in the middle of the night to make coffee and watch Disney movies all while raiding Sam’s and Clint’s chocolate stash? Even being friends, going back to that, would be infinitely better than the idea of coworkers. They knew each other too well to take that many steps back. He’d never pressure her into a relationship, of course he wouldn’t, but at the very least…

Was it too much to ask for his friend back?

“Can try friends?”

His voice was soft, wary because he didn’t want to push her. Y/N allowed herself to smile at the idea of that. Friends was a possibility. Right? She sighed to herself, not entirely sure she could keep a platonic relationship with the man beside her. She knew what it was like to kiss him. She knew what his lips tasted like and had seen the shade of blue that burned with undeniable need and lust. She had felt what it was like to feel utterly whole by making love to him. Not only that, but Y/N knew what it was like for him to hold her into the wee hours of the morning. She knew what it was like to not simply fuck, but actually love, James Buchanan Barnes. She knew him. How could she be a friend, and a good one at that, when those details were no longer secrets or ideas she could leave to an overly active imagination?

“I guess,” she hesitated, her brow furrowing.

He noticed. “What is it, Y/N?” It had taken every muscle in his body to not follow the instinct of calling her ‘doll’, but he’d managed, wanting to keep her comfortable. Still, not using the nickname left a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

“Can,” she took a slow breath. “Can we try something? To make being friends easier?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, not sure if he wanted to hear what her request was, but he knew that this was what was needed to bring Y/N back into his life. He wanted to get to know her again, get to meet this Y/N. He wanted to know her likes and dislikes, what all had changed, and if she was anything like the spunky woman he’d first come to fall for. However, learning all of that meant he had to follow her lead. “What’s that?”

“Can we pretend?” She hesitated. It sounded odd even on her own tongue, but she had to ask. “Can we pretend that our past doesn’t exist? Can we just start over?”

His stomach clenched, his chest rising in a slightly abrupt way that made H.D. wake from her slumber. Instinctively he reached out to pet the feline, regretting waking her. Clearing his throat, he asked, “That’s what you want?” To forget everything? He couldn’t bring himself to ask the full question, simply asking what he knew wouldn’t scare her off.

There was a pause. For a moment Bucky hoped that maybe she was backtracking, second guessing her idea and realizing they couldn’t wipe away all that history. Seriously, she couldn’t possibly think this was a good idea.

“Yes.”

Okay, maybe she could. That didn’t mean he had to agree with her. Even so, this was what she wanted. He had to respect that, whether he liked it or not. But damn, did he hate it. Nodding slowly, he looked at her and offered that famous Bucky grin that showed her everything was perfectly fine. He could work with that. Definitely.

Bucky could ignore the way her eyes sparkled or the way he heard her heartbeat quicken when he looked at her. He could ignore the way he could smell her hair from here and how, if he angled his head right, he could get a glimpse down her shirt. He could forget their rocky yet completely memorable history. This was supposed to be a fresh start. That posed smile turned into one a little more genuine as he thought about that. It was a complete fresh start.

Maybe that really could work.

“You got it. If that’s what you want, we can pretend.”