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vad-hander · 3 years ago

Text

LET’S KEEP IT SECRET

pairing: Jaehyun x reader x Yuta

others: SM Rookies, multiple SM and JYP idols

words: 20k

Your mom always found it important to let everyone she talked to know how much you loved to dance, how much you enjoyed singing. She always found it important to not let that go away, always found it the biggest goal in her life to make you happy, to make you someone she could always be proud of.

Since you were 3 your mom took you to music school and when you were 4 you got accepted to a dancing school. Shuffling singing, dancing and actual school when you were 8 made your life insanely difficult. Every day you went to bed you cried yourself to sleep after your mom gave you a good night kiss and turned the lights off. You just wanted to be like your school friends, you wanted to play at the playground after school with them, you wanted to spend time with that boy Soonyeon from your class that you liked, but the only thing you were doing after your last lesson was over was going to another school and then going back home. To do math homework you struggled with, to learn new melody on the piano for the end of semester show.

You could not remember what it felt like when your neighbor suggested to ask your mom to take you to an audition to her work, when you were 14. Probably it was a very exhausting and tiring thought, you looked back at it.

“You practically got scouted in front of your school, this is big luck. I’m glad we kept in touch with Yuri, I didn’t know she worked at SM Entertainment.” Your mom couldn’t stop herself talking even for a second placing dinner in front of you.

“Where’s dad?” you chimed in getting a disappointed look from her. You shouldn’t interrupt her when she talks, you beat yourself suddenly.

“He’s being late, now dig in.” she placed a bowl of rice in front of your face and you did it happily, munching on pork and rice. “This is a great opportunity, I always knew I’ll see you shine on stage, now it’s just the perfect time. All of the hard work I put in you will finally pay off.”

“Mom, it’s still an audition, even if Mrs. Ong asked me to come, it’s an audition. I might not pass. I didn’t, two years ago at JYP, if you remember.” you sighed at the memory of not passing.

“You worked hard, you lost weight and your face got prettier since back then, you’ll be just enough to get casted.”

“Mom!” you exclaimed feeling tired of her being this way. “Don’t.”

“It’s a good thing you got prettier, otherwise all of the work not only me, but you put in, would’ve gone to waste.”

“I don’t want to be prettier, I don’t want to lose weight, I don’t want to go to that stupid school to sing those stupid songs, I don’t want to dance to those songs they make me to. I just want to make friends, I want to be normal.” you jumped up from the table.

“What else do you want?” she chuckled sarcastically at you making you furious.

“I want to date that boy I always liked, I want to do everything my classmates do. Do you know that Hyejin has a boyfriend, she sleeps with him too? And me? I don’t know how to speak to guys because the only man I talked to was a 60 year old pervert who always caressed my thigh right next to my underwear whenever he helped me with stretching. I don’t want anything you’re making me do. Because of you I fucking hate singing and dancing, maybe I should’ve let that old bastard rape me so you’d get back to your senses?”

“Watch your mouth, Y/n.” was all that you mom said. You threw chopsticks that you held on to tightly through your speech unconsciously, running up to your room.

You were 14 and fucking hated every second of your life.

“Y/n, sweetheart, it’s dad. Can I come in?” his soft knocks made your heart warm. You closed the book you were reading and called him to come in. “Hi baby, how are you doing?” he sat on your bed and extended his hand to caress your hair.

“She already told you I’m a disgusting human and you’re here to tell me I’m grounded for a year?” you sighed and looked away. “As if it makes any difference, I’ve lived my entire life as if I’m grounded.” you chewed on your cheek. Silence that fell over your room wasn’t an awkward one, your relationship with your dad was always different. You always wondered how he ended up loving your mom, but then always came to conclusion she probably tricked him into this marriage, and to be fair, you wouldn’t be surprised if she actually did.

“Come here.” his fingers tapped the bed right next to him, and you squeezed your body right next to his, hiding your face in his chest. “I know everything you feel, baby. I know you’re traumatised with your mom’s parenting style, and everything that happened due to that…” you heard him sigh and wondered if he thought about the time you told him about your weird dancing coach. “I always tell you that kids that aren’t allowed to do things usually are the most rebellious ones. And I know that you’re rebellious by nature, you’re my baby girl.” he chuckled and you couldn’t hold back a smile.

“I am.” you mumbled quietly.

“I don’t find it wrong that you want to spend your time with friends and boys in particular, I’d be happy you brought a boyfriend home one day.” you nodded, wondering where he leads this to. “But we both know, moms not going to let you drop everything. She never told you this, right? It was her dream, she spent her entire childhood trying to get in one of the entertainments, everyone refused her, and then there’s you. She put in so much work since the day you were born. She thought through her plan for your life the first week she found out you’ll come to our lifes. Please forgive her, she just lost her senses when you got scouted by JYP.”

“They just asked me to come to an audition, refused me too. I feel like she lost her senses when I was around 4.” he chuckled and pulled you closer.

“Maybe, but it gave her hope that everything wasn’t worthless. That she put in work in you that will pay off. More importantly, you put in so much work, nerves and your entire life to get in. If you put aside your mom, don’t you love to dance, sing, doesn’t it make you happy when you come up with melodies on your piano?”

“It makes me happy when I see your proud eyes at the result of my work. It makes me happy when you sit down with me at the piano and come up with melodies too. You’re the one that helps me to get through difficult days, I don’t know what I’d do without you dad.”

“Oh, baby, I didn’t expect you to say something like this.” you giggled and raised your head to look at him.

“Let’s pretend that I said something you expected.” you leaned back “What would you reply?”

“I was thinking you’d say you like all that you do and I’ll tell you that going to that audition will most likely help you to get out of the cage you’re in. If you’ll pass, another life is going to be right before you. I know for sure you’ll love it. No mom, no music and dance school. You’ll meet people your age, no matter what the outcome is you’ll get extraordinary experience. I usually don’t ask you to do things but I’m asking you to go there. I’m asking you to go not with the same intentions as your mom, I’m asking you to go because I believe in my baby. Your dad caressed your hair and looked you in the eyes.

“Okay… I’ll go.” You nodded after giving the thought a few minutes. “But take me there, come with me, not her.”

“Of course, I’ll come if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Thanks dad.” you wrapped your hands around his neck “I love you.”

“I love you too baby. Any ideas with what you’re going to audition?”

“Hm, I’ll think that through.” you chuckled.

“Do you want me to come in with you or is it too embarrassing to come to an audition with your dad?”

“It’s not.” you smiled shyly “but I’d appreciate you not coming.” he chuckled and nodded understandingly.

“I’ll park my car over the corner and will wait for you at the cafe across the street, okay? Call me if you won’t see me.”

“Okay, dad.” you bobbed your head and undid your seatbelt. “I’ll go.” you smiled.

“No matter what happens, I love you and trust in you.”

“Thank you, dad.” you forced a wider smile and leaned in for a hug.

“Good luck.” you could feel him watch as you ran into the building.

“Excuse me, which floor are auditions?” you asked the security guard at the entrance and he led you quickly to the elevators, pressing the fifth floor for you.

“One of the scouts will meet you at the floor, good luck!” you nodded and gulped while the door was closing.

“Don’t worry, Y/n, it’s fine. You’ll either kill it or embarrass yourself, both are experience, it’s fine.” you squeezed your fists and stared at your reflection in the elevators door.

“Y/n, hi!”

“Mrs. Ong, you’re here?”

“Of course, I scouted most of the boys and girls in here today.” you pursed your lips, looking around “Sit down there, I’ll call for you later. And, good luck, Y/n.”

“Thank you!” you sat down onto the free seat next to a boy around your age.

“You’re here for the audition?”

“Of course.” you turned to look at him. “Why else would I be here?”

“To support someone maybe.” he chuckled and ran his eyes quickly from you onto the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m nervous and talk silly.”

“It’s your first time?”

“You mean the audition?”

“Well obviously, not like I’m asking you if it’s your first time talking.” you chuckled and he looked you in the eyes shyly.

“Yeah, it is. It’s not yours I assume?”

“I had one before, not much experience.”

“Still more than none, I guess that’s why you’re talkative.” he played with his fingers nervously.

“That’s my coping mechanism. I’m scared shitless. If I’m passing I’ll hopefully be happy and if I’m not… well, mom’s going to eat my brains out.” pursing your lips your eyes met his.

“You’re very pretty, and outgoing it seems, I’m sure they’ll like you.”

“Thanks, but talent is what matters. I don’t want to be a pretty doll, I want to be someone worth it. Worth time put in to train me and worth the time of people that could possibly watch me on stage one day.”

“You’re… you’re unique. With the way you’re thinking. Everyone just want to get in here no matter what but you’re different, it’s nice of you to think about things like that.” he smiled. “I’m Jaehyun, by the way.”

“I’m Y/n.” you gave him your hand to shake. “How old are you?”

“15.” you nodded and looked away. “And you?”

“14.”

“You look much younger.”

“You mean childish?”

“No, I mean you look… pure?” he chuckled.

“Maybe I am pure and this is my chance to unwind.” you played with your eyebrows and looked at him expecting his answer.

“Y/n, come with me, it’s your turn.” suddenly Mrs. Ong’s voice made you turn your attention to her and stand up quickly. “I trust in you.” she smiled at you and lead to the door.

“Good luck.” Jaehyun spoke when you stood up. “Hope to see you next time as trainees.”

“Right back at you.” you smiled and paced behind Mrs. Ong.

“Text me every day before you go to bed. Don’t forget to keep the diet, train not less than 2 hours a day.” your mom spoke monotonously, putting the shirts, that you purposefully left in your closet, into the suitcase. “Don’t talk to boys and focus on work. Do everything they want you to do, don’t talk back and be the good girl you always were.”

‘Don’t talk back at her. Two hours. Just two hours before freedom comes.’ you repeated a mantra in your head.‘Keep quiet and nod.’

“You hear me, Y/n? Keep away from boys, they’re not good in general and especially when they’re at the dorm all alone with you.”

“We’re going to live on different floors, mom.”

“Still, we should have a conversation about… sex.” you rolled your eyes and held back a smirk.

“What you want to tell me about it? Details?”

“Y/n! I’m not going to let you leave.”

“Why? No worries mom, if I’m getting a boyfriend, I’m going to let you know about it fourth.”

“Fourth!?!” she exclaimed loudly.

“Me, him, dad and then you.” you forced a sarcastic smile.

“You’re definitely not going anywhere.”

“Honey, please, let’s be supportive. Our daughter’s leaving to Seoul for god knows how many years.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” she nodded quickly. It always surprised you how the tone of her voice changed when she spoke to him. Could she possibly love him more than you?

“I trust you with anything you’ll decide to do. I know you’re responsible and I know you would never make mistakes or anything that I’ll disapprove of.” he pecked your forehead and looked at you “Just during your award speech don’t forget to thank me, okay? Something like ‘I’d like to thank my dad who always took my side’. Okay?”

“Of course, dad, I’ll call you every day, okay?” you bit onto your lower lip to prevent from crying. “I love you.” you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I love you too, baby. I’m going to take your luggage into the car.” his hands let go of you and you watched him disappear behind the door. You walked around the room, staring at every corner of it to keep something in your memories.

“Y/n, I beg you, condoms.” you chocked on air, walking closer to the woman you called your mom.

“Are you possessed?” you chuckled and stood right in front of her. “I’m going to miss you, no matter what.” you smiled and pulled her in a hug, wrapping your hands around her shoulders.

“Good luck.” she sighed and broke off the hug. “Now go, no tears, it’ll make your eyes puffy when you’ll arrive.”

“Okay.” you nodded and left the house.

“This is your room, you’re going to share it with another girl. She’s not here yet. This floor is girls floor. You’re lucky there’s not that many girls, the guys have four people in a room.” you nodded and sat down on the bed. “The rules are as simple as ever. Singing and dancing practices are 6 days a week, multiple variations of lessons are going to be suggested to you next week at the general meeting. Your school transfer papers are ready so you’re all good to go to Seoul’s School of Performing Arts. Wednesday’s are your day offs from practicing. Try to study properly, if you’re going to debut we’ll help you with school. We’ll provide the floor with nanny that’ll cook for you, any other food is prohibited. Your phone is going to be taken from you to completely concentrate on work. You can always come up to your manager if you need to call your parents. No late night outings or anything like that, all of you will be looked after carefully. First of all, almost everyone here are minors, second of all it’s about discipline. If you work hard it’ll pay off with rewards and debuting too. Good luck and take a good rest, you have busy days ahead. Okay?”

“Okay.” you nodded. “I love it here.” you smiled widely.

“Good to know. Don’t feel too lonely, some girls are coming within the week. Three floors lower is boys dorm. You can get to know them for the meantime.”

“I’ll take some rest.” you smiled and felt nervous at a single thought of going to boys floor all on your own.

“For everyone to feel more or less at home, for upcoming two weeks we’re planning dinners for everyone to attend. At 6 today the manager will pick you up to meet everyone either way.” she smiled and turned on her heels to leave you on your own.

“I heard there’s only one girl at the dorms yet.” a guys voice made your heart stop.

“I wonder what she’s like.” The other one replied.

“Maybe not too young.”

“Hopefully.” the voices of the boys made it seem as if they were not much older than you. They laughed hysterically at whatever was said afterwards.

“Worth a shot or not.” someone giggled.

“Shut up, you nasty dickheads.” you hit one guy with your shoulder, walking past them blindly.

There were not more than 10 boys in the hall of the building and they all walked behind you when the manager signalled to follow her. You walked into the bus first, sitting down onto the seat that seemed to you the most attractive.

“Walk past.” you could see a guy trying to sit down with you in the reflection of the window.

“I’m… ugh, I’m not one of the guys who talked about you. I’m… Jaehyun.” his voice made you confused and you turned around immediately to take a look at him. “Do you remember me? The guy with dumb questions at the audition.” he smiled sincerely and you chuckled.

“Jaehyun, I remember.” you smiled.

“Nice knowing you passed.”

“Are we competitors now or what?” you made a low giggle and squinted your eyes.

“I’m not sure we’re bound to fight for one spot. I’m sure you and me are designated to different gender groups.”

“Okay, you can sit with me then.” you tapped the chair and he lowered his body next to you and stared at the window once again.

“I came two days before you. They’re nice, just hormonal… like everyone here, I guess.” he giggled but stopped quickly seeing you unamused. “I mean it, everyone’s just goofy because practicing didn’t start yet for neither of us. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“I don’t care, it’s whatever. Why do you care?” you turned your head to look him in the eyes.

“Because you’re the person I know the longest out of everyone here.”

“Weak convincing skills you have.” you chuckled annoyed and looked away.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you can just tell me if they sent you for whatever. I’ll get it, I had friends at school who hung out with older guys. They told me what boys are like.”

“Oh, no, no. I’m not sent, no girls are here yet, I feel obliged to keep you company.”

“Thank you, Jaehyun.” you smiled and he lit up visibly.

“I wish with all the advances they give us they’d hire people to carry us home after exhausting practicing days too.” Seulgi laughed at your comment and laid her back next to you. “I mean, I had school today and speech class and then vocal lessons for 3 hours and now we’re here. I’m not able to lift myself up from this floor.“

“We have to stand up and get back or we’ll get a strike for coming back home later than allowed.” Irene sighed and sat up next to Lami.

“Girls, hold up, boys manager will come in a minute.”

“Why?”

“No clue.” your coach Chaerin shrugged and waved goodbye at all of you. “Bye.”

“It’s kind of weird. They usually never want us to cross paths.”

“Maybe they’re debuting?” All of you looked at Seulgi.

“That’s not possible.” You shook your head in disbelief, concentrating at one imperfect floor square in the room.

“Hi, everyone.” you raised your head to see the manager lead in the boys like little chicks. You chuckled to yourself at the thought and smiled widely the second you noticed Jaehyun. “Everyone please take a seat.”

“Hi.” he whispered and bumped shoulders with you on accident while sitting down.

“You know why we’re all here?” you whispered into his ear and he shrugged not knowing.

“Okay y’all. All of you here are lucky enough to be picked out as first introduced SM Rookies.” you could hear excited noises all over the room. “I’m going to name your names to make it more official: Irene, Seulgi, Lami, Y/n, Taeyong, Ten, Jaehyun, Mark, Yuta, Jeno, Jisung, Hansol, Johnny and …” she paused and glued all of your attention to her. “And Johnny, yeah, that’s it.” she nodded and raised your head at all of you. “All of you are going to be introduced to the public through the month of December.”

“December?” boys behind you sighed loudly and you turned around to look at them.

“Wait, who’s that? I don’t know them. Yuta, Jeno and Jisung never heard those names before.” you leaned in closer to Jaehyun and he gladly moved closer to you.

“They’ve been here for at least two months or so. Someone’s been really busy to not even notice new people.” he teased and you elbowed him.

“December is so soon.” Lami said out loud and had everyone’s attention on her.

“Oh, my bad.” the manager coughed and ran her eyes over the room. “December of next year. You have over a year to become perfect in every way possible. Please consider the fact final list can be changed due to many reasons. And more importantly, this doesn’t guarantee your debut.”

“How come?” Johnny sighed out loud.

“You’re only going to be introduced as SM Rookies member, not more than that.”

“It’s still cool.” Seulgi told him quickly and looked away.

“I doubt it’s cool for Johnny, he’s been training since forever.“ Jaehyun whispered into your ear quickly.

“I hope for your cooperation guys’, don’t share this information with the rest of trainees yet. We’ll announce it to them later on. Even though I just told you it doesn’t mean you’ll debut, it really is a big step, so I hope you all will work hard. Good luck and as a bonus, all of you are allowed to come back to the dorms at midnight tonight. Come downstairs, there’s a small party organised for you.” she smiled and moved her head in her usual movement that signalled that she was done.

“Can’t we go back home and change clothes? I’d like to look nice for a party.” Lami made everyone chuckle and then disappointed when the manager shook her head no and all you 13 very sweaty but very happy teenagers moved your tired bodies in direction of the first floor.

“Don’t obsess over him.” Irene’s hand laid over your shoulder quickly.

“Over who?” you raised a brow at her.

“Jaehyun. He’s a nice guy I agree but I can tell you have a crush on him and he totally doesn’t.”

“What makes you think I have a crush on anyone? We’re friends, and actually, we’re friends only because he spoke to me first.”

“I’m just saying this because…”

“Because you’re old and experienced?”

“Oh, shut up.” she chuckled and pinched your shoulder. “It’s because we really have no time now to cry over broken hearts.”

“I know, I never had time to cry over broken hearts.”

“I’m sorry.” she caressed you quickly.

“No need, even thought we’re all busy, I’m still happier than at home and have more spare time than at home. Everyone here are working for the same goal as me, so I’m only happy to be around people who understand.”

“Just please, consider my words.”

“He’s a friend, a friend who happens to be a boy, no more than that, okay?” you hugged her with your arm over the waist and the both of you entered the practice room on the first floor that was turned into a party space.

“But how come you never saw them before…?” Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere behind your back when you stood silently staring at new boys.

“Got my eyes set on you only?” you chuckled and regretted saying something like that, maybe it’s a bit too much you thought the next moment.

“Same goes for me.” he chuckled and put his hand over your shoulder.

“I was kidding.” you rolled your eyes and looked at him to see his face.

“I know, I think in the past six months I learned to sense that. I was just playing along you loser.” you chuckled and looked at him.

“Sometimes I think I’m all grown up and practically old, but then I look at Irene, or even Seulgi, Johnny, Taeyong and realise that we’re probably little kids in their eyes…”

“We’re probably old in Jisung’s eyes though.” his high-pitched chuckle made you smile

“How old is he?”

“10.”

“What?” you choked on your coke.

“Everyone were surprised when they found out.”

“Hi.” you looked around and found one of the guys you haven’t met yet next to you. “I’m Yuta. My korean bad, sorry.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n, if you want to, we can speak in English?”

“Okay.” he nodded and extended his hand to shake yours. “I believe you’re pretty.” he continued to speak korean.

“It’s nice of you to say that.” you smiled shyly and pressed your body against Jaehyun’s. “I’m surprised we haven’t talked before. When did you come here?”

“I study korean for 6 months now. I come to Korea 2 months ago. I win SM competition in Japan.” you gave him a smile.

“You’re really good already, you’ll probably beat me soon if you’ll continue studying.”

“I need more korean friends.” he smiled “I have to be perfect in December.”

“I’m sure you’ll be perfect.” you bowed at him lightly and excused yourself.

“Are you okay?” A guy sat down in front of you when he noticed you cry. You hid your face in hair, sitting in the corner of the practice room alone. “Difficult day?” his hand caressed your shoulder and you raised your head to look at him.

“No, I’m fine.” you shook your head a no and hoped it’ll be enough to make him leave but he didn’t move.

“Someone who’s fine isn’t crying on the couch in the corner of a practice room like that.” you stared at him in disbelief.

“Your korean is insane.” you said amazed “i can’t wrap my head around how quickly you learned it” you laughed suddenly, thinking of what you said to him almost a year ago. “Didn’t I say you’d get better than me.”

“You’re joking, it’s a good sign.” he smiled at you sweetly. “And you’re literally saying this to me every time I talk to you.” he chuckled shyly “Half a year left, didn’t I say I have to be perfect.” you nodded and wiped the tears off your cheek. “Tell me what happened? We were told to look after our younger trainees, you basically have to tell me what’s up.” he hit his shoulder with yours to push the truth out of you.

“It was my birthday last week.”

“I know, we threw you a small party, didn’t you like it? I thought Wendy said you’ll love everything she prepared for your birthday?”

“It’s not the party.” you sobbed “Its the outcome. Our manager, she said I’m fat, she said it’s because I had too much food and I should never eat ever again even if it’s my last day in earth. She said she’ll ask nanny to not cook for me and she’ll check my weight herself every day. If I won’t lose it in a month she’ll get rid of me in no time.”

“She probably joked, maybe she was in bad mood and you got under her hand.” Yuta wiped the tear on your chin and you flinched at the touch.

“No, she was serious for sure. She dragged me to check my weight for the past three days, the only thing I ate was water and one small seaweed piece and it’s only different to hundred grams. She just said I’m useless and she’s probably right. Maybe I should leave company.”

“What? No, no, no. You were born to be here if someone needs to go then it’s her.”

“Thank you for listening.” you stood up “I should get back home before I get a strike or something.”

“Let’s go together.” he invited and you had no reason to decline.

“She got especially mad because I fainted…” you whispered when the both of you walked slowly to the dorms.

“What?”

“We practiced the dance for 7 hours straight and I don’t know… I just felt dizzy and then fell. Irene said I dropped dead and she thought I died of heart attack or something. Chaerin called for help and everyone was scared and only our manager shouted at me for being an attention sicker, for being weak. I’m just not used to not eating, I’ll get used to it and then it’ll be okay, I’ll be fine with water only.” you smiled at him and kept on walking when he stopped. “What’s up?” you turned around to face him.

“That’s not normal.”

“Huh?”

“What she wants from you is not normal. You’re beautiful, there’s no way she thinks you have weight to lose. She’s probably bullying you on purpose.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because everyone likes you, people are here to support you, she doesn’t want that, she doesn’t need favourite’s in here.”

“I’m sure it’s not like that.” you shook your head in disbelief.

“Come on.” he extended his hand to you and you took a minute to grab onto it unsure. “There’s street food on the way to the dorms.” he finally said couple of minutes after dragging you behind him.

“I don’t want to.” you tried to stop on your heels but it seemed useless since Yuta didn’t even turn around to look at you. “Yuta, please.” you whined when you could see ajummas with food in a short distance. “I’m going to get in trouble, so much trouble, please don’t.” you were debating whether shedding tears right now was a great idea.

“Two corn dogs and teokbboki, please.” he smiled at the lady and gave her money. You couldn’t work out where he had money from. His eyes ran over you and your face expression probably terrified him. “It’s food, not poison, just eat once with me, please?” Yuta leaned in and hugged you over the shoulders. “I won’t tell anyone and it won’t affect anything, tomorrow is our day off, isn’t it? We can go to a hike and walk it all off, okay?” he smiled at you reassuringly and you knew you’ll look like a fool if you’ll refuse.

“Okay.” you nodded and watched him take the food. “I have school tomorrow though.”

“After school, I’m sure it’ll be okay if we’ll go after you finish.”

“Yeah” you smiled with your lips drawing a thin line.

“Now eat.” he pulled you towards a bench at the park you walked through on your way home and you sat down happily, feeling more than tired from all the practicing. Yuta took a corn dog out of the bag placing it in front of your mouth. Your hands raised automatically to take it from him but his hand pulled away, not allowing you to.

“Bite.” he said quickly and you laid your fingers on your thighs, extending your neck to take a bite. He smiled proudly at you when you chewed and took a bite himself. “Are you from Seoul?”

“No, Ilsan. My parents live there, but I was actually born in Jeju.”

“Island girl.” he smiled and you shivered unknowingly. “I’m from a small town in Osaka.” He sighed and cicadas deafened the silence between you.

“We never actually spoke properly.” you said suddenly.

“I know, you’re usually with girls or Jaehyun…” he took a visible breathe in. “You two are dating, right? Did you tell him our manager bullies you?”

“Oh, no.” you laughed loudly. “We’re not. He’s the guy I met at my audition and he spoke to me when we became trainees because I was the only girl for a couple of days and he felt bad. We just kept on talking to each other, but we aren’t anything besides that…”

“Oh, I’m sorry for saying this.” he widened his eyes and took another bite of the corn dog. “Finish this one.” you munched onto the corn dog while he looked you in the eyes quietly. “You’re just pretty, I thought Jaehyun took you the second he had the opportunity. Don’t think anything, it’s just a thought.” He chuckled noticing you look at him confused.

“Okay.” you nodded “He had no opportunities though.” you chuckled, finishing the food Yuta gave you.

“How come?”

“I’m fifteen and clueless to it all, let’s put it this way. Maybe it’s for the best actually, the less you think of being liked by anyone, liking someone and things like that, they’re taking so much energy, I don’t know how to cope with these things.”

“You’re silly.” he extended a rice cake on a toothpick to you and you sucked it into your mouth with a loud pop. “Still breathtaking though.” he said almost inaudibly.

“Huh?” you looked at him confused but instead of repeating himself he forced you to chew on another rice cake.

“So you never dated anyone?”

“No.” you chewed and forced him to give you another rice cake. “Why are you so into this topic?”

“I’m just trying to keep up the conversation.” he chuckled.

“And did you? Date someone?” you thought your question through again and quickly stopped chewing. “You’re 19 this year and a football player, I’m sure you did. Let’s ask the question the other way, have you dated someone since you came to Korea?”

“No.” he smirked at you for a long time.

“Why?” you picked a rice cake by navigating Yuta’s hand and placed it in your mouth. “I kind of feel bad for all of you, there’s over 20 young men in one dorm, I’m sure y’all are in need of personal space and many more things and they’re not giving you any of it.”

“Aren’t you in the same situation?” his fingers pushed the hair that got into your mouth to the back.

“There’s only 8 of us and we’re girls.”

“What’s is that supposed to mean? You don’t need personal space?” he chuckled and took a couple of rice cakes into his mouth.

“How many times did you see your neighbours jerk off in secret?” you turned to face him properly noticing how he grinned like an idiot at you.

“Quite a few.”

“See, and I never did because we’re not obsessed with something like this. That’s why I feel bad for you boys.”

“What’s your solution?” he looked amused by your words but you didn’t care about it.

“Stop being filthy animals?” you chuckled and he laughed out loud. “Irene always says to not expose too much skin or hormonal boys from three floors under will rub their palms to blood at night.” he laughed so hard you had to take the food from his lap in case he gets it all over himself.

“She’s quite a handful.”

“She tells me to not talk to any of you.”

“Because she sees you’re beautiful and naive.”

“But all of you are practical losers, I mean… none of you hold any kind of danger towards any of us. I mean, the biggest harm you could make is jerk off to images of us if you have enough fantasy.”

“You’re funny, I like you.” he smiled at you heartwarmingly.

“You’re nice company, I like you too.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” he leaned closer and pulled back all in a span of a second.

“I think it’s better we go, I feel like it’s pretty late.” he agreed and stood up next to you, walking in a slow pace a step behind. “You know what I think of sometimes? When we’ll debut, or more likely if, we debut, what would our lifes be like? Will we be able to be with people who we love? Have kids? Or is it going to be all work until the day we die? I can’t help but wonder if everything we’re trying to reach so hard is a curse or a blessing?”

“Maybe it’s both.”

“God, please, if debuting is a blessing, allow me to date Oh Sehun from EXO, god please, I’m not asking for much, just a handsome boyfriend like him to be mine.” you stretched your arms out and raised your head up to the sky, and asked loudly. Yuta stood beside you laughing.

“You’re still a small silly child.” his hand pulled you by the shoulder towards the dorm.

“God, please remember, Oh Sehun.” you laid your palms together and finally looked back down to walk.

“Isn’t he like old.”

“He’s maybe 20.” you nodded. “I don’t think I’ll debut any time soon so maybe I’ll be of age just in time.” Yuta chuckled again and the both of you got home in a great mood.

“Y/n, hey.“ you raised your head when Yuta’s familiar voice called you. “Come here.“ He gestured with his hand vigorously, attracting attention from Lami and Irene that you sat next to.

“What he wants?“ Irene squinted her eyes at you quickly.

“How could I know, it’s not written on his forehead.“ you chuckled and crawled towards him, Johnny and Jaehyun on all fours, feeling too tired to stand up. “What?“ you spoke smiling, when you raised your head and found all of them smiling at you. “What happened?“ You cleared your throat and sat between Johnny and Yuta, crossing your legs.

“That was just funny way of walking.“ Johnny chuckled and looked at Yuta.

“Is everything okay?“ You turned your head to look at Yuta while he was talking.

“Yeah, why?“ you looked at him confused and hoped your face expression would let him know you didn’t want to talk about anything you told him last month in front of these guys.

“You ate lunch, right?“ Your eyes ran around the room to avoid his concerned gaze, your head bobbing positively in reply.

“Why are you asking? I’m always having all of my meals.“ you smiled at him with the sincerest smile you could give him and looked at Jaehyun. “Does he ask you the same things?“

“Me?“ Jaehyun chuckled at you amused.

“I was just hoping I’m not the one he wants to nag on, I guess I’m wrong then.“ You sighed and stretched your arm out to Jaehyun. “Want to walk home together?“ His fingers held you tightly, giving you support to stand up.

“Yeah, I’m almost done for today. Johnny, didn’t you want to go ask our manager about home leave?“

“Yeah, let’s do this now.“ Johnny jumped up quickly and Jaehyun did too.

“I’ll be back in a minute, okay?“

“Okay.“ You nodded satisfied at him and watched Jaehyun get up and leave. When the door behind Johnny closed you didn’t dare to move your eyes to Yuta, feeling how he kept his face directed at you, probably burning a whole in your face with his eyes.

“I’m not surprised.“ He said suddenly and stretched out his legs, finding balance with his palms against the floor behind his back.

“What is that supposed to mean?“ You turned to face him.

“Don’t act all proud when it’s unnecessary.“

“Maybe I am eating, maybe I am not, how do you know? Don’t act like you know everything about me just because you saw me upset once.“

“Dodge Jaehyun.“

“What?“ You chuckled at his proposal. “Arrogant.“

“I meant dodge Jaehyun and I’ll get you food if we’ll get back home together.“ Yuta switched his sitting pose, trying to reach out for your hand.

“What is the under text?“

“I don’t want you to die or get sick, is that enough for one?“

“I’m eating, stop. Focus your brain on something else. It’s sweet of you and all that, but I don’t need anyone to baby me.“ You shook your head and looked away, moving your body a few centimetres form him.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.“ He sighed and reached out for your hand.

“Don’t.“ Irene’s voice hovered over your head and punched Yuta. Metaphorically, of course. “If she doesn’t want you then it’s time to grow brain to accept it.“

“I’m not trying to make her want me, she’s just…“ Yuta sounded sarcastic and you knew that this was a crucial mistake.

“Then don’t reach out to her when she visibly moves away.“ You couldn’t understand why she got all worked up.

“She’s not under your control…“ you find it kinda funny how Irene didn’t let Yuta finish a single sentence, always chiming in half way.

“She’s not under your control either! Think if you’ve been beating around the bush for a while you’re allowed to do anything?“

“What the fuck are you talking?“ Yuta looked furious, standing up and the urge to laugh inside of you faded away.

“You two, please stop.“ You stood up too to attract their attention more. “It’s a misunderstanding.“

“So you want him?“

“What?!?“you exclaimed. “Irene stop thinking every person who I talk to is somehow romantically involved with me. Just stop, I’m serious. I don’t you babying me, it’s embarrassing, when you do that. We were having a conversation, not related to being attracted to each other in whatever way. Why are you always keeping an eye on me? Are you obsessed? And you?“ You turned around to face Yuta. “You think I need your help? Advice? Support? No! You all just have a sick obsession of babying me and it’s not fine at all, go get a child together and take care of it, if the two of you are so focused on it!“ You turned your face to the door when you could hear Jaehyun’s laughter, running towards him quickly, catching him right at the entrance of the room. “Let’s go home, now, okay?“ His eyes ran over the room confused and returned to your teary ones.

“Sure, let’s go.“ He nodded quickly and took your palm in his in reassurance. “What happened?“ Jaehyun asked in a while, after your fingers slip out of his.

“You’re the closest person out of all of them for me.“ You granted him a shy smile. “What you think of me?“

“You’re the closest person out of all of them for me too.“

“It’s not what I meant.“ You shook your head and looked at your shoes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, what did you mean?“

“I think it’s better if I leave. I want to leave.“ You met Jaehyun’s eyes after a long pause.

“It’s not far, let’s just walk quickly.“

“I mean leave company.“

“What?“ He stopped on his heels. “Because of Irene and Yuta?“

“It’s too much stress, I don’t think I should be here, maybe I’m taking someone’s place.“

“I’m sure you don’t, they chose you. Weren’t you named trainee of the month like 6 times?“

“Seven.“ You corrected him quietly, forcing a low giggle out of him.

“See, that never happened to me and I’m not dropping everything I’ve already achieved.“

“It’s because there’s only 8 girls and over 20 guys, competition is harder.“

“Don’t say that about your achievements.“

“Jaehyun…“ you shook your head. “Go back to the dorms.“

“No chance I’m going there without you.“

“I’m just going to walk around the city a little, I promise I’ll come back.“ You rubbed his arm reassuringly.

“You say I’m the closest person for you and don’t even invite me… I’m offended.“ He shook his head and made a hurt face expression on his face.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.“

“I’m not going to let you get in trouble alone.“

“Stubborn.“ You smiled at his persistence.

“Learned it from you.“

“Let’s go.“ You grabbed his palm and pulled him to go with you.

“Where to?“ he asked excitedly and you chuckled at him.

“Dorms. If we’re going to sneak away like that, we’ll totally get busted.“ You sighed loudly hearing Jaehyun laugh behind you.

“Did you…“ you cleared your throat and it gave Yuta time to turn around to face you “Did you get your ticket home yet…?“ He looked at you confused and you didn’t blame him. Not a single sigh towards him in almost a month and there you are talking to him all of a sudden all by yourself.

“Why?“

“I… I thought you’re leaving…“

“Why does it matter even if I am?“ He squinted his eyes at you and you felt hurt, but moreover you felt like you deserved it.

“I just thought you’re going to fly back home, I thought you’re hyped about it, that’s it…“ he looked at you with no emotion and continued to eat his rice. “I wanted to say I’m sorry earlier, but I was scared you’ll refuse me… You were just kind towards me and I’m an ungrateful bitch.“ You perched your lips when Yuta took a glance at you. “I never had friends, I don’t know how to take their kindness… my only friend in the past 14 years was my dad, because my mom constantly terrorised me to everything she couldn’t do in her life. I only made friends when I came here. You, and Irene too, just worried too much, I know. I’m sorry…“ you sighed and looked at your knees. Yuta kept on eating his rice with spam as if you were non-existent. “Can a have a bite?“ You caught his attention when he raised a piece of spam to his mouth. “You heard me, I saw you flinch. Now feed me.“ You moved closer to his body, pressing your thigh against his and opened your mouth with a sound as if you had your throat checked up. He turned his head to the side and bit onto his lip not being able to hold back a smile. The next second you were chewing onto the meat. “Rice too.“ He snorted at you but placed the spoon in your mouth regardless.

“Why didn’t you leave?“ The sound of his voice in an empty kitchen made you shiver. It was too long since you heard him talk and you couldn’t hold back a smile when you heard his voice.

“You’re saying all of the boys left?“ You turned to look at him excitedly.

“I said nothing like that.“

“Oh, maybe it’s Jaehyun who told me.“ You stole Yuta’s chopsticks that he laid on the table and munched onto his food quietly.

“Did all the girls leave?“

“No, Wendy’s here.“

“Oh, okay.“ He nodded “Everyone else left, you’re right.“ he inhaled and looked at your mischievous smile.

“It feels like we’re in Harry Potter and everyone left for the Christmas break and we’re the only ones left because I have nowhere to go and your family went away.“ Yuta laughed at you. “It’s actually fun, except for the fact its autumn and they only let us leave because it’s possibly our last chance to breathe in fresh air as simple humans.“

“My flight is tomorrow night, you should go back home too. Isn’t Ilsan near Seoul?“

“It is, but I don’t want to.“ You looked away from him.

“You told me your dad’s…“ you interrupted him the moment you got an idea.

“Hey! We’re all alone in a gigantic apartment. We can do literally anything. Let’s do something nasty.“ You made a movement with your hands all the villains did in movies, thinking of what possibly you could be doing.

“What is nasty in your opinion?“ Yuta’s eyes ran over your face.

“Show me Jaehyun’s room.“ his laughter was probably heard by Wendy three floors above you.

“Why?“

“I’m going to leave a note on his bed that he’s a stinky poo.“

“Very nasty of you.“ He shook his head as if he agreed but you knew for sure he faked it. “Maybe it’s better we watch something and call it a day.“ His fingers took the chopsticks from you.

“Show me your room then?“ You asked mindlessly.

“Oh no, it’s my private space.“

“Yeah private space of you and three more guys.“ Your feet made you stand up quicker than your brain worked. “To the left or to the right?“ You asked and looked for his reaction but he didn’t give you any. “Okay, I’ll start from the left. I’ll have to inspect all the rooms to see which one is yours.“ You wiggled your eyebrows and moved in direction of the first door.

“And how are you going to find out which room is mine?“ his laughter confused you, you wondered if you randomly found out which was his on the first try.

“The pillow always smell like its owner.“ you opened the door quickly and felt weird. Maybe it is wrong to go over all of their rooms while they’re obscene.

“How exciting it must be to smell over 20 pillows, huh?“ You turned your head around at him and chuckled. “Don’t be surprised if there’ll be a weird rumour about you later on.“

“I have a feeling I’m in your room, you’re too nervous.“ You turned around when you could hear him approach. He leaned onto the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “Is that your bed, should I start my inspection?“ You wiggled your nose at him and turned away to look for signs. You bent to see maybe on the wall next to the lower bed they had something stuck on the wall or something, but there was no sign at all. Your heart dropped to your feet, when you felt Yuta bump into you and grab you by your elbows, making you stand with your back close to him. “What? It’s yours?“ You couldn’t sense him get serious, laughing still.

“I’ll show you the room, fine.“ You clapped your hands, feeling Yuta tug you to walk in that position before him. “But you’re going to guess which bed is mine. If you’re wrong…“ he gulped above your ear “then you’re going back to Wendy, okay?“ you laughed at his conditions but agreed nonetheless. His hands let go of you the moment you stood in front of the first door on the right. You laughed at yourself for actually thinking you guessed at the first try and reached out for the handle, opening the door and walking in quickly. The gut feeling of yours told you Yuta would probably pick his bed on the lower level of the bunkbeds they had in each room. Lowering your head to see for any signs of the boy that stood behind you.

“I’ll lay on the bed I think is yours.“ You sighed and stood in the middle to intrigue him or whatever. You probably looked idiotic and regretted not having Haechan around you for moral support. When it felt like you should make up your mind you laid onto the left bed randomly, you tried to seem confident, even though you chose it cluelessly. Yuta chuckled at you and walked in your direction. “I am right, right?“ You asked excitedly and looked at him, sitting up.

“Hm, what if I led you to the wrong room on purpose?“ His smirk made you realise how foolish you were to believe him, sighing in disappointment. “Close your eyes, I’ll let you know.“ You did as he wished, feeling his body weight on the mattress next to you. His hand brushed against your thigh and you made a weird noise, shivering at the unexpected feeling. Yuta’s bright laughter filled the room and you couldn’t hold back from smiling. The silence ate you alive and it felt like forever since he sat down.

“Don’t tease, I want to know.“ You could feel him lean in and you perked up your ears, excited to hear the answer.

His breathing seemed heavier than usual and you wondered if it only felt this way because you never had his face this close in such silence. You bit onto your lip and wanted to look at him to scold, when he reminded you once again to keep them closed as if he could read your thoughts and you nodded. His body shuffled and the moment after your insides dropped down to your butt. His fingers ran through your cheek carefully, gently placing his fingers behind your ear, leaving his thumb to caress the soft flesh of your cheek. He pulled your face towards him in a quick but very careful motion and now his breathing made you feel hot. You gulped and found your throat dried out.

“Do you think you’d feel wrong if I kissed you?“ His lips were right in front of your ear, brushing against it from the way his lips pronounced specific letters. Your hand grabbed onto his arm unconsciously and he eased his featherlight hold in case you wanted him to let go. You shook your head a no. “Do you… Can I kiss you then?“ He noticed your eyes flutter “Don’t open your eyes yet.“ he sighed and ran his thumb over your cheek.

“I…Yes“ You whispered breathless. He made you feel hot, he made your heart beat in your ears and you just felt like staying in this position forever, right until the moment his lips laid gently atop of yours and you felt like you might’ve experienced a stroke. You couldn’t hold back a light gasp when his lips moved against yours and suddenly the embarrassment hit you like a rock. You wondered if he forgot you never kissed before or if he thought you at least knew how it worked but the fear you experienced from this proximity made all your inner senses numb. If he’d decide to ask you your name right now you most likely won’t be able to find an answer.

“Are you scared?“ He moved his face away just enough to be able to talk. You barely found strength in you to shake your head no and felt his lips in the corner of yours, pecking. “What did you feel then? Open your eyes.“ His nose brushed against your cheek forcing all of your insides to do a flip. “Did this make you excited?“ You nodded quickly and Yuta gulped in a smirk, running his fingers through your hair. “I’m glad, I’m glad I can make you feel excited.“ He smiled sincerely and leaned in once again to lightly brush his lips against yours.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough.“ You mumbled under your breath when Yuta’s hand angled your head differently.

“Mmh, it’s not true.“ He took a deep breath in, connecting his lips to your jaw. “If you like me too, it’s more than enough.“ Your fingers finally let go of his arm when he blew onto the wet spot on your neck, you couldn’t believe how heavy it made you feel in your lower stomach, grabbing onto his shoulder for support.

“You like me?“ You asked him as if it wasn’t clear enough already.

“Yes, since the first day I saw you from afar. I wanted to tell you I want you to be mine but I had no idea how to say anything in Korean except a simple hi.“

“Has it not been over a year since we’ve known each other?“ You looked at him confused.

“At first I thought you dated Jaehyun and then… then I realised I’m not as cool to do that. I just thought being friends is better than being ignored by you in case you turned me down, but not now, not when you lay in my bed.“

“So it is your bed?“ You smiled proudly.

“You silly girl, I’m trying to confess my feelings to you.“ He smiled at you sweetly and pinched your cheek.

“I just… I don’t know what to tell… nothing like this ever happened to me.“

“You can say that you like me too, or that you don’t. Anything is fine.“

“This room is too warm…“

“It isn’t, you’re just too worked up from me.“

“Don’t get your hopes high, it’s just warm here.“ he chuckled lowly and kissed you once again. “And I never kissed before, it’s only natural to get nervous, no matter who it happens with.“

“Okay, I agree.“ He nodded and moved back from you and you felt like you did something wrong so you caught his hand with yours.

“But you made me feel warm here.“ Your eyes glued his while laying his hand on your lower stomach. “I feel it because I’m attracted to you.“ You said quietly and moved your face in front of his. “Promise to make me the greatest kisser?“ You bit onto your lip and couldn’t help your heart from fluttering when he smiled back at you.

“I’ll try my best for you, baby.“ He laid your lips atop of yours once again and you couldn’t hold back your excitement.

“Jaehyun-ah!“ You exclaimed excitedly and waved at your friend. It’s been the longest in past two years you haven’t seen him.

“Hi.“ he dropped his body on the seat next to you and looked at you weirdly. “Why are you looking at me like that?“ He squinted his eyes at you and made you chuckle.

“Did you enjoy spending time at home?“

“We went on vacation.“

“I envy you!“ You sighed and looked at your hands that were laying on your knees. “You should’ve asked me to go with you! It must’ve been nice!“ You hit his arm playfully and leaned in more to look him in the eyes.

“Didn’t you go home? I would’ve taken you with me if I knew you want to.“ You made a cute sound, wrapping your hands quickly around his shoulders. Your head rested against his shoulder, while your eyes watched the door carefully.

“Did you see Yuta?“

“Yuta?“ his arm that crawled slowly onto your waist let go of you, and you sat back up.

“Yeah.“

“Why?“ he seemed surprised and you tried to remember if you two ever spoke in front of Jaehyun.

“He said he’ll bring Japanese sweets for me, so I’m wondering if he’s back or not.“

“Oh, okay.“ Jaehyun nodded and turned to watch who entered the room “I don’t know actually if he’s back, I didn’t see him yet.“

“Didn’t see who?“ Ten sat down on the right to Jaehyun and stared at you.

“Yuta.“ You said carelessly and sat deeper into the seat.

“Ask John, they’re sharing room.“ Ten looked at Jaehyun probably thinking he was the one who searched for him.

“Why everyone’s late?“ You tried to switch the topic, counting people in the room “There’s like half of us… Did you see new trainee’s by the way?

“No, not yet.“

“I met the girl that came this week, and a guy Donyoung, he said he came 2 weeks ago but I never saw him when I was at the…“ you almost said at the boys dorm but stopped yourself halfway.

“When you were where?“ Jaehyun’s attention was caught on you and it made you feel nervous. You couldn’t come up with anything that you could say.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.“ Irene, Seulgi and Wendy ran in quickly, sitting themselves in the same row with you.

“Where did you three go after practice?”

“Oh…“ Seulgi sighed and you would lie if you didn’t sense something weird in the way they looked at each other.

“We ran into Sooyoung, trainee girl we run into sometimes in the practice room, remember? We chatted a little and lost track of time.“ Irene chuckled and caressed your knee in reassurance.

“Oh, yeah. I heard she’s going to debut in that girl group they talked about.“

“Huh?“ Wendy looked at you confused “You heard about it?“

“Of course.“ You smiled widely. “I so wish all of us will get into that group. It’s going to be so much fun to debut together.“ You could feel your heart beat faster at a single thought of debuting.

“I know, so much fun.“ Seulgi smiled back at you looking away when Irene gave her a look.

“Oh, manager’s here.“ Ten pointed out and made everyone shut their mouths.

“Seems like everyone’s here, great.“ She quickly ran her eyes over the tops of your heads and you couldn’t help but wonder how is that enough for her to recognise all of you.

“I’m sorry, Yuta is actually not here yet, I heard his flight is pretty late.“ The manager sighed disapprovingly at Johnny and paused.

“Well, he should’ve planned everything so he would not be late to an important meeting with everyone. Didn’t I say that everyone should be back by 5?“ Your eyes ran over the floor.

“I’m sure if there was an earlier flight, he would’ve came in time.“ You whispered to yourself madly, not finding enough courage to say something aloud.

“I’m sorry.“ Yuta ran into the room quickly, trying to catch his breath and you almost jumped up from your seat for whatever reason. Your eyes followed him quietly, watching him pick an empty seat way too far for you to watch him comfortably. He breathed heavily and tried to keep quiet at the same time, while the manager stared at him furiously but all you could think about was him turning his head to find you, but he didn’t.

“Do you understand that allowing all of you to go back home is a huge bonus? It’s a privilege we gifted you as payment for your hard work. What next? Going to be late for schedules? You do realise that there’s over 10 people waiting specifically for you? Do you understand that staff at schedules is not going to wait for you like all of us did here? You’re a no one and will always stay as no one if you’ll keep this disgusting behaviour.“

“I’m sorry.“ he repeated again and lowered his head.

“Foreigners like you always seem to think they’re needed here when in fact it’s you who needs us so next time find your lost conscience and get here in time. Maybe you forgot that I can get your Japanese ass out of the Rookies list? Out of the whole company too?“ You bit onto your lip so hard you could feel it start bleeding.

“Please stop.“ You cried out loud and Jaehyun grabbed your hand harshly to keep you quiet.

“Y/n, you have something to say I see?“

“We’re not dogs.“ You stood up and noticed how everyone had their heads lowered.

“Y/n, please sit down.“ Jaehyun pulled onto your hand, whispering to you same three words.

“You’re the only manager that treat us like dogs. We are humans, some of us are probably much better than you are, that’s why you’re bullying us.“

“Get out.“

“Y/n, please say you’re sorry and sit down.“ Irene whispered to you too.

“I will gladly leave and go to Lee Soo Man or whoever there is you’re scared of. I’ll go and tell them.“ You pushed Jaehyun from you and walked quickly towards the door.

“If you’re leaving this door don’t even dream of ever debuting in your entire life.“ She spoke as if she put dots between every word in her sentence. You turned to face the room and got caught up in Yuta’s stare. He lowered his head like everyone else but still was able to look at you from under his forehead. Barely visible movement of his head and you lost your confidence in a second. He didn’t want you to go and he showed it once again with his head movement. “Sit down now and I’ll pretend you never opened your mouth.“ You could sense her fear, if she didn’t feel threatened by you she would not act this way, you just had the feeling.

Yuta’s fingers tapped an empty seat next to him in a swift motion and you quickly sat down next to him, not feeling like crawling over all those people back to Jaehyun. You knew it was embarrassing, making a scene and backing away is embarrassing. You couldn’t hold back tears that prickled your eyes, wiping them quietly while pretending you were listening to the manager’s speech.

“You’re idiotic.“ Jaehyun ran to you with the speed of lightning. “What if she would’ve done what she promised?“ He scolded you in front of everyone. The manager left but everyone still felt pressed down to their seats not knowing if your idea to tell someone about her bullying is a great idea or not.

“So you disagree with me?“ You stood up to face Jaehyun properly “You think I’m wrong for saying we’re not dogs? All of you, right? Scared for your asses to be dumped out of here. I’m the only one who’s not afraid then, sweet. A whole bloody room of pathetic losers!“ You shouted and felt even more pathetic than you thought they were.

“No, Y/n, I agree with you… but there should be a better way to this than blowing up in the middle of the practice room.“ Johnny spoke out of all of them.

“Y/n, let’s think and work this out peacefully.“ Taeyong suggested from next to you. “I agree with you, what she said to Yuta is not how she should talk to us. It could’ve been any of us.“ Jaehyun rubbed your arm and hugged you from behind with his arm, his other slipped down to hold your palm.

“He’s right. We need to go back… school homework is not going to disappear on its own.“ Jaehyun pulled onto your hand.

“Are you okay?“ You asked Yuta carefully, leaving Jaehyun ignored.

“I am.“ Yuta nodded and closed his eyes “Japanese ass and foreigner are actually the nicest insults I’ve heard from her.“ He chuckled and looked you in the eyes as if he heard something funny.

“I’m sorry.“ You glued your eyes to the floor, wishing that people around you disappeared, wishing that there was only Yuta and you, wished that he’d kiss you the way he did it two weeks ago, that evening, before he left back home. There wasn’t a night when you went to bed and haven’t thought of the kiss, there wasn’t a day you didn’t think of hugging Yuta, because the sudden realisation you never even hugged him pained you terribly.

“Let’s go?“ Jaehyun pulled onto your hand making you upset with the fact punching him right now would probably look weird. You looked around the room and noticed how almost everyone have left to dorms, except a small group of people.

“Hey, I thought we can tell you, we’re having something like a little party in our room since everyone’s back and there’s only a month left. Want to come too?“ Mark said suddenly and you looked at him confused.

“It’s just me, Mark, Johnny, Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun and you, if you’ll come.“ Hyuck added quickly.

“Can you please bring Koeun with you?“ Mark said suddenly, forcing giggles out of all of you.“

“If she’’ll agree, okay, I will.“ You smiled and nodded.

“Where the two of you are going?”

“Mart, need anything?“ Koeun said carelessly to not draw attention.

“Are you two not scared of getting scolded?” Wendy asked impressed.

“Koeun got sent money from parents, she wanted to buy sweets for our choreography teacher.”

“Yeah, I did.” she nodded quickly and Wendy shrugged, opening the door to her room.

“What if she’ll decide to check on us in fifteen?”

“Wendy don’t care big time.” you rolled your eyes and waved Koeun away.

“Okay.” her head bobbed as you two exited the apartment, heading straight to the stairs that would take you three floors lower. “Why you didn’t invite other girls?” she asked jumping onto each stair.

“Because it’s a secret party. Mark probably invited me last minute because he wanted me to…” you squeezed your eyes at her in a second. “D’you like anyone?”

“Like in what way?”

“Would you kiss anyone?”

“Y/n, what you’re saying!” she made a high peached sound and slapped your shoulder. “Would you?” she asked a moment later and a smile you gave her could only be called as an embarrassing one. “Did you already?” she jumped up holding onto your hand in a painful squeeze.

“I…” you opened your mouth to speak but got interrupted but Koeun.

“I just KNEW you and Jaehyun are the cutest couple ever.”

“What?” you chuckled and pushed her off your shoulder. “I never kissed Jaehyun.” you rang the bell and the door got opened way too quickly for you to not have a jump scare.

“Jaehyun what?” Taeyong asked as he met you with his wide eyes smiling.

“I’m wondering if Jaehyun will sing the song with me.”

“What song?” you couldn’t understand why Taeyong got so invested in your made up story, so you just bent to undo your converse that you wore specifically to walk the stairs because they looked the most decent with your outfit. “We should be quiet, we didn’t tell anyone. It’s in Yuta’s, Johnny’s, Marks and Donghyuck’s room…” watching you undo your shoes.

“What do you have for drinks and food?” Koeun asked excitedly.

“Not much, I didn’t actually check what they brought.” his head turned away when all of you heard a thud on one of the doors. “Shit.” he whispered and froze, you froze too but then thought maybe it’s better to grab Koeun’s hand and run towards the room. You did so and opened the door loudly, making all of the boys freeze.

“Got scared, losers?” you smirked and moved out of the way when Taeyong entered the room too.

“How… how did you know which room is Johnny’s room?” he stared at you confused.

“I heard noises coming from them, you don’t need to be a genius for that.” you bumped your fist into his shoulder lightly and met with Jaehyun’s eyes. He stretched out his hand and you took it gladly, sitting down by his side. You couldn’t help but beam at the way Mark shyly invited Koeun to see next to him. You met eyes with Johnny, who looked more like a proud dad and you had to break eye contact when Yuta moved next to Jaehyun. You looked at him and almost said hi, only to notice that his eyes lazily brushed past you. You felt like someone pinched you and turned to look at Jaehyun who’s smile only grew bigger when his eyes met yours.

“What was the initial plan for the party?” you whispered into his ear like you always did. Jaehyun’s hand slid down your body to find support for him by resting against the floor next to your side.

“I don’t know.” his nose hit your cheek on accident and the both of you laughed loudly.

“Johnny, what’s the plan?”

“Chatting, music and I actually brought ton of food.” he stood up and his tall figure was enough to grab a bag that hid from your eyes on the second level of the bunkbed.

“I thought you guys have something stronger.” Koeun said quietly looking at Johnny.

“What you mean by that?” Mark tried to keep the volume low too.

“Alcohol?” she blinked multiple times.

“Aren’t you like… 14?”

“You’re 13.” she fought Donghyuck for some reason and you turned away the moment their fight got even more pointless and even more heated.

“Want to eat something?” your head shook a quick no at Jaehyun and you looked at your knees. You’ve never been to such a party before but you were pretty sure it could get on the list of the lamest gatherings of 2013 for sure. “I have a lot of board games in my room.” Jaehyun cleared his throat to talk louder. “If anyone wants…”

“I want.” you nodded quickly and he stood up, leaving your back without support from his arm.

“Anyone else?” your eyes ran over the room of unamused by this idea teenagers.

“Ugh… I guess you can bring them and we’ll see.” Taeyong suggested and you perched up your lips.

“Can you help me? There’s quite a few.” you agreed and stood up next to him, exiting the room and following him behind.

“Who do you share your room with?”

“Taeyong, Jeno and Hansol.”

“They’ll feel uncomfortable, I’ll wait outside.”

“Okay.” you nodded and stood next to the door like you were on the watch. Jaehyun took quite a few minutes and you wondered if he got in trouble. Your head immediately turned to the right when you could hear the designated party rooms door open. Yuta walked towards the entrance quietly, not giving you a single glance.

“Come with me.” his voice was emotionless while he put his shoes on.

“I’m waiting for Jaehyun.”

“Come with me.” he repeated monotonously.

“Where to?”

“Mart, come on, put your shoes on quickly.” his hand pulled you towards your shoes and you began to put them on.

“But Jaehyun…” you whispered as you tied your shoe laces.

“Y/n…?” he finally exited the room with a whole lot of board games with him.

“I…Yut…”

“She’ll help pick food at the mart, don’t worry I’ll bring her back to you quickly.” Yuta tugged on your forearm and you exited the apartment while staring Jaehyun in the eyes apologetically.

But as soon as the door closed, there wasn’t a single thought of Jaehyun left. Your head turned into Yuta’s direction in anticipation but instead of catching Yuta’s eyes in response, you were met with the back of his head. His hand let go of you to press the elevator button and the two of you stood quietly next to it.

“Why did you ask me to come…?” you broke off the silence when the two of you weren’t far from the designated shop. If it didn’t weigh on him, it totally did weigh on you. You couldn’t guess he’d want to act quiet after the kiss you shared, you couldn’t wrap your head around it because every time you’d get any sort of reminder of Yuta you’d feel fireworks of excitement in your chest.

“To help me pick food at the mart.” his fingers wrapped around the handle and he opened the door, letting you to come in first. “You can choose anything you’d want to eat. Anything you and Koeun would want to eat.” he corrected him quickly.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Even his sarcastic laughter and smile made your heart sink.

“We don’t want anything.”

“It’s a lie. Come.” his hand pulled you to the beverages stand. “Juice, coke, soda?” you lowered your head and shook it. “Go pick, don’t make me annoyed.” his hand laid on your shoulder and squeezed it. “Come on.” he said softer and you thought to yourself that maybe it’s his way of showing care. Maybe with food he wants to let you know he likes you the way he meant it that evening. Your fingers reached out for two grape tasted sodas. “You can take more if you want to.”

“Shouldn’t we take some back for the boys?”

“I’m not obliged to buy them shit.” he chuckled.

“Can I take one more, for Jaehyun?”

“Yeah, sure.” he nodded and watched you get the drink.

“Do you not want some?”

“I’ll take what I want, don’t worry.” he bobbed his head at you and pushed you to walk forward, by laying his palm on your back. “Do you want snacks?”

“Just take anything you’d like.”

“You’re eating, right?” he looked at you, taking packs of jelly and crisps.

“I am, stop asking this every time. I didn’t tell you because I wanted whole world to know.”

“Okay.” his nod made you believe the topic was closed and sealed for a while.

“Can you take those shrimp chips? Jaehyun loves them.”

“Yeah.” he nodded and the two of you kept on walking around the shop. Yuta forced you to get ridiculous amount of snacks enough for two shopping bags, that each of you carried back to the dorms. You slowly moved your feet not knowing how to ask Yuta questions, how to get the weight on your shoulders out of your chest. He opened his mouth as if he could hear your thoughts, speaking.

“Are you, by any chance… in love with Jaehyun?”

“I thought we were past that.” you sighed and stopped in front of the building. Going up would mean you two are going to get back to all your friends. “I thought you know who I like.”

“You’re always talking about him, I was just thinking there’s a chance you had feelings for him deep down of you.”

“Why?” for some reason it sounded like Yuta was upset at your reply. “I… I was thinking of you… all those days. I was thinking when you’d come back how could we sneak away. You asked me to go with you and I thought because you missed me too and maybe wanted to kiss me… but I don’t think you did think of any of it.”

“Y/n, I did think of you and the kiss too…” he finally took a look at you and you took a step closer.

“I think I do really like you.” you whispered and stood on your tiptoes to match Yuta’s height.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about when I asked you to come with me.” his fingers held onto your shoulder and he forced you to step back. “I think this is kind of wrong. I know I initiated all of it when you just wanted to see my room, but I think I lost my senses and I should say that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“For getting your hopes high. There’s too many boundaries for all of it to go on.”

“I don’t understand what boundaries you’re talking about.” your eyes blinked quickly and you couldn’t believe you were feeling hurt as much as you did right now.

“You’re literally 15. I don’t know where was my brain, but I’m not going to seduce a fifteen year old to be with me.”

“Didn’t you say you like me? From the first day…?”

“I do like you it’s just that we’re not going to work out right now… you’re technically a child, I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I think it’s the best way. I still want to be your friend, I still want to take part in your life and I…”

“So I’m a child?” you interrupted him when your brain finally processed what he did.

“I mean you..” you couldn’t hear what he tried to say when you felt furious.

“Oh, I’m a child, so you decided to deal with this how grown ups like you deal with kids - bought me shit ton of sweets so I’ll eat them and forgive you for whatever shit you’ll try to say? Is that why you insisted so much on buying food? Take your bag and eat it yourself! Don’t try to talk to me ever again, I’m a child who you kissed. I’m sure they’ll kick you out if everyone at the company will find out.” you shoved the bag into his chest and walked quickly inside of the building.

“Y/n, please wait. I didn’t want to fight, I’m doing this for the better. For the both of us. You’re probably going to debut in that girl group next year and things will get messy. I don’t want us to drown, please.”

“I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. Take what I said before as a gift for your tremendous ego.”

“Where are you going?” he walked up the stair behind you.

“My room.”

“Come back to Jaehyun, he’s going to get suspicious.” you breathed heavily and could not agree that Yuta was right about it. You turned to enter the floor with the boys dorm at and waited for Yuta to open the door. He let you in first and without giving his presence any sort of attention, you took your shoes off quickly, running into the room.

“Where did you lose Yuta and food?” Johnny asked loudly and Haechan chuckled.

“He’s behind.” your eyes ran over the room, noticing Mark having a guitar in his hands and Jaehyun sitting with his games on the bed, sorting out cards from one of them. “Did you already play?” you say next to him and watch his fingers move over the cardboard.

“No, no one wanted so I’m just sorting out things.” he seemed visibly upset and it made you upset too.

“Hey, let’s play together?”

”You don’t have to pretend you want to play with me.”

”Jaehyun.” your hand laid atop of his and he raised his eyes to look at you. ”I never lied to you and I’m not planning on starting doing so. Closest person out of everyone here, and well… probably in the whole entire world, remember?” he nodded vigorously at you and finally laid cards with characters drown on them into its place.

”What you want to play?” Your eyes quickly ran over the boxes laying over your best friend.

”Halli Galli? I’m not that much of board game pro.”

”I’ll teach you. I’ve always played games on the weekends with my parents, and sometimes with friends too. It’s fun and helps you to not think about things. It always helped me to get my mind off the upcoming basketball games.” Jaehyun sounded excited while saying all of these things and you couldn’t help yourself but smile at him.

”You’re really passionate about it. There’s not that many 16 year old guys who openly enjoy board games.” You chuckled lowly and looked around to see that no one actually payed attention to you two.

”I’m not openly enjoying board games, I just thought I should bring them here for boring evenings. You’re the only one who knows my secret, shhh.” he raised his pointing finger to his lips, leaning in closer to you to giggle in unison.

”Okay, I’ll do my best to keep it.” you sat back straight and reached for the cards, setting up the bell between you two. The game went by quickly and you couldn’t help but exclaim in pain every time Jaehyun’s hand landed on top of yours on the bell.

”Are you a slow poke?” you laughed at him when for the fifth time in a row Jaehyun was slower than you.

”You’re too quick, give in once.” He whined and once you two placed your cards, you reached for the bell and came first.

”You’re totally a slow poke!” You laughed loudly. ”We should’ve come up with a penalty.”

”What else do you want from me? I already lost.” Jaehyun dropped his back onto the headboard in annoyance and you couldn’t help but lean in to him to hug his disappointment away.

”Come on Yuno-ya” you forced him to move his body when you fell next to him and hugged. ”Do you not want to hug your misery away with your favourite bestie.” You chuckled and felt his hands wrap around you for a second before he pushed you to sit back up.

”Don’t call me Yuno.” He squeezed his eyes at you and began putting all the cards together.

”Why is that?” You chuckled at his antics.

”I’m mad at you for winning, don’t try to get under my skin.”

”Now that you’re grumpy like that I’m not missing my chance to tease you.” his sigh was loud enough for the whole room to hear you. ”Yuno.” You stretched your back and met eyes with Yuta, who you’re pretty sure unknowingly sucked all of the happiness out of your chest. ”I’ll go back.” you announced aloud. ”Eun-ah, are you going to stay for a while or…?”

”I’ll…” she gulped and you could feel she wanted to stay.

”You can stay for as long as you want to.” Yuta said to her but looked at you.

”Okay, I’ll go myself then.”

”Come on, Y/n, stay a little longer, we only played one round.”

”Kids should be sleeping by now and I’m a child so I should head to bed.”

”You’re a child?” Johnny chuckled ”Who said that bullshit?”

”Someone did.” You shrugged and walked towards the door. ”Have fun and good night.” You waved at everyone and left.

December came quickly, and with having your debut as a Rookie right around the corner your whole life got even more turned upside down that it already was.

Getting back to practice after your ‘privileged’ days off felt good, mood of every trainee raising at the thought of upcoming debut, so dorm was mostly filled with teenagers who’s heads were in the clouds.

But more importantly, all of you practiced so hard the only thing you did besides that was sleep. It helped to wash away thoughts of Yuta off your head. Sometimes you’d still catch yourself going back to his lips on yours, reminiscing of what it felt like, what he tasted like, but then you just talked yourself out of it. You were crying over a crush you never even realised you had before he made a move. You were glad now that the two of you left it as it is. At the end of the day, he maybe was right, that things would get messy eventually.

“It’s tomorrow.” you ran into Jaehyun on your way to the dorm, feeling his fingers wrap around yours. “Can you believe it’s tomorrow.” he repeated himself.

“Why are you so nervous?” you chuckled and squeezed his hands back. “They’re just going to post our photos on Facebook.”

“Aren’t you nervous of what people will think?”

“Should I?” you laughed at him and he let you go.

“You’re right, I probably shouldn’t too.” he inhaled loudly.

“I didn’t mean it like that…” You gulped and got back closer to him. Maybe you shouldn’t have shoved your fake confidence in his face, you were maybe more nervous than he was, but showing it meant being weak, and you hated being weak even if it was in front of Jaehyun only. Being weak lead you to believing that Yuta wanted you and were promising yourself to not ever show any type of weakness. “Did you film a singing video?” you asked to move his mind onto something else. “Or a dancing maybe?”

“Did you?”

“Ugh, yeah, last week we went around streets and they shot a quick video of me singing. I wasn’t told much but it’s for their YouTube.”

“Nice… I wasn’t asked for any of that… what if everyone did and I’m just an outcast… I knew I needed practicing and I knew I need to…”

“Jaehyun-ah?”

“Mmh?” he shot his head up out of trance.

“I’m sure you’re perfect, okay?”

“Don’t try to comfort me.”

“What is up with your self esteem?”

“Whatever.” he waved you away and turned to walk.

“Huh? What’s that?” you tried to lift his mood up by giggling. “Want me to hold your hand tomorrow when they’ll post it?” you hung on his hand hidden in the pocket getting outside.

“I do.” he looked you dead serious in the eyes and you swallowed a chuckle.

“Are you actually scared?” you asked him softly and his nod made you regret your previous laughter and stop walking. “Okay, I’ll hold your hand, you don’t have to worry. I’m always around when you’ll need it.” you noticed his ears turn the slightest shade of pink. “Come on, you’re getting cold now.” you pushed him to go.

“I have a laptop, we can gather in our living room. Do you know who else is being revealed?”

“I think Lami and Irene.” you took a second to remember who was on the list you checked last night at the practice room.

“You can ask them to come too.”

“I will, but I’m not promising anything, okay?” he nodded and you hugged him goodbye, leaving the elevator on your floor.

“Oh, you’re alone?” Jaehyun asked disappointed.

“Am I not enough company, Yuno?” you squinted your eyes at him suspiciously.

“I thought they’ll want to gather for this moment.” he chuckled and shrugged after, letting you in quickly.

“They just…” you sighed while taking your shoes off, preparing yourself mentally for a lie. You didn’t want to tell him you never asked them to come. First and foremost because you knew Irene would most likely decline, and because you knew Lami would totally tag along. She was small, cute and irresistible and once you’d suggest you knew she’d accept, so you opted to keep your mouth shut. Not because you were against either of them coming but just because you felt like they were not allowed to see your friends vulnerable side. You just felt like you were the only one who was supposed to live this moment through with him and you found yourself enjoying the idea of barricading the two of you out of the whole wide world. “Irene didn’t want to, duh.” you chuckled, “Lami had school things to do, so yeah… I’m sorry nobody else came.”

“It’s fine, you’re more than enough.” he smiled fondly and invited you to the living room. His laptop stood on the coffee table and the room was surprisingly quiet. You expected to not be left alone with Jaehyun, but all the guys seemed to disappear from the dorm. Your brain suddenly traveled to the other time you were in the same dorm one on one with a guy, beating air for the slightest moment out of your lungs.

“I’m probably acting foolish…” Jaehyun sighed and propped his body on the couch.

“You aren’t.” you sat next to him, craning your neck to look at Jaehyun. “Are we going to see what people are commenting?”

“If you want to, yeah.” he nodded and the face expression he made made his dimples visible. You couldn’t hold yourself back, pinching his cheek right the moment he focused his eyes on the laptop screen.

“You’re acting like a baby now.” you chuckled when he grabbed onto your hand, pushing it off his face. “A big ass baby.” you commented while his fingers ran over the keyboard, opening the right page. The fear you tried to hide hit you suddenly when your eyes could see the logo of the website and you wrapped your body around Jaehyun’s arm.

“It’s you.” he said suddenly, his voice dying in nervousness.

“And you too.” you moved closer to the screen, running your eyes over and over again through the page as if it’s going to change.

“They look young.” Jaehyun read out loud the comment you set your eyes on.

“What’s else in there.” you gulped and reached for the laptop, hiding the screen away from Jaehyun. “He’s handsome!” you couldn’t hide away your smile, looking up from the screen at Jaehyun who seemed to not catch what you said. “The guy is a total visual!” you giggled and hid your face behind the screen to find something else. “I want more info on him. Hm…” you scrolled through “The guy from yesterday was totally hotter.” you met eyes with Jaehyun who finally seemed to listen. “I’m sorry love, Taeyong’s hotter.” you chuckled at the way Jaehyun smiled. “I can see him be the lead vocal.” you sighed “Visual, visual, cutie.” you scrolled mindlessly through comments.

“I don’t believe that it’s there.” he finally spoke and looked at you weirdly.

“It’s there, look.” you turned the screen back at Jaehyun. “I want him to debut soon.” you read the new comment that popped up. “Just admit you’re handsome.” you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore. The compliments you read made you feel as if they were directed at you, for some reason knowing people liked Jaehyun made you feel at ease.

“Let’s see what people think of your singing.” Jaehyun suggested suddenly making that ‘at ease’ feeling fade away in a second.

“It’s probably boring.” you rolled your eyes and hoped he’d move on to something else but he didn’t and the idea of him reading out comments about you made you freezing cold. It wasn’t really the perfect time and place to realise you were deadly afraid of what people think of you, but the thing happened anyway so you had to choke on your emotions and blink away the fear. You just felt like the both of you shouldn’t be scared at the same time, and while Jaehyun already was, you found it only logical to act all tough until the day he takes the lead from you. “Okay, go on.” you rolled your eyes and raised an eyebrow at him.

“‘She looks young.’ You really do.” you wondered if he’s going to add his cute remarks to every comment he reads. “Wow! Vocals!” he raised his eyes at you showing off his dimples. The front door made the both of your attention run to whoever entered the apartment. “Oh, Yuta, hi!” he smiled widely and lowered his head back onto the laptop.

“Hi…” Yuta sighed and you could hear him walk in further, probably noticing you by now. “Y/n? Hi.” you didn’t want to seem weird but you didn’t want to turn around and see him either, so your pride took over and you ignored him. “What you two are up to?” Yuta’s presence made you shiver and even though you still couldn’t see him, you could feel him close behind you. You just waited patiently for Jaehyun to answer and Yuta to leave quickly but neither of them seemed to want the same thing, with the way Jaehyun turned his laptop towards Yuta.

“I’m reading comments under Y/n’s video. We were posted today.” he smiled proudly and you couldn’t understand where that face expression came from.

“What are they saying?“ Yuta seemed invested and you finally turned to face him only to find him leaning in to rest his knee behind you on the couch, balancing with his arm on the backrest of it. His eyes were focused on Jaehyun and you wondered if he tried to pretend you were invisible.

“That she’s a great singer and pretty.”

“When did they say I’m pretty?” you chimed in, moving a bit forward from Yuta.

“I saw it somewhere.” Jaehyun quickly glanced at you.

“Can I scroll?” Yuta moved his body more towards you when Jaehyun nodded and moved his hand onto your shoulder making you gasp in annoyance. You weren’t there to be the stand he can lean onto. “People really like you Jaehyun, I’m proud of you.” Yuta sounded genuine and you smiled at Jaehyun. You could read in his eyes he was happy with his older brothers approval. “You too, Y/n. I would be surprised if someone didn’t find you beautiful.” his eyes focused on you for a little too long before he turned back onto the screen. His body bent over your shoulder for a few more moments, standing up and leaving the two of you one on one again.

“Who’s your favourite at the dorms?” you asked when Jaehyun was still scrolling through the comments section.

“Hm?” he looked at you puzzled clearly missing out the question.

“Who do you think is your real friend here?”

“You?” he asked confused, squinting his eyes slightly in confusion.

“Nah, not me. I’m talking this floor.”

“Oh, this floor.” he closed the laptop to think the question through. “I don’t know, Johnny? I think I get along with everyone and I haven’t thought of it this way… I like spending time with Yuta, and then other guys too…”

“You really are a baby.” you chuckled at him.

“Why is that?”

“I guess girls just built differently. There’s the talk who’s best friends with who, who fancies who. Who’d you want to debut with and things like that. Y’all are just chilled, I love that.” you nodded approvingly.

“So who are you best friends with?”

“I don’t know…” you sighed. “I thought I was close with Seulgi but recently we barely talk and I guess I’m just not interesting to her anymore…” you bit onto your lip. “I’m mostly hanging out with Koeun. Yeri too, but she’s kinda distant now too.”

“Why though?”

“I don’t know… maybe they just don’t like me.” you smiled at Jaehyun and he laughed loudly at your assumption.

“I’m sure they do. Didn’t you tell me about that girl group? I’m sure all of you will debut soon. You’ll get super close once again while preparing, I’m sure. We’ll probably get distant but I’m going to root for you no matter what, don’t worry.” his palm laid atop of your shoulder reassuringly and you squinted your eyes happily. A single thought of debuting with your friends took you to cloud 9.

“Hey, hey, what’s up?” Jaehyun’s arms tried to catch you when you practically flew past him. Your feet walked quicker than you ever thought you were able to and even though you did notice him, there was practically no chance for you to give him any reaction with the way you walked. “Y/n, hey?” Jaehyun ran behind you and had to pull onto your hand when you didn’t stop even when the two of you were half way to the dorm. “What…” his mood visibly changed when he could see your face from under your cap. “You’re crying?” he asked confused. “Hey, what happened?” his voice became visibly softer and you raised your head to see him properly. “I’m confused… what happened?” he bit onto his lip while you tried to contain yourself to speak.

“I saw the final list for the girl group. I’m not there.” you failed to speak more when another wave of tears fell over you. “I know now where they disappeared, I know why I felt left out, I wasn’t the reason, they knew all along. I thought we were friends. I was asked to come for a few practices but I knew something was off, if they said the group is debuting in August and now it’s May, and I literally was asked to come to like a practice a week. I… I don’t… I can’t believe they… I thought we were friends but they just lied into my face, said we’re going to be debuting together.” Jaehyun pulled you for a hug, while your breathing hitched terribly and you knew he could barely work out what you were saying. “They went to practice without me all the time, that’s why Irene always came late to the dorm. That bi… she lied to me when I asked her, I don’t want to sleep in the same room with her. I hate them all! I hate the company!” Jaehyun squeezed your body in his hands tighter and you felt small next to him for the first time in your life.

“Y/n, please don’t cry so much, you’re going to have puffy eyes.”

“You’re like my mom.” you swallowed a chuckle.

“It’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” you tried to take deep breaths but they still gave away your wish to cry. “My mom is just going to kill me, that’s it. I don’t know how to tell her.”

“I know deep down she’s proud of you and loves you and you being here is enough for her happiness. If it’s not this girl group, it’ll be the next one. Im sure you were crossed off that debuting list because you’re too young for the rest of them. 98 right? Irene’s like 91, the rest of them around her age. You’re just a baby yet, they’ll put you in the next group…” Jaehyun’s fingers caressed your hair carefully. “Or what if their plan is to make a BoA out of you? Our generation BoA, even I’ll be asking for your autographs.” you raised your head from his chest to take in fully his effort to make you feel better.

“I love you so much, thank you, Jaehyun. No one ever cared for me the way you do, I… I never thought I’ll ever be able to have a friend like you. Please, when you’ll find out you’re debuting, don’t lie to me, okay?” you smiled at him with a smirk.

“Love you too, and no, I won’t lie. Didn’t we agree to never lying.”

“We did.” you sighed and lowered your head back onto his chest.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Now yes… but going to the dorm is just sounding disgusting. I’m probably going to fight with them if they’ll try to talk to me ever again.”

“You know… I don’t want us to fight… but I guess it’s really not the girls fault. They didn’t decide on this… and well… I’m sure they wanted to debut with you, it’s just the company and I’m sure it’s for the best. They probably weren’t allowed to tell you.”

“You’re right but still… I can be mad.” you lightly punched his shoulder and sighed.

“You are, I’d be crying too if I were you.”

“Glad to know.” you could feel his chest tremble with the laugh that escaped his throat. “Is it weird if I’ll ask you to let me stay on the couch of your floor…?”

“Probably…” he sighed looking like he thought about options. “Want to come to my house?”

“What do you mean?” you squinted your eyes.

“My house is near, my parents won’t mind, we could probably stay there for a couple of days.”

“Together?”

“If you’re okay with it you can stay there alone…” he chuckled. “You just have to tell someone at the dorm, I’m sure they’ll notice.”

“I’m not their priority, I’m sure they won’t.”

“Oh, stop.” Jaehyun sighed, watching you get from his hold, walking towards the building.

“I’m going to befriend your parents and stay at your house until the day those people move to their personal dorm.”

“Don’t act dramatic.” his hand fell over your shoulders, leading you to the building.

“I’m still hurt and upset.”

“I know, it’s normal. We’ll get over it, I’m sure.” Jaehyun’s hand squeezed your shoulders. “Actually, we were told we’re going to appear on some show.”

“What show?”

“It’s something with EXO, I’m not sure yet, they just said we’re going to start filming soon and we’re practicing for it starting today.”

“Congratulations, you.” you put on a sincere smile even when you were dying inside from your own failures.

“I wanted to tell you, before I realised you’re crying… it doesn’t matter actually, we’ll talk about it another day.”

“No, tell me, I want to know.”

“Exo and all the SM Rookies boys are going to remake 90s songs… I believe original artist are going to come too… anyway… I feel like I’m showing off right now.” he chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I’m serious. I love hearing you happy, it makes me feel better…” your fingers wrapped over his waist for a quick hug. “Please take Sehun’s autograph for me?” you said cutely.

“You know I’m probably going to be too scared to do so…” he sighed disappointed with his own cowardness.

“Yeah, you’re right.” you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his cute face expression.

“Jaehyun-ah?” your head leaned over the wall and you caught Jaehyun’s happy eyes on yours. “Hey, superstar.” you chuckled and walked closer to him.

“Hi, fool. I’m not a superstar.” he hugged you quickly.

“You’re all busy with schedules and I saw a couple of episodes of that EXO program… where’s my autograph?” Jaehyun laughed loudly and finally payed all of his attention to you. The living room of boys dorm was as lively as ever and you suddenly thought you two should go to yours, now almost empty, dorm.

“We haven’t hung out probably in forever.” you propped your body next to his on the couch. “How are you doing?”

“Glad to finally have time to rest.”

“Oh, I told you, you’re a superstar.” you looked around, watching guys doing something in the kitchen. Yuta was there too but you caught yourself thinking you didn’t care about him and turned back.

“He’s like the most liked person on set.” Johnny chimed in and you had to look away to not burst out laughing at his face expression.

“Anyway…” Jaehyun sighed loudly and Johnny moved his body away, giving you private space with Jaehyun, which you couldn’t thank him enough for. You crawled into the corner of the couch and Jaehyun moved next to you, looking you up. “What you’ve been up to? Lots of practice?”

“Yeah.” you nodded vigorously “This… and something else…” you bit onto your lip excitedly to not smile too brightly.

“What? You’re going to debut?” his hand laid atop of his mouth in shock.

“No, better.” you chuckled.

“Better than debuting is what…?”

“I’ve…” you sighed and moved your mouth closer to Jaehyun’s ear. “I’ve met someone and I think he likes me.”

“What?” Jaehyun’s eyes turned into big circles, making his mouth ‘o’ shaped. “Is it someone from the company?” he asked loudly and then lowered his head quickly to not attract attention.

“No, it’s not. It’s someone I met at the mart next to the dorm. I dropped a bill and he gave it back to me. Funny thing I didn’t notice dropping anything, but yeah. He said he’d like to talk to me more and gave me his phone number and he’s been texting me nonstop. He says he wants to take me out soon and I’m nervous…”

“Wait…” Jaehyun sighed and shook his head quickly. “You’re dating him?”

“No, dummy. Im telling you, he talked to me at the mart next to the dorm and asked for my phone number, I gave it to him and he texted me non stop.”

“Do you think he recognised you?”

“Am I a TV star? How could he recognise me? There’s nothing to recognise.” you chuckled at his assumption.

“I don’t know… how old is he?”

“I have no clue… I think our age. He looks young… cute too…” you tried to contain your embarrassed smile at the remark you made.

“Are you like already in love with him or something?” Jaehyun looked at you suspiciously and shook his head, moving his attention onto something else while you were coming up with an answer.

“I’m not that easily convinced, Jaehyun. I have seen him only once, it takes more than that I guess to be in love.”

“Okay.” he nodded and went quiet. The two of you barely spoke about such things and by barely you would probably say never before. You guessed he was uncomfortable talking about all things regarding love and the fact he kept a shroud of mystery over his feelings towards anyone you found it only obvious he let the conversation die. His tongue practically went numb whenever you tried to tease him over girls and you guessed he was more focused on getting his actual job done than you are.

“I was just thinking… When we met and exchanged phone numbers he wanted to walk me back home because I said I live near…“ Jaehyun raised his eyebrow at you “No, I didn’t lead him to the dorm… I walked into a random building and waited until he left. I feel bad for lying.“

“Oh trust me you’ll feel worse if you’ll disclose you’re an SM Trainee living with another 100 of them in this building.“

“Very funny of you, Jaehyun-ah.“

“Where are you leading this anyway?“

“I was thinking of telling him I live at your place but it’s dumb now that I faked I live in that house.“

“Just meet him at the park or something. What’s the problem?“

“Ugh, you’re really annoying, aren’t you.“ You sighed and dropped your head dramatically on the backrest of the couch. “I’m just nervous, I was thinking we can blabber about it whatever and I’ll feel better. I never was asked out before…“ you sighed and he mirrored you. “Have you?“

“Have I been asked out before?“

“This, or have you asked someone out before?“

“Nah…“ He shook his head shyly his ears turn redder than tomatoes “Not many chances to get a love life while you live in a dorm with 20 other guys.“ You nodded understandingly and bit onto your lip. “Even if you’ll like him… don’t open up everything to him, okay?“

“There’s not much to open up.“ you moved your head back up to look at him “I won’t tell him anything about this, obviously.“

“I’m…“ he sighed “Being careful is the key I guess.“

“You’re such a grandpa and a party pooper.“ You rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder lightly. “You could’ve just said something like ‘I’m sure the date’s going to be great and the guy will turn to be a sweetheart! I’m rooting for your love life, bestie!’

“I’m rooting for your love life, bestie!“ He tried to copy the tone of your voice and you gave him an eye.

“By the way, did you meet our new trainee?“

“A new trainee?“

“Yeah, she’s living in the room next to mine.“

“You’re still all alone?“

“I am!“ You chuckled and thought about their 4 person bedrooms “Imagine you were allowed to move into my room.“

“I totally can’t imagine my life without living with three other guys now, I’m sorry.“ You shook your head at him amused.

“Hey love birds, want to watch a movie?“ Johnny moved closer to you two once again.

“Hey, she’s got a boyfriend now.“

“You what?“ Johnny raised his eyebrows.

“Shut up! I don’t!“ You whined at Jaehyun loudly, raising visibly volume of the conversation. The boys tried to keep the teasing between you three but now your whine attracted attention of the boys in the kitchen.

“You don’t what?“ Donghyuck walked in closer, curious.

“Want to watch a movie?“ You craned your neck at him, smiling.

“Okay.“ He agreed unbelievably quickly. “Hey, who wants to watch a movie?“ he attracted more people and now more people sat themselves on the couch. Jaehyun suggested you’ll invite girls from your dorm and a couple of them came too, making the living room packed.

When the movie was over you waved everyone goodbye quickly, and ran out of the dorm. Looking for privacy you ran one flight of stairs down, not expecting anyone to walk downstairs, since all girls lived three floors above. Your eyes ran over the screen of your phone, looking for new messages of your ‘boyfriend’. You could hear girls walk up the stairs quietly, not saying a single word. You sank into the message he sent, trying to come up with a better answer to the question he asked.

“Hey.“ you almost flue up the stairs when you heard a voice next to you.

“Hi.“ You raised your head and gulped, hiding your phone into your pocket.

“I heard your conversation with Jaehyun.” Yuta stood one stair lower and you couldn’t work out why didn’t he sat down.

“And?” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to stand up.

“You should stop texting that guy.” you fell back down facing him shocked. You haven’t given much thought which conversation Yuta could’ve overheard but now it kinda made sense.

“And… why?“ You couldn’t understand where the sassiness in your voice came from, but either way it was already there.

“Do you know him?“

“Hm, is it written down somewhere that you have to know someone before dating them?“

“You’re already going that much forward?“

“Yuta, just go. No one needs your advice.“ his eyes dropped onto your pocket and your head laid atop of your pocket as if he was about to steal your phone.

“Is that him?“

“None of your business.“

“Hey.“ he looked away for a second and his face expression changed when he looked back at you, sitting down on the same stair. “I’m not here to make a scene. I care for you and want only the best… I’m serious, Y/n.“

“Why?“

“Just because.“

“Okay.“ You snorted at his lame answer.

“Whats his name?“

“Jay.“

“And how old is Jay?“

“Our age.“

“Our age is how old?“

“I don’t know. I never asked…“

“Does he know how old you are?“

“Yes, he asked me before.“

“I know you’re going to be annoyed by me saying this… but I think you shouldn’t talk to him.“

“Huh? Why is that?“

“I think he’s going to scam you.“

“You have no right to say that!“

“A random guy you meet next to the dorm, he doesn’t tell you anything about himself but asks everything about you. I’m sure he’s a scammer, I’m sure he saw you on the internet. You can’t just risk everything dumbly like that.“

“How do you know he doesn’t tell me things about himself?“

“You just proved that.“he shrugged “You’re not going anywhere with him, that’s for sure. I’m not going to be surprised if he’ll try to fuck you and then somehow mess with your career.“

“Your imagination is insane, you’re insane.“

“Give me your phone, I’ll prove it.“

“No.“

“Come on, if I’m wrong I’ll do anything you’ll want me to.“

“Fine, but if you’re wrong, you’re not going to get out of it easily.“

“Okay.“ You fished out your phone and put it in Yuta’s hand. He immediately began typing, not even scrolling through the conversation. He sent the message and three dotes signalling that Jay typed back showed immediately. ‘Want to go to a hotel?’ he replied to Yuta’s whiny message that he wanted to meet. “See?“ Yuta’s fingers quickly typed a ‘you want to do what TTTT’ you would’ve laughed at the way he wrote if it wasn’t for the situation “Don’t tell me you think he wants to read books?“ ‘we could get a drink and then we’ll see what I could do with you.’ You swallowed a gasp and looked at Yuta who paid you no attention, submersed into the conversation. ‘Is it weird I’m getting turned on_? kekeke’ getting a reply of ‘oh don’t worry honey I’m getting a hard on from a single thought.’ Yuta locked your phone, putting it to the side.

“So huh?“ Yuta chuckled “Tell me he wasn’t here for fucking.“

“You literally suggested it.“ you couldn’t fight it in you to not fight back even though you could see now he was right.

“I said I wanted to see him, not suggested going to a hotel, drinking and doing shit. Why can’t you just say ‘thank you, Yuta’?“

“You’re wrong.“

“I can’t fucking believe you almost went out with a guy who’s initial plan was to fuck.“

“Stop swearing at me.“

“Is that all that bothers you? I literally saved you right now.“

“Are you trying to feel better about yourself or what?“

“Sort of yeah, I kind of prevented a guy from stealing your virginity against your will.“ You chocked and wanted to fight him, ask him why the hell he decided he knew everything about your body, but then you came up with a better comeback.

“Not the first time someone tried to steal something from me.“

“What do you mean? Someone tried to hit on you?“

“Well he was successful with stealing it.“

“What…?“ Yuta seemed to be visibly taken aback and you would just love to take a picture of his face expression.

“It’s you! You stole my first kiss!” You bursted loudly regretting being this loud on the stairs.

“I asked you beforehand!” He fought back suddenly, visibly feeling at ease.

“It doesn’t matter, you kissed me and ran away.”

“Did that guy steal your second…?” he asked much calmer taking a moment to reply.

“Im not telling you.”

“Did he or not?” Yuta sounded more persistent and you just looked away, shaking your head a slight no, knowing that he’ll notice. “You’re sure you still don’t have any feelings towards Jaehyun?”

“What is up with your questions?” you turned your head back at him with raised eyebrows in one swift motion. Your voice sounded too high pitched for your own liking, seemingly amusing Yuta. He rested his palm against your cheek and your eyes fluttered before you came to your senses. “Move. Your hand. Away.” you put all of your strength to make words leave your mouth steadily.

“I don’t want to.” you couldn’t work out if he smiled to make you mad or if he did it unconsciously.

“What do you want, Yuta?”

“Now that you brought up our kiss I just want another one.”

“Go kiss someone who’s not a child.”

“Whine some more.” he murmured and leaned in, running his thumb over your throat.

“Yuta, I’m serious.” you pushed onto his shoulder.

“Do you need to talk this out?” he sighed and moved back, making you lose any contact. “Let’s talk, I agree.”

“I…I feel like you’re going to do all of it once again.”

“Do what?”

“Make me believe you and feel things for you and then just say that I’m a child.”

“You’re not a child, I was dumb. On top of that you’re not 15 anymore.”

“16 is not much of a bigger number.”

“It’s not, but I found out that the age of consent in Korea is 13, which technically means I’m not doing anything bad if I’m just kissing a 16 year old girl I’m going crazy for.” you couldn’t take his sudden confession, turning away quickly to hide away your beaming smile. “I wish we could have a date.” his chin laid on your shoulder and you shivered every time you could feel his breathing on your skin.

“What took you so long?” you aimed to look him in the eyes but his sudden proximity made you just look forward to not get your faces too close.

“Is it a question to fight or to tell me you needed me?” he moved away a little giving you space.

“Both.” you turned your head to face him, taking not more than a second for Yuta to lay his lips atop of yours. Your cheeks flushed in an instance and the way his tongue slid against your teeth asking for permission to enter your mouth made you wrap your arms around his neck tightly. Yuta leaned onto the stairs behind him with his elbows, allowing for your chest to lay atop of his. Slight panic attack ran across your chest at the idea of him wanting for you to straddle his legs and you pulled back, suddenly realising that the kiss felt way too heated for what you intended.

“What’s wrong?” his hand found your face, caressing your cheek carefully. “Your lips taste so fucking good.” his eyes took a long glance at your lips, looking back at your eyes with a smirk. “Pink and mine.” It seemed like he said it more to himself and you just overheard him on accident.

“Yuta.” you pushed back and sat up, leaving him half laying onn the stairs.

“Yes?”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like what? Me?” his fingers gently ran down the back of your upper arm.

“No, that it’s going so suddenly and so quickly. I don’t want to sit on your lap, I don’t want you to call me yours. What are we even? Nothing. Don’t push it.” he kept quiet, running his fingers up the skin of your arm and down. “And don’t touch me like that too!” you blew up suddenly and chewed onto your lip, holding back tears with your very last breathe.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“This is wrong, I just know it.”

“I know everything gives you stress, I’m stressed too, but this… I’m here to release it. I want to love you because I know I can make you happy and you can make me happy too.”

“I’m not going to be able to give you what you want.”

“And what is it you think I want?” he chuckled and sat on your level. “I’m genuinely curious.”

“Sex?”

“And besides that?” Yuta noticed your teary eyes, rubbing the back of his palm against your cheek.

“More sexual interactions…?”

“Anything else?”

“I don’t know.” you said confused not knowing what exactly he wanted to hear from you.

“Why is that bothering you so much? I’m not asking for sex right now, and not planning on asking you for sex any time soon either.” he took a pause to lick his lips and it struck you suddenly how actually attractive he was. “Eventually, you’ll be the one begging for release and I’ll remind of your words angel, trust me.”

“I’ll just say it. I heard you talking with Johnny about that girl you sleep with, I heard a lot and I know I’m not that.”

“I don’t sleep with her, I slept with her. And there’s no way I want you to be like her, i was not even thinking of sex with you but you’re hammering the thought into my brain right now.”

“So you never thought of it? Because I’m not attracting you in that way?”

“Oh God, Y/n, stop.” Yuta rolled his eyes in annoyance and pulled your chin to him with just two fingers, brushing his lips slowly against yours.

“Yuta, I’m serious, didn’t you say you agree we should talk.” you tried to push him away once again, but Yuta got glued to your body.

“Mmh.” he mumbled in reply, moving his lips onto your jaw. “I’ll agree with anything you say.” his tongue licked your neck and he raised his head suddenly. “Does the corridor seem too warm for you?” you chuckled at his sudden remembrance of what you told him that night. “Do you feel warm down your stomach?” he murmured and placed his lips on yours again.

“I’m not telling you.” you whispered out of breathe when he finally moved back.

“I know exactly what you’re feeling.”

“How come?”

“I can sense it in the air.” a throaty chuckle escaped his mouth and you shivered. “Your sexual frustration is going to get the very best of you too soon baby, trust me.” his lips pecked yours and he jumped up unexpectedly. “Let’s go, I’m sure you need a break before you flood the building.”

“Yuta!” you punched his shoulder blade while his hand tugged you behind him.

“Oh, by the way. We should keep this to ourselves.”

“Okay.” you nodded understandingly.

“Not even Jaehyun.”

“But why? He would understand.” you whined a little. You were planning to run to Jaehyun right after.

“If you’re telling him, you’re breaking my trust, you get me?” you nodded quickly and Yuta pecked your lips satisfied.

678 notes · View notes

qslovebot · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #emily prentiss #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer x y/n #cm #aaron hotchner #mutual pining #romance #spencer reid fandom

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kinglazrus · 4 years ago

Text

Deep Wounds Ch. 2 - What Now?

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Word count: 4069

It takes ten minutes for everyone to change and clear out. During that time, an invisible Danny floats in one of the shower stalls, his gym bag clutched to his chest, one hand clamped around his mouth. If it hadn't been for Dash's shout of "No!" he might not have hidden in time. Danny only had a few seconds to snatch up his bandages and bag—but not the gauze—before the first person entered.

It was Tucker, thankfully. He gaped when he saw Danny and quickly waved for him to hide. Just in time, too, since Elliot was only a few steps behind.

Now, Danny can only hear a single person shuffling about.

"It's clear," Tucker whispers.

Danny floats through the door of the shower stall, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the empty change room. He drops his invisibility and dumps his stuff on the floor in favour of clutching his side. "Why didn't I stay home today?"

"Because you want to graduate this year and you can't afford another absence." Tucker grabs his gym shirt off the floor, revealing the forgotten gauze pad, and sighs at the new stains. "I really liked this shirt."

"Sorry, man."

"Dude, you are literally bleeding. Shut up. You don't need to apologize. Just be glad I got my shirt off before Elliot could see the damn thing." Tucker grabs the gauze, rolls it into a ball, and tosses it toward the garbage can. "Ten points!"

The gauze bounces off the rim and falls to the floor.

"Zero points," Danny says.

"Rude."

"Hey, I'm bleeding, remember?"

"That only gets you a pass from saying sorry, not common decency."

Danny's shoulders shake as he laughs. It hurts, making his left side throbbing, but trying to hold it back hurts worse. "Ow, ow, ow," he says, gasps of pain interrupting him. Curling over, he hugs his side even tighter, fighting back a sharp cry. The tension in his body doesn't help, but the pressure on his side feels good.

"Sam on her way?" Danny asks.

"She's grabbing the first-aid kit from my locker. I'll fix you up this time. We all know I have steadier hands." That A-plus in home ec isn't for nothing.

"Thanks," Danny mumbles.

"Yeah, dude. We've got you."

After Sam arrives, Tucker redoes Danny's stitches in record time. Half of the lunch hour has passed by the time Danny gets patched up, but he doesn't feel hungry anyway. Tucker takes his and Danny's bloody gym shirts and stuffs them into the first-aid kit.

"I need to refill on some supplies at home," Tucker explains. "I'll get rid of these there."

"Good idea. My mom found a pair of jeans I forgot to throw away after a fight with Skulker. I had a hard time explaining that one away," Danny says. The "I tripped into a window" excuse probably only works once, anyway. "But we have another problem."

"Dash?" Sam asks.

Danny nods. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"He was acting weird when gym ended. Wouldn't let anyone come inside until we pushed him out of the way."

"Huh." Danny certainly didn't expect that. Dash might be a downright bully anymore, but he's still not prone to random acts of kindness. "That's... weird." It doesn't make up for him tearing Danny's wound back open, even if it was an accident, but it's something.

"I think we might not have to worry about him," Sam says.

Danny stares at her, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, actually. He could have done anything when he saw the rest of the class coming, including telling everyone that you were hurt. But he stopped them instead."

"But this is Dash."

"That's surprising coming from you."

"What does that even mean? You guys and Valerie are being so weird today. Come on, Tucker. Back me up." Danny looks at Tucker, fully expecting him to be on Danny's side.

Tucker doesn't respond right away. Biting his thumbnail, he stares ahead at the floor, deep in thought. That alone is enough to send Danny for a loop. When Tucker does answer, Danny's jaw drops in disbelief.

"I'm with Sam on this."

"For real?"

"Yeah, man. We don't even know what Dash thinks he saw, anyway. What happened when he walked in?" Tucker asks.

Danny tells them, sparing no detail.

"Oh, wow."

Sam shakes her head. "I'll say. I can't believe you wailed at him."

"Almost. I almost wailed at him. It was a baby wail at most. More of a hum," Danny says. He was just so surprised when Dash walked in. Danny's instincts took over and all he could think about was getting Dash out of there as soon as possible. He is lucky no one else came running.

"That already will have freaked him out. If we go around making a big deal about it and getting in his face, that'll make things worse." Sam stands up from the floor, stretching her arms over her head. She looks completely unconcerned, so does Tucker for that matter. Both of them are content to let Dash be. "Let's wait to see what he does. If he starts spreading rumours, we'll know right away, and then we can confront him."

"On the other hand, he might go to you, Danny, first," Tucker adds. He takes a bottle of Aspirin from the first-aid kit and presses it into Danny's hand before zipping the bag up. "He might not do anything."

The bottle of Aspirin rattles as Danny twists the lid off. "I can't believe you guys are okay with this." He dumps a couple of pills into his palm and tosses them back. Wordlessly, Sam passes him a water bottle. One quick swig is all he needs to help the pills go down. "He could be telling everyone right now."

"He could," Sam admits. "But he won't."

Sam and Tucker get up to leave, and Danny's forced to follow, or else get left behind. He trails after them, stiff, sore, and aching. The pills won't kick in for a while, and he loathes having to walk now. If he could get away with it, he would spend the rest of the day floating through the halls.

Tragically, he has a secret to protect. One that is very much at risk right now, despite what Sam says. Wherever she and Tucker are getting their confidence from, Danny doesn't share it. He just hopes they're right.

Dash tries to hold it in. He really does. The sound of Danny's anger bearing down on him, reverberating through the change room, hasn't stopped rattling around his head. But as lunch nears its end, the words burst out of him.

"I think Fenton is in a gang or something," Dash says.

The table falls silent.

Kwan freezes in place, hand halfway to his mouth, and a piece of meatloaf falls off his fork. "You... what?"

"I think Danny is in a gang," Dash repeats, softer.

His friends gape at him, equally confused. Mostly. Star doesn't even look up from her math homework. In fact, Dash thinks she's smiling, but he ignores it.

"Kwan, I thought you said Danny was the one who got hit during gym class," Paulina says. She pushes her lunch aside and leans across the table, lifting a hand to Dash's forehead. "Are you sure you got it right?"

"I'm fine, Paulie." Dash ducks under his hand and hunkers low to the table. When no one else moves, he gestures for them to come closer. Kwan does so immediately. Paulina rolls her eyes but obliges.

"I'm good," Star says.

"Okay, so, I checked on Fenton after dropping him off, 'cause he looked kind of bad, and I guess, I don't know. I felt... whatever. It doesn't matter. But like, he had this huge cut."

Paulina grins and leans in closer, finally looking invested. "You felt kind of 'whatever?'"

Dash scowls. "Seriously, Paulie?"

"You're the one who said it!" Paulina smacks the table, a fit of giggles bursting from her. It's her "I've found some juicy gossip" noise and Dash hates it.

"Did you even hear me? Huge cut and all that?" Dash says.

Kwan shrugs. "I don't know. His parents build a lot of crazy stuff, don't they? He probably hurt himself on one of those. Did you see that new gun they were toting around last week? It melted Mr. Lancer's car!"

"Oh, my God. I totally saw that. I felt so bad for him," Paulina says.

Dash frowns down at the table while the conversation plods on. True, everyone knows the Fentons have some crazy inventions. But everything they make, they make to hurt ghosts, not people. Everyone in town has been caught in the Fentons crossfire at one point or another. Dash still remembers the disgusting taste of the Fenton Foamers. Like warm, month-old key lime yogurt. Disgusting, but ultimately harmless.

And Danny didn't just have a little cut. It was huge. Dash only got a brief look at it, but that short glance told him everything he needed to know. Something, or someone, had hurt Danny. Rather than going to the hospital—because no trained professional would do such a sloppy job—Danny fixed it himself or got his friends to fix it. The injury had to be new, too, since it was still bleeding.

But stitches could bleed if you ripped them, didn't treat the injury right. Judging by the placement, Danny's stitches must pull every time he moves his arm.

Could one of his parents' guns have done that?

Now that Dash thinks about it, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Danny get hit with his parents' weapons. Not their guns, at least. They have that dumb boomerang thing that he's seen smack Danny on the back of the head. Actually, that one hits Danny a lot.

Dash's frown deepens, etching into his face. Why on Earth would one of Danny's own parents' inventions hurt him so much? Unless...

"Hey, guys?" Dash asks, interrupting Star mid-sentence.

"You found more proof of Fenton's gang activities?" Paulina asks.

"What if, like, someone's hurting him?"

"You mean one of his gang buddies?"

"No, Paulie, I'm serious. What if someone is hurting him?"

The table falls silent once more, but this time, his friends' expressions are serious rather than disbelieving.

Kwan lowers his voice. "Do you really think... I mean, Fenton?"

"Well..." Star taps her chin. "Where was he hurt?"

"Here." Dash taps his ribs on his left side, under his arm.

Star nods. "Okay. Are you sure he couldn't have, you know...." She trails off, but Dash already knows what she means.

"No way. He could hardly see the cut, much less do it himself. And it was bad."

"So he was hurt, badly, in a place that no one else would normally see. He didn't miss any school, so he probably didn't go to the hospital. Was it recent?"

Dash nods. "There was blood. Too much to just be because of the stitches."

Star drums her fingers on the table, nodding slowly. "I think you could be right."

The A-listers glance around the table, meeting each other's eyes. None of them say anything, but the same question lurks in all their minds. Now what?

In the days following the change room debacle, Danny avoids Dash like his life depends on it. Which it might. Any time he sees Dash in the hall, he turns right around and walks away. When they're in class, Danny stares straight ahead and refuses to look Dash's way. In gym class, Tetslaff lets him sit out, finally. Having Danny blackout on her after she forced him to play must have spooked her because she benches him before he can even ask not to play.

"No student of mine is gonna pass out on my watch. Twice," she says.

It won't last forever, but Danny will take what he can get, while he can get it.

But the thing is, Dash doesn't try anything. It's surreal. For the past four years, Danny has grown accustomed to Dash's constant harassment. Even when it dropped significantly in sophomore year, Dash never stopped. He threw erasers at Danny during class, tripped him in the halls, called out teasing names every chance he got.

"I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, right?" Danny asks Tucker on the third day.

Already done his lunch, Tucker is thoroughly engrossed by his phone and doesn't look up as he replies. "You think everything is weird lately."

"Because it is."

"Missing your quality time with Dash?" Tucker flashes a quick grin in Danny's direction before returning to his phone.

"Har, har. You are so funny." Danny would have to be some kind of masochist to miss Dash's badgering. It's just... strange, not to have to watch the halls for him in that way. It doesn't make Danny watch any less—in fact, he finds himself looking for Dash more than before. So that he can run away if he gets close. Except Dash isn't even trying, and that annoys the hell out of him.

Tucker sighs, finally putting down his phone, and rests a hand on Danny's head. "Such a hopeless young soul. Can't even understand your own heart."

Danny slaps the hand away. "Says the guy who asked out every girl in school because they all made him feel the same way because it turns out he's super ace and didn't actually feel anything for any of them."

"And what an emotional journey that was." Tucker faces Danny head-on. "Look, Danny. If it's bothering you that much, then go talk to him. Feed him some excuse about what happened. Just remember that there's a reason Sam and I think it will be okay."

Danny ponders Tucker's advice for the rest of the day. The weekend starts tomorrow, which gives him two whole Dash-free days to think about the situation. Maybe a little time to himself as what he needs. He goes for a flight after school rather than walking home with Tucker; being in the air always helps clear his head.

He soars far above the city until he is little more than a pinprick to everyone far below. At the peak of his flight, his phone rings. The caller ID shows it's Jazz.

"What's up?" he greets his sister.

"Taken over my room yet?" Jazz asks.

"When you've only been at college for a month? Of course." It made a great storage space. Danny turns over to float on his stomach and starts drifting down like a leaf, falling back and forth on the wind.

"Well, I'm gonna need it back this weekend."

"Dropping out already?"

"You wish. I got a tutoring gig: two sessions—Saturday and Sunday. I don't want to do the two hours there and back both days, so I'm coming home for the weekend."

"I can't believe someone is actually paying to spend time with you. Hope the loser doesn't rub off on them."

Jazz laughs. "Pretty sure any loser on my came from you. And it's four people. Actually, you know them."

When Danny comes downstairs Saturday morning and sees Jazz's students at the kitchen table, he stops dead.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says.

"Hi, Danny!" Paulina waves, far too perky for nine in the morning. Squished around the table with her, Kwan and Star offer their own small waves. Dash looks straight down at his textbook.

"Goodbye." Danny pivots and marches back toward the stairs. Forget breakfast; he didn't want to eat, anyway. He can still have a nice, relaxing, Dash-free day in the confines of his bedroom.

A cascade of whispers reaches his ears as he hits the first stair. The A-listers murmur too quiet for him to make out what they're saying, although he thinks he catches his name more than once. Maybe they're talking about how uncanny it is being inside his house. Or, perhaps, they're discussing the new school nurse, Tammy. But even as he thinks it, he knows neither theory is true.

A chair screeches in the kitchen, the plastic capped legs scraping against the linoleum. Danny throws himself up the stairs.

"Oh, Danny, wait!" Paulina's silky voice follows him.

He jerks to a stop at the landing, cringing. How mad would she be if he ignored her? It's funny to think that a few years ago his heart would have leapt at Paulina calling out his name, back when he had a crush on her.

His toes curl against the carpet as he hesitates; the pros and cons of ignoring her run through his head. Pro: he won't have to deal with whatever scheme she's up to, and Paulina is most certainly up to something. Con: she might sic Dash on him, and he's the last person Danny wants to see right now. But that's a moot point because Dash is already here. After some humming and hawing, he grits his teeth and turns back around.

Paulina hangs out the kitchen doorway, greeting him with a bright smile.

"Yes, Paulina?" Danny asks.

It should be physically impossible for her smile to get any wider, and yet it does. "You're having trouble in science class, right?"

Danny hesitates. "Maybe. Why?"

"So are we! We came here for a study session with your sister, since she was Casper's best student in thirty decades. You should join us!"

"Isn't Star acing all her classes? And I thought science was your best class."

Paulina rolls her eyes and huffs, but without any malice. It reminds him of the look Tucker gives his little cousins when they are being intentionally obstinate. Danny flushes, suddenly feeling stupid even though he doesn't understand why.

"Yeah, we're good at it, but the boys aren't. Duh." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is. "It's easier to study in a group."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I like studying alone."

Paulina's smile doesn't fall, but it changes. Danny can't quite place what it turns into. Her mouth curves upward and her teeth are exposed; objectively, it's still a smile. But there's a new tension to it, one Danny only notices now, but he thinks might have been there the whole time, lurking behind the bright façade. His grip on the newel post tightens, the wood creaking beneath his finger.

At times like this, Danny wishes his ghost abilities included reading emotions. The look Paulina is giving him is important, he can feel it, even though he can't explain it. But it doesn't mean anything if he can't decipher it.

"If you say so." The moment shatters. Paulina withdraws back into the kitchen, leaving Danny alone and wondering if he missed something important.

Down the hall from him, Jazz's bedroom door opens. She emerges with an armful of books—old schoolbooks, Danny notes.

"Not hanging out with Sam and Tucker today?" she asks.

"Jazz, it's not even noon yet. I don't think Tucker's awake." Danny glances down the stairs toward the kitchen, mulling something over in his head. "I kind of want some alone time today. I know you're tutoring and everything, but could you make sure they don't bother me?"

Jazz frowns. "Is everything okay?"

"There was an... incident with Dash at school."

"Boy troubles?"

"Jazz!" Danny's entire face turns scarlet. "Please never say that about Dash." He lowers his voice. "It was ghost-related troubles."

Jazz's expression goes stony, her teasing smile replaced by a serious frown. "Do I need to take care of him for you?"

"Oh, my God, Jazz! Just keep him away from my room!" He marches the rest of the way to his room to the sound of Jazz's snickers and slams the door behind him.

When Paulina returns to the kitchen, Dash sits up straighter. She shakes her head as she reclaims her seat next to Star. Dash deflates again.

"I told you this wouldn't work," Dash says.

"Don't be so silly. That wasn't even plan A, although it would make things easier. Are you sure you didn't do anything to him in that change room?" Paulina asks.

Dash groans. "Please. Please never say anything like that again. It sounds so wrong."

"You're the one who took it that way."

Star and Kwan laugh at Dash's misfortune, watching him bury his face in his arms. When Star suggested they gather evidence, to confirm whether or not Danny was being abused at home, this wasn't what Dash expected. He pictured spy movie antics with them sneaking through the bushes dressed all in black, peeking through windows until they say something that proved—or disproved—their theory.

Things would go a lot easier if Dash could actually talk to Danny, but ever since that moment in the change room, he can't. He knows Danny has been avoiding him, which is better short term. If Danny walked up to Dash right now demanding to talk about what happened, Dash wouldn't know what to say.

How many times has he hurt Danny (pushed, kicked, body-checked) when he was injured? There's a possibility, however slim, that this was a fluke, the first time Danny has ever come to school injured. There have to be loads of reasons someone might not go to the hospital, such as bad insurance. Dash's cousin broke her nose once and let it heal crooked instead of going to the doctor since it was cheaper. He's heard stories of people sacrificing their health rather than paying exorbitant hospital fees. It's not impossible.

Except Danny's parents are inventors. They do projects for the government and can afford to throw money around for ridiculous ghost hunting contraptions. The Emergency Ops Centre only two floors above them must have cost millions. If that's the case, then surely his parents can afford a hospital visit for such a bad wound.

Dash doesn’t like to think about the alternative, but he has to. The alternative is the whole reason he and his friends are here.

That doesn't help with Dash's other dilemma, though. How is he supposed to talk to Fenton, now? Dash doesn't think he knows how to interact with Danny without some form of aggression. Even when he stopped outright bullying people, he never stopped with Danny. A push here, a shove there. It is instinct for Dash to stick his foot out if he sees Danny coming.

Danny even returns the favour, sometimes, growing bolder the older they became. Dash still doesn't know how Danny keeps getting into his stuffed bear collection, but it's not unusual for him to find one in his locker or sitting at his desk when he returns to class.

It's what they do. Dash can't help it. Any time he manages to trip Danny up enough that he gets a glare or a vengeful smile, it makes him feel good.

But he can't do that now. If Danny is actually getting hurt at home, Dash can't in his right mind keep agitating him. Just thinking about what he did to Danny's stitches makes him pale. He doesn't even want to think about what other wounds he's made worse over the years.

And he has. Dash knows this without a doubt. Thinking back on their interactions this year alone, more than five occasions come to mind where Danny grimaced, or flinched, or clutched some part of his body after Danny bumped his shoulder in the hall. It feels him with an indescribable dread, but the worst of it is he can't understand why.

He never knew Danny was injured; he can't be entirely to blame. Thinking that does nothing to assuage his guilt, though.

"Okay!" Jazz Fenton announces herself with a bright chirp. She clutches a stack of textbooks to her chest; books Dash recognizes from their classes. The idea that she stole them from the school flashes through his mind, but that's ludicrous. Jazz doesn't have a criminally minded bone in her body. If anything, she bought them, or the school gave them to her for being that amazing. Either option is more likely than her committing a crime.

Jazz slams the books down on the table directly across from Dash. She flashes him a brilliant smile as she sits and folds her hands over the table.

"So, Dash." She tilts her head. Her smile no longer looks kind. "I've heard some interesting things about you."

Previous | Next

#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #dash baxter #swagger bishie #danny/dash #deepwounds

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andilovetowrite · 4 years ago

Text

The Chosen Couple (Part 1)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. (Not that you minded of course)

(Btw- the reader is an avenger, and Tony is kind of her father figure)

Warnings- None really, just tooth-rotting fluff and awkward confessions.

Word Count- 2.2k

Posted April 21, 2021

Here is Part 2 and Part 3

God, I hate the rain, you thought as you ran across the street, pulling your jacket even further up your head. You knew you should’ve bought an umbrella or even a raincoat, but since it was movie night, you didn’t even hesitate to run to Peter’s house after you dropped your bags at home. Every Friday was the same. Either you or Peter would have the privilege to pick what movie you guys wanted to watch, and then both of you would relax on the sofa until you left, or fell asleep.

This Friday was different though. It was the last day of school, so the day was even longer than usual. Everybody was just glad that the year was over, and summer had finally arrived. Sophomore year had been challenging, especially Physics, but you couldn’t wait for the next two months. Obviously saying goodbye to your friends had been bittersweet, but the feeling of relief of not having to do any homework or tests triumphed over the sadness. Tonight, you and Peter would watch movies until morning, and eat every possible snack you could find. The entire week had been leading up to this.

Trying to shield your face from the sharp drops of water, you finally reached the door, pushing it open with one hand, the other occupied with holding four huge packets of chips. Finally reaching the top floor, you dropped the bag on the floor, holding your knees and taking a breather. Hey, not all of us have superpowers to walk up seven flights of stairs and not get breathless. Pushing the jacket off your back, you knocked on the door, bouncing on your feet, waiting for Peter. A couple of seconds later, after the sound of a thud on the floor and May’s laughter, the door flung open, revealing a flustered Peter.

“Hey Y/n!”, he breathed out, smiling his signature grin before engulfing you in a hug. You felt his arms circle around yourself, pulling you close. Smiling slightly, you reciprocated, throwing your hands around his neck.

“Hi Peter”, you said, your voice muffled in his sweatshirt. Pulling away from him, you pushed him off me, laughing at the cute pout on his face. “I’m soaking wet with this thing on me.” Plucking the clingy jacket off yourself, you squeezed it, water splashing off it. Peter stifled a laugh, taking the bag out of your hands.

“Drenched, aren’t you?”

Elbowing him, you gave him the bags of snacks, muttering sarcastically. “That’s the sympathy I get for bringing the best food for our movie nights”

“Ooh, Doritos and… sour cream Lays!” He looked up at you, smirking. “You got the good ones.” Rolling your eyes, you nodded, walking inside the apartment.

“Is there any place I can dry this?”, you asked, referring to the sad bundle of cloth in your hand. Peter took it from you, despite your complaints.

“Let me do it. You are my guest”, he said, looking over his shoulder, winking and he threw it into the washing machine.

“Well, I am your guest every other day”, you shot back, walking into the kitchen. It was true anyway. The Parker’s house is your second house. The tower was nice and all, but with all the Avengers and Bucky and Sam constantly arguing, it can get annoying fast. Peter’s house is a shadow of calm in your life. Ever since you found out he was Spiderman, well, (he actually told you, but that’s a different story), you tried to come to his house every night to make sure he was fine. Tony had stopped you from fighting crime since last month due to exams, as well as Peter, but it didn’t stop you from coming and visiting him. You know, since he was your best friend.

“Hi sweetie!”, May called out, embracing you. Knowing where Peter got his talent for amazing hugs, you hugged her back, smelling the scent of warm cookies and cinnamon. Realizing that the smell of cookies was coming from behind her, you looked across, seeing a batch of cookies starting to burn.

“May! The cookies!”

“Oh-oh!” Running at them, she grabbed a towel, quickly pulling the burning hot cookies out of the oven.

“Here!” Pushing some of the items off the counter, you made some space for the tray of cookies. Dropping the tray down with a clatter, she blew on them, fanning the golden-brown discs with her hand. “They look awesome Aunt May!”

“Aww, thanks Y/N”, she said, staring at the cookies on the table. “They are, aren’t they?”

Smiling, you nodded, getting hungrier just looking at them. “Oh my god, what smells so good?” Peter called out, walking out of his room. Gesturing to the perfect cookies on the table, you pointed to May.

“Wait a second, they aren’t burned” Peter looked at May in astonishment, carefully taking one off the pan and biting it. “It tastes perfect May!” She merely smiled, walking over to the counter, grabbing her purse and some packs of gum. Now noticing her clothes, you called out.

“Where are you going, Aunt May?”

She looked back at me, quickly applying some lip gloss. “Oh just a night out with my friends. I need it. Plus-”, she glanced at the TV and then Peter, “- I know how loud movie nights can get.” You laughed, jumping off the chair and walking to the front door. Grabbing an umbrella, you gave it to her, mumbling about how to not make the same mistake you did. “Okay sweetheart. I’ll see you both in a few hours. I might stay over at Ashley’s house, but I’ll call you if that happens.” Kissing Peter on the cheek, she walked out, shutting the door behind her.

The minute the door closed, Peter jumped up, pulling you towards the sofa, showing you the array of snacks that he placed out. “Okay, so we have chips, chocolate, cookies that May made and there is ice cream in the fridge.” His eyebrows furrowed like he was remembering something but his eyes lit up in recognition when he was the small box next to the door. “Oh, and Mr Stark sent over a couple of things for us for tonight.”

Chuckling, you told him to get those, while you picked out the movie. Trying to choose one between Star Wars and Harry Potter, you chose the latter, knowing that you two were going to have a Star Wars marathon in the near future anyway. Grabbing the remote, you chose the first movie, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, pausing it to wait for Peter. Looking for him, you saw him standing at the door, the box lying open, untouched. He was holding a small index card, his face bright red.

“Hey Pete, you alright?” Worried, you slipped your hand under your shorts, feeling the edges of your dagger sitting over there. Pulling it out, you carefully walked over to him, thinking that something was wrong. However, when you got closer, Peter heard me, turning around so fast he hit his head on the wall. Crumpling the card in his palm, he threw it behind him, smiling nervously. “Are you okay? What was that?”

“Nothing”, he replied, too quickly. Quirking your eyebrow, you shrug, letting it go.

“What did Mr Stark send for us?”, you asked, trying to get a glimpse at the box.

“Uhh, just some snacks and drinks. I think there was some cold coffee in here as well. Why don’t I go heat us some?”, he said in a high voice, the same one he used when he lied.

Not even letting you get a look at the mystery box, he began pushing you towards the couch, mumbling something under his breath.

“Y/N, your t-shirt is soaked! Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, not wanting to go home and change. Seeing your expression, he pushed me down the sofa, telling me to wait. A beat later, he ran back, holding out a dark blue hoodie with a picture of Luke Skywalker on the back. “Here, change into this. Don’t wanna get a cold”

A half giggle escaped me as you took it from him, walking over to the bathroom as you changed into it. Pulling it on, the familiar scent of Peter embraced me. The plush inside of it felt warm against your skin, making me shiver involuntarily. Biting your lip, you looked into the mirror, liking the sight of Peter’s hoodie on me. The more you stared at your reflection, the fuzzier you felt. This just seemed like a very boyfriend thing to do. To be honest, you always thought of Peter as more than just a best friend. The first time you saw him was in 8th grade. You had just moved to Queens, due to your parent’s job, and you were quite excited. It had been a month since you had gotten your newfound power of controlling objects with your mind. It was hard. Your parents didn’t know about it just yet, and it was getting harder to block out your power off from simple everyday objects. You remember how one time you almost threw a plate at your mom because she was freaking out about your Math grades. Soon after you had moved in, you met Peter Parker. He lived across the street from you, wearing glasses and carrying lego boxes home most days. Since you were the same age, it was only a matter of time before you two became friends. And friends you became.

“Hey Y/N! You alright?”, Peter yelled out from the living room, cutting me out from your thoughts. Shrugging your shoulders, you walked out, seeing him sitting comfortably on the couch, chips, ice cream and some sandwiches in his hand.

“Delmars?”, you asked, nodding to the sub in his palm.

“Yup got it earlier” Pulling the sleeves into your hands, you brought the hoodie closer, loving the warmth. “Come here, I’m freezing”, Peter said, making ‘grabby hands. Chuckling, you carefully jumped in, arms curling his midsection. Resting your head on his shoulder, you grabbed the remote, pressing play.

On the screen, the intro of Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone began showing up, as Peter scrunched up his nose. “Wait, Harry Potter?”

“Yeah, it’s my turn? Remember?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s mine. The last time was yours.”

“But I had an extra one, right?”, you looked at him accusingly, “because you came and ruined my date.”

He looked down sheepishly, trying to hide the small smile. It had happened about 3 weeks ago when Brad Davis had asked you out. You couldn’t begin to explain how hard it was to explain to him why Spiderman had swooped me out of the sky to go help him do English homework. But truthfully, you weren’t vibing with him. He talked too much about sports and how much he worked out. No offence Brad, but you could backflip him out of a window within minutes. Sadly, he didn’t know that you were an Avenger, so you had to act like you were interested in his biceps for 2 hours straight. Thank god Peter had shown up, otherwise, you would have had a very awkward conversation with him.

“Fine fine”, Peter muttered, grabbing a few chips and stuffing them in his mouth.

“Aww, come on”, you said, threading your hands in his curls, “you love Harry Potter” Smiling cheekily, though it sent a twinge of pain through your heart, you teased. “Especially Hermione Granger”

His cheeks turning pink, he mumbled. “No, I don’t”

“Uh-huh”

“Alright alright, let’s just do this!”

“We have literally all summer, I’m sure we can spend some time discussing your crush on Hermione”

“In that case, let’s talk about Mrs Potter over here”

“Okay, I think we got it”, you said, making the word much longer. We grinned at each other, ready to watch the movie, as the intro began playing in the background. Little did you know that these beautifully crafted cinematic adventures that you guys were about to have would change your relationship with Peter forever.

Thanks for reading till all the way here! If you liked this, please follow me and I’ll send out the next part in a couple of days :)

Here is Part 2 and Part 3

#peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker #spiderman #marvel #fluff #movie nights #avenger reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #series #harry potter #tony stark

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding Part VI - Star Wars Time Travel AU

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V

Anakin watched Obi-Wan through the stalks for several minutes. He could see him kneeling at the base of the waterfall, occasionally glancing around, as if searching for someone. Just when he was about to break and interrupt him, Obi-Wan stood and walked over. They sat together on the low bench, surrounded by the carefully cultivated colored fungi.

“Obi-Wan...maybe we should talk about what’s going on with you. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” Anakin offered hesitantly.

Obi-Wan tensed, hands clenching in his lap.

“No.”

“Master Windu and Bant both seemed to think this isn’t a drug thing. Please, let-”

“That wasn’t what I was saying no to.”

Obi-Wan stood and began threading a path through the mushrooms, careful not to step on any of the smaller ones. Anakin was forced to follow directly in his footsteps, not wanting to risk damaging something Obi-Wan clearly seemed to care about, but wishing he could look at his Master’s face.

“Did I ever tell you about Bruck Chun?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No. Who’s Bruck?” Anakin responded with deliberate patience.

“He was an old crechemate of mine, quite gifted, though he had a temper. There have been times you remind me of him. We were rivals.” They were approaching the end of the alcove, a large stone overhang throwing them in to shadow.

“Were?”

“He died. When we were twelve.”

When they reached the rock face, Obi-Wan started climbing straight up. Anakin followed. Several clicks above the floor, Obi-Wan squeezed his way into a narrow crack, invisible from the floor below. Anakin followed. They awkwardly shuffled along the passage until Obi-Wan suddenly dropped out of sight. Anakin followed.

They landed in a hidden alcove. It was half lit by sunlight filtering in from cracks above, and half lit by the glow of mushrooms and crystals tenaciously embedded in the rock face around.

“Oh.” Anakin said softly. “Is this where you go when you visit the fountains to meditate?”

“No, I hadn’t been here in years.” Obi-Wan answered wistfully. “I started getting too big, didn’t want to damage the passageway too much. I figured some other younglings would stumble upon it someday like I did. I’m sorry. I avoided this room for the first year or two of your padawanship. By the time I even thought to share it, you had already grown so big...”

He sat down, legs stretched out in front. Anakin sat next to him, mirroring his position.

“I’m glad you’re sharing it with me now.” Anakin smiled reassuringly, but Obi-Wan was staring ahead blankly.

The young knight swallowed nervously. “Did you...come here with Bruck?”

Obi-Wan let out a snort. “Gods, no! I hid here from him. Before we were rivals, he bullied me relentlessly.”

“And...this is the guy you said I remind you of?” Was he being insulted?

“At times. Math lessons, saber practice, none of that ever came easy to me. But you and him...you never even needed to study. And you do have a vicious streak, Anakin.”

Rather than try to argue in vain against the slight hurt, Anakin just asked, “How did he die?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “He fell.”

Anakin jerked in surprise, “Wait, you mean-”

“We were fighting at the top of the waterfall- it- he had nearly killed Bant. He was angry that we both had been chosen by Masters, and Xanatos used that to manipulate him into helping with an attack on the temple. Bruck was lashing out. He was a better swordsmen, but his anger made him unbalanced. I knocked him back. And he fell. I’ve forgotten a lot of details about him as a person, but I still remember his body at the bottom of the falls.”

"That’s...awful. I’m sorry.” Anakin said helplessly. He had known the bare basics of Xanatos’s fall, but clearly not the full story.

Obi-Wan sighed, leaning slightly to press their shoulders together. Anakin scootched over to try and provide a little extra silent comfort.

“I thought I had learned to live with my guilt over my part in what happened to him, but I suppose recent events have torn open old scars, so to speak.”

Anakin held his breath, Obi-Wan didn’t add anything else.

“Obi-Wan” he tried to nudge gently.

“Hmm?”

Anakin lost his patience, jumping up. “Master, please!” He half yelled, looming over his Master. A flash of fear crossed Obi-Wan’s expression as he looked up, which immediately halted the fit of rage.

He knelt down penitently, “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, I shouldn’t have yelled, but please, let me help. I won’t get mad like that again, I swear. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

“You’re not.” Obi-Wan whispered, expression blank. He shuddered all over, fists clenching tightly.

“You’re NOT here for me!” Obi-Wan shouted, suddenly offended. “How can you POSSIBLY claim to be there for anyone after what you-” Obi-Wan seemed to choke on the words. He let out a strangled cry and pulled his knees up to his chest. Tears welled, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Anakin stared wide-eyed, cold all over. “This...this is about something I did. I don’t understand. You... told me a few hours that I’m dear to you, what...what could I have done since then to make you...I don’t understand.”

“You know what you did.” Obi-Wan let out. “And the fact that learning about it didn’t stop me from caring about you doesn’t help, it just makes the heartbreak a thousand times more painful.”

Anakin racked his brain wildly. This couldn’t be about his marriage with Padme, right? He told him this morning that he didn’t mind the sneaking off. There was only one screw-up big enough that could possibly warrant this severe a reaction, and only two people alive knew about that, both sworn to secrecy.

“The younglings,” Obi-Wan whispered. “You - you didn’t even spare the younglings.” Obi-wan looked gutted, terrified.

Anakin felt like he had been dropped in ice water. This was- this was his worst fear- that Obi-Wan would learn about his darkest failing as a Jedi and be ashamed of him, angry at him, would abandon him. He had already made his judgement. How could he have even learned about about the Tuskens?

“Padme-” he breathed out. “Padme told-”

“No!” Obi-Wan denied desperately, lurching forward. “Padme would never betray you! I would never betray you! We both love you, Anakin. Please, some part of you must know that! You must!”

His master seemed frantic, fingernails digging painfully into Anakin’s arm.

“You love me?” Anakin asked brokenly, heart cracked open.

Obi-Wan let go of Anakin to curl in on himself again. He seemed very small. It hurt to look at.

“I think its safe to say at this point that there’s nothing you could, no betrayal or atrocity you could commit that would make me stop loving you. Despite what you’ve done, you’re my brother, my son- of course I love you. The fact that I led you to doubt my love for you might be my greatest failing, though there are so many its hard to really say.” Obi-Wan sounded utterly defeated.

Anakin’s heart was pounding. This was a nightmare and a childhood dream. Obi-Wan loved him unconditionally, but he knew about his slaughter of the Tusken's and was ashamed. This couldn’t be real. He can’t know.

“Palpatine-” Anakin tried to ask.

Obi-Wan growled. “I do not need to talk about how that power-hungry liar systematically worked to tear us apart. I want to know why you would-” he cut himself off again.

Palpatine told Obi-Wan- that was more than he could even begin to process.

"I’m sorry, Master. I’m so sorry for failing you.” The words came desperately tumbling out, “I was just- I was so angry about my mom’s death and-”

“Your mother’s death? You killed innocent children for the sake of your Mother?! I don’t- how could anyone possibly rationalize-” Obi-Wan hissed out, truly angry for the first time that day. He took a deep breath and pulled himself upright.

“Your mother’s death was a terrible tragedy and I will forever regret my role in it. I should have tried harder to free her, for her own sake. I was so afraid that if I pushed for permission with the council they would think I was failing you, and they would take you from me. I made- so many decisions out of attachment, out of fear of losing you, and in the end I hurt you so badly you couldn’t trust me. You didn’t trust me with the truth of your visions, so I gave you bad advice born of misunderstanding, and your mother died horribly. I- I can see how you would blame the Jedi for that, even if its not rational. I certainly understand why you would blame me for that, why you would hate me because of her death.”

Obi-Wan scrubbed at his face mercilessly, practically tearing skin in his haste to wipe away snot and tears.

“But why, if you were getting revenge, would you kill the children and not me?” “Why couldn’t you just kill me and be satisfied?” He finally looked straight at Anakin, asking like it was a real question.

Anakin was horrified. After a few false starts he finally choked out, “Master, I love you. I told you, you’re the closest thing I have to a father. You’re the last person I could ever kill.”

“The last person you could ever kill,” Obi-Wan echoed back, looking pained.

“Please, Master, tell me how to fix this. I want to make things right. How can I fix things?” Anakin begged.

“That’s not a fair question. You can’t unmurder people. You can’t put them back together like a- an engine or a droid- ”

“There has to be something I can do to make you forgive me!” Anakin said desperately. “You can’t just tell me you love me and then say I’m an irredeemable monster!”

“Well that’s an entirely different matter, though no less cruel to think about.”

He leaned into Anakin’s side once more, the press providing a hint of warmth even in the unshakable cold. “Anakin, it isn’t very rational or fair of me, but it wouldn’t really take that much to get me to forgive you. Kriff, if you just acted sorry for what you had done.” Obi-Wan sighed.

“If you told me that you regretted the lives you took and swore you were going to stop murdering, force help me, I’d probably take you back in an instant. All I ever wanted was to help you be the best version of yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” Anakin said immediately. “I’m so, so sorry for what I did. I lost control of myself because I was scared, and angry, and suffering and, and then I was so scared that you would hate me that I pretended it was ok, and I told myself that they deserved to die, but how could children ever deserve to die and please Master I’ll throw away my lightsaber just please, please don’t leave me, I need you, please-” and the rest of the words dissolved into large, ugly sobs.

Obi-Wan keened and pulled Anakin into his lap like he was a child again. Anakin scrabbled at his cloak, desperately trying to hold on. The terrible chill that had been haunting him slowly started to fade away as he was rocked back and forth.

After a minute, Anakin got enough of a hold on himself to consider trying to stop blubbering like a crecheling on his Master’s robes. But he quickly realized that Obi-Wan was also crying, so instead threw his arms around the older man and let himself go.

An uncertain amount of time passed before they both slowed from heaving sobs, to dry hiccups, to quiet whimpers. Eventually they ended up laying in a heap, boneless but for their hold on each other. And finally, the cavern was more or less silent.

Anakin felt physically lighter, mind clear like he had just completed an extremely successful meditation session.

Without a word, they slowly shifted so they were leaning on the wall instead of sprawled on the ground. Obi-Wan pulled his robe off, first using it to wipe his face, then tenderly cleaning his Padwan’s.

Anakin just chuckled.

Obi-Wan threw the robe so it covered the two of them, which was a little gross, but that only made Anakin snort giddily.

They sat there peacefully for sometime. The shadows from above started shifting, and Obi-Wan sighed, “I really should go eat something.”

Anakin sighed back at him in agreement. They both stretched in the small space, joints popping.

“Do you need to walk through the rest of the gardens first?” Anakin asked.

“No,” Obi-Wan replied, tenderly fussing with his kid’s hair and robes so they looked presentable. “This was...more than I could have hoped for.”

Anakin beamed, giving Obi-Wan one last quick hug before gesturing upwards. “Time to get back to the real world?” he joked with a hint of regret.

“Time to get back to the real world.” Obi-Wan repeated heavily.

Part VII

#star wars #star wars au #my au #time travel #suicidal misunderstanding au #Its about the DOUBLE MEANINGS in every conversation #Its about not Understanding because UNEXPECTED TIME TRAVEL is involved but also they’re idiots #obi wan gets a hug #fanfic #star wars au no 27 #why anakin #just why

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ofendlesswonder · 4 years ago

Note

ah so exciting! would love number 25

25. “I need a place to stay.”

A shadow falls over Kara’s desk, and she pauses her proofread of her latest article to glance up at the person hovering by her shoulder, jaw dropping open when she gets a glimpse of messy blond curls.

“Carter?” It’s been months since she’d thought of him, longer still since she’d seen him, but the face is unmistakable, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “What are you doing here? Is your Mom here?”

She hasn’t seen Cat in months, either, not since she left to ‘dive’ into pastures new. No one has seen her recently, in fact—she’s effectively disappeared off the face of the earth, is only mentioned in gossip columns when they’re speculating her whereabouts.

Not that Kara has a Google alert set up for her name, or anything.

“No, she’s in Washington.”

“D.C.?” What on earth is she doing there? And what on earth is Carter doing here, backpack slung over his shoulder, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks blotchy like he’d been crying.

“Yeah. She took a new job there.”

Kara feels like he’s reading from a script she isn’t privy too, has no idea how any of this has led him to be here, standing by her new desk and scuffing his converse along the floor. “Okay…”

“But I don’t want to live there. I didn’t want to leave here, but she said it would be temporary. That we’d come back. Only now she wants to work in the stupid White House and she’s looking at apartments and a new school and I—I don’t want it. We had a fight.” He sniffs, rubs the back of his sleeve across his cheek like he’s scrubbing away the remnant of his tears. “And I said I wanted to come back. Live with Dad, if that’s what it took.”

Kara can only imagine how Cat would have taken that.

Not well, by any means.

“She sent me back, only I don’t want to live with my Dad, I want to live with her, but here in our old apartment. He wouldn’t even meet me at the airport. He said I was old enough to get a cab.”

Kara’s jaw tightens—she knows Chris is an asshole, but this seems like a new low, even for him.

“So, I got a cab, but not to him.”

“You came here, instead.” Here, to some semblance of stability, of familiarity. The apartment is gone—Kara had helped Cat list it for sale, and it had been snapped up in no time, and she wonders if Cat had ever really considered a move back to National City. The apartment is gone, but CatCo. is not, and Kara remembers countless afternoons where Carter had come by after school, curling up in Cat’s office with his homework. Sometimes, Kara had helped him with a particularly stubborn math problem, or talked to him about his favorite anime, keeping him entertained until his mother was off the clock.

“I need a place to stay,” he says, voice small, eyes glued to his shoes. “Can I come home with you?”

Yes, she wants to say, without hesitation, recognizing the small, scared child he so desperately tried to hide, the one who felt like he had nowhere else to go. Yes, of course you can—but it’s never that simple, is it?

She has a secret identity to protect, and he’s supposed to be with his father, and Cat might kill her, and—

Wait.

Does Cat know where he is?

“No,” he says, when she asks. “I didn’t tell her. And I turned off my phone, so she wouldn’t track me.”

“Carter.” She can’t help the admonishment, because she knows how much Cat cares about him—she’d do anything for him, and she imagines her pacing up and down a hotel room in the capital, already on the phone to the police. “You should call her.”

He makes a noise of discontent.

“At least let her know you’re safe. She’ll be worrying.”

“Can you call her?”

“I…I don’t know about that. I think it would be better coming from you.”

“Please?” He peers down at her with eyes so like his mother’s that Kara aches.

“All right,” she sighs, and makes the mistake of glancing across the bullpen. Snapper is glaring at her, his face red. Great. Someone else who wants to kill me. Could this day get any better?

“Kara?” Cat answers the phone sounding harried, and Kara recognizes the faint note of panic in her voice. She lets herself bask in the familiarity of it for one long moment—months, since she’d heard Cat’s voice, months, since she’d last felt the comfort of it. Months of missing her, in a way she knows she isn’t allowed to. “This isn’t a great time.”

“Uh, I know.” She looks at Carter, who avoids her gaze. “Something about a missing fourteen year old?”

“How…how do you know that?”

“Because he’s standing right in front of me.”

“Carter’s with you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Good question. Should I let him explain it for himself?”

Carter shoots her a sharp look, but Kara forces the phone into his hand anyway, pointedly turning away like she’s not listening as he lifts it to his ear. She stares at the blinking cursor on her computer screen as he talks, trying to summon the will to finish her work.

No such luck.

“Could you…could you keep an eye on him for me?” Cat asks, when Carter gives her back her phone. “I’m going to fly out as soon as I can, but it’ll be a few hours before I can get there. I know it’s an imposition, and he’s supposed to be with Chris, but he said he’d be more comfortable with you.”

Her gaze flickers to Carter, to the hopeful expression on his face, to the pleading note in Cat’s voice, thinks of the opportunity to see her again, even if for just one more day.

“Okay,” she says, and knows it’s the right decision when Carter lurches forward to wrap his arms around her neck. “I’ll watch him.”

“No runaway trains this time,” Cat says into her ear, and Kara laughs, remembering her last ill-fated babysitting attempt, a lifetime ago.

“I’ll try my best.”

***

The knock on her door comes at nine thirty, not quite loud enough to wake the sleeping teenager stretched out on her couch.

She pulls open the door, comes face-to-face with the woman she’s been trying so hard not to think about for the past few months, and Kara thinks, as their eyes meet, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, that she’s been fooling herself, because it all comes rushing back the second their eyes meet.

There was only ever one reason why things would have never worked with James, one reason why Kara hasn’t been able to so much as think about dating since they’d ended things, one reason why her life has felt so empty these past few months.

Only one person who could make her heart pound, set butterflies free in her stomach, make her palms—physically impossible though it may be—feel damp.

And that person is the woman standing in front of her now, her eyes as wild as her hair, mussed from the wind, a faint flush on her cheeks and Kara wonders if she’d raced up the stairs in those three inch heels, desperate to set eyes on her beloved son, to see for herself he was safe and well.

“Come on in,” Kara says, standing aside to let her past. It’s the first time Cat has been inside her home, and the gravity of the moment isn’t lost on her.

She’s glad she had the foresight to tidy up a little, while Carter had been in the shower.

If he’d noticed that the amount of cleaning she’d done shouldn’t have been possibly in such a sort frame of time by human hands, he’d had the grace not to mention it.

“I, uh, didn’t want to wake him up,” Kara says, pitching her voice low, when Cat gravitates toward the couch, gazing down at Carter with such open affection she feels like she has to look away. “Seeing as he’s had a hard day.”

She’d tried to distract him as much as possible, enlisting his help with the fun of filing while she’d been at work, and then with food and games once she’d taken him home. He looked like he’d needed it, lost in his head, spiralling over the choices that had been made for him, bits and pieces of his life over the last few months spilling out over the course of the afternoon.

“Thank you for looking after him.”

Kara shrugs. “It wasn’t any trouble.”

“Still. You don’t owe me anything. Not anymore.”

“On the contrary, Ms. Grant. I owe you a lot.” She’d forgotten how hard it was to think, with Cat’s eyes weighing heavy on her face. “My job, for example. I wouldn’t be a junior reporter without you.”

“Nonsense. You got that job on your own merit. Otherwise you wouldn’t be doing so well.”

“You read my articles?”

“Of course.” Cat looks offended she thought otherwise. “Is Snapper still giving you hell?”

“I think he likes to torture me.” Her nose wrinkles, and Cat laughs, some of her worry ebbing away now Carter is within her sights.

He’s still sound asleep, and Cat doesn’t look like she wants to wake him. Bathed in the glow of the lamp on Kara’s coffee table, she’s breath-taking, and Kara looks away before she’s caught staring.

“Do you, um, want a drink or anything?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose any more than we already have.”

Panic seizes her heart at the thought of Cat leaving so soon, because when would she see her again? Would she leave right away, ushering Carter back to the CatCo. jet and across the country before night truly fell? Or would she linger, perhaps let herself remember all the things she loved about this place?

Not that that would include you, you idiot.

“Please,” she says, trying not to listen to the voice in her head. “I…It would be nice to hear what you’ve been up to these last few months.”

For a moment, she doesn’t think it’s enough. Thinks Cat is going to leave anyway, slip away even though Kara only just got her back.

But then she blinks, and her lips curve into the smallest of smiles, and she says: “Very well. What have you got?”

Good question, Kara thinks, because probably not a lot. Whatever Alex and Maggie had left over last game’s night, which turns out to be a bottle of cheap whiskey Cat turns her nose up at. Kara doesn’t blame her—apparently it left a killer hangover.

“I’m trying to cut down on drinking,” Cat says, and her gaze flickers over to the back of the couch. “I’ve been told it’s not very healthy. Apparently it’s bad for my liver.”

A sentiment she’d never once shared before, but Kara bites her tongue. It’s none of her business, the ways in which Cat has changed. None of her business, to wonder if Cat’s been throwing down scotches to try and chase away the memories of the city she’d left behind.

“How about a tea?” Cat suggests, and Kara blinks at her.

There’s a request she’s never made before.

“Regular, peppermint or camomile?”

“Regular is fine.” Kara brews a pot, wonders why she feels so jittery, but she knows the answer. It’s because Cat is here, in her space, after so many months away. Here, in a place thus far untouched by her, and Kara knows when she’s gone she’ll feel the imprint of her, remember the way she’d stood, leaning against her kitchen counter, looking out of place and like she was exactly where she belonged at the same time.

“So,” she says, once she’s handed Cat a steaming mug. “Washington, huh?”

“Carter told you.”

“Only a little. He didn’t say what you were there for.”

“I was offered a job. White House Press Secretary.”

Kara nearly chokes on a sip of her own tea in shock. But then, she thinks, it makes sense. She could see it—Cat, at the front of a room full of reporters, tearing them apart if they dared ask her the wrong thing. She could certainly think of no better person to have fighting your corner than Cat Grant.

“Is that what you want to do? Get into politics?”

“It’s something I’ve considered.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“My, my,” Cat says, clutching her mug between long fingers and throwing Kara a lazy smile. “Look at you. Am I being interviewed, Ms. Danvers?”

Kara ducks her head, feeling her cheeks warm. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“It’s all right.” Cat’s voice is gentle, her eyes unguarded when Kara dares to look her way. “To be honest, I don’t know what I want. I thought getting away from here would bring me clarity, inspiration for my next big thing, but…instead I found myself wandering without purpose. Less a shark stuck in a tank and more a tiny goldfish, lost at sea.”

“Then why not come back? It...it’s not the same without you.” Too much, probably. Too close to spilling the truth, maybe, but it’s too late to take the words back now.

“Because my reasons for leaving haven’t changed.”

What reasons, Kara wants to ask, because the ones she’d been given had never made any sense. Cat handing over the reins to her beloved company just didn’t seem like something she’d do, especially without so much as a glance back. What reasons, Kara wants to know, but the line they tread is so thin—she thinks of Cat’s razor-sharp voice saying strictly professional and never wants to feel an ache like that again.

“And what about Carter?”

Cat glances toward the couch again and sighs. “I hadn’t realised he was so reticent until today. I know he struggles with change, but…I thought this would be a good one. He could go to a better school, have more opportunities. I didn’t know he was so attached to this place.”

“Of course he’s attached. It’s his home. It’s all he’s ever known, and you—no offence—are yanking it away from him.”

“I suppose you have a point.” Cat’s lips purse. “When did you get so wise?”

“Learned it from the best,” she says, and Cat’s smile is tight. “Are you…are you going back there tonight?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think Carter and I need to have a discussion, first. One where I listen to him instead of making the decision for him. I just…I thought I was doing the best thing for him. For both of us.”

“So you might stay?” She can’t quash the hopeful note in her voice, watches a shadow pass across Cat’s face and wonders what it means.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can.” Her fingers tremble, the tiniest amount, as she sets down her empty mug, runs them through her hair.

“Why?” Just do it, she thinks, because when she wakes up tomorrow, Cat might be gone, and there are too many unanswered questions for her to be left with. “What’s so bad about being here? What are you so desperate to get away from?”

“Oh, Kara.” Cat’s eyes close, a sigh rattling through her chest. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me to.” She knows she’s being obstinate. That there’s a reason Cat doesn’t want to tell her, that she has no right to know.

But she remembers Cat saying goodbye, Cat’s arms wrapped around her, heart beating so loud it was impossible for Kara not to notice, the shimmer of tears in her eyes before she’d blinked them away. Remembers the countless times Kara had reached out, over the past few months, only to be ignored, like she meant nothing when she knew she’d meant at least something.

“Please, Cat. I just want—”

She’s cut off when Cat surges forward, settling one hand on the counter beside Kara’s hip and wrapping the other around the back of Kara’s neck, drawing her down into a kiss. Kara freezes, brain short-circuiting as Cat’s lip brush against her own, soft and warm, but when she feels Cat begin to pull away, her bravado failing, she snaps into action, discarding her mug on the counter and splaying a hand at the small of Cat’s back to keep her close.

It’s been building for years, she thinks, as Cat parts her lips for Kara’s searching tongue, nails digging into the base of her skull. Years of working closely together, a spark igniting but neither of them willing to give it space to grow, too terrified of what might happen, if it grew into a fire they could no longer control.

“That’s why,” Cat breathes, when she pulls away, heart hammering almost as fast as Kara’s.

“Seems like a pretty good reason to stay to me,” Kara says, leaning in to kiss her again, but Cat stops her with a shake of her head.

“It’s not. Kara, you shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want me.”

“I know,” she says, and when Cat flinches, she doesn’t let her pull away. “I know there are a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t, why we shouldn’t be together, but I also…don’t really care. I’ve spent the past few months missing you like crazy, and it hasn’t diminished the way I feel about you. Doesn’t that mean something? Doesn’t that mean it’s worth trying?”

“I…” Cat trails off, meets her gaze and traces the pads of her fingers across Kara’s cheek, looks at her like she barely believes she’s real. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to.”

“You start by letting me in. By not running away when—” She hears movement on the couch, hopes to Rao Carter hasn’t heard any of their hushed conversation. “Carter’s waking up.”

Cat is quick to slip from her arms, and Kara feels the loss of her like a physical ache, chilled to the bone in the places she’d just been burning with warmth. “I don’t want this to be the end of it,” she says, knowing Carter’s not yet fully conscious, knowing they have a few more stolen moments. “I don’t want you to go to your hotel room and talk yourself out of it.”

“Kara Danvers, are you asking me to spend the night?”

“No, because I know you’d turn me down.” She can sense it, in the nervous energy radiating from her. Cat isn’t a person who lays her heart on the line, is someone guarded and careful, isn’t reckless the way she had been tonight. She needed time to process, time to think it through, and Kara would give her that—as long as she wasn’t going to slip away without saying goodbye. “But we should talk. Tomorrow.”

“Before five.”

Kara frowns. “Why five?”

“Because that’s how long the Press Secretary job is on the table for.”

“You haven’t accepted it?”

“Not yet,” she says, and Kara feels hope bloom in her chest. “I told them I had some things I need to consider first.”

“And now?”

“Now I have even more things to think about.” She reaches out, catches Kara’s fingers with her own and squeezes, and Kara’s heart thuds in her chest. She wants to lean down, wants to kiss her again, already misses the heat of her mouth, but a head pops over the back of the couch, Carter rubbing at his eyes.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi Mom’ me,” Cat says, eyes narrowing until Carter gulps. “Do you have any idea how worried I was, young man?"

“I’m sorry,” he says, his head hanging. “But I wanted to stop you doing something stupid, and this was the only way I know how.”

And thank Rao he had. Her day would have shaken out very differently had Carter not arrived in the bullpen, she knows. She’d have finished her article and gone to hang out with Alex and Maggie, probably, tried to ignore the ache seeing the two of them so happy seems to incite, lately, craving something similar for herself.

“Hm. Well, we’ll talk about it later. For now, I think we’ve taken up enough of Kara’s time, don’t you?”

Not enough of it, Kara thinks, but she bites her tongue. Space. Time to process. Not snuggling up together on the couch with a movie.

“Thanks for today, Kara.” Carter looks only a little sheepish as he gathers his things, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Any time, buddy,” she says, meaning it more than he’ll probably ever know. The urge to kiss Cat goodbye is so strong she can barely stand it, and she balls her hands into fists at her sides so she doesn’t reach for her. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?” She asks, before Cat slips through the door, dizzy with the feeling of being on the cusp of something she’s wanted for so long.

“Tomorrow,” Cat agrees, looking like it pains her to say it, looking like she doesn’t know how she’s possibly going to muster the will to leave, green eyes so heavy on Kara’s face it feels like a caress, feels like the ghost of her kiss, makes her feel like she’s burning from the inside out. “Goodnight, Kara.”

Goodnight, and not goodbye, and Kara hovers in the doorway, watches them go down the hall.

“You are in big trouble,” she hears Cat say as they turn the corner, slipping out of sight. “What were you thinking?”

And she shouldn’t listen, she knows, but she catches her name, as they start down the stairs, and can’t help but tune in to a snippet of conversation.

“I was thinking I missed home, and that I was sick of you moping after Kara for the past eight months, and it was time someone did something about it,” Carter says, then: “Ow!” as Cat must smack him over the head.

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.”

“But did it work?”

“None of your business.”

“It totally worked.”

Kara shakes her head, unable to bite back a smile as she steps back inside and lets the door shut behind her.

#supercat #supercat:fanfic #this was supposed to be short... 🤷‍♀️

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walviemort · 4 years ago

Text

Fairy Godfather, part 2

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! This is kind of consuming me so you’ll be getting these pretty often, I hope! thanks to @sancocnutclub for all her encouragement ;)

rated T / 2.2k words / part 1 / AO3

He didn’t wake until mid morning the next day, and was still fairly fatigued, but otherwise felt alright—just a bit tender about the middle.

A shower helped dissolve most of the lingering soreness, and he took some time in front of the mirror to look for any changes.

Given that his stomach had never returned to its previous hardened state, it was hard to notice any discernible change in shape, but when he poked around, there was definitely a rounded area that hadn’t been there before.

He also took a moment to memorize his body as it was; it wouldn’t be long before the babes made their presence visibly known, and the changes that happened while pregnant with Hope were still fresh in his mind. He was both glad that Belle was keeping track of his stats, and already dreading it.

But she was probably waiting for him, so he needed to get a move on—and something to eat; he was starting to feel peckish, but couldn’t tell whether or not it was more than usual.

His normal jeans still fit comfortably, albeit a hair snug. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d relish it while it did. At least his shirts would last longer; he’d found a new appreciation for the forgiving cotton knits of this realm in his second trimester.

Emma was already at the station when he got downstairs, but she’d left behind plenty of pancakes, and he ate a few more than normal; he wasn’t sure how to interpret that.

Before heading to the library, he went to pick up Hope from her sleepover with her grandparents. David greeted him at the door, with tiny Ruth asleep on his chest.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked, hardly able to keep his eyes away from Killian’s midsection.

“Fine, as far as I could tell. Weird, but fine.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No, thankfully, but I’m sure there will be plenty of aches and pains later.”

David winced. “Man, am I glad they asked you and not me. This one was enough,” he said, patting Ruth’s back gently.

“I don’t disagree, but…”

“But you feel like you owe them,” David finished.

“Aye.”

“Well, I think it’ll be the other way around by the end of this, but we’ll help you out as much as we can.”

“I appreciate it—and I’m sure we’ll need it with this one,” he replied, nodding at Hope, who was attempting to escape out a window.

She was easily wrangled, though, and happy to see him. He had no idea what fairy infants were like, but if they were half as charming as his daughter (who definitely took after her grandfather), this whole town would revolve around them.

As he thought, Belle was waiting for him, tape measure in hand. “Seriously?” he griped as he set Hope down next to Gideon in the playpen behind the circulation desk.

“You can’t possibly be surprised,” she threw back. “But if it’s any consolation, I won’t do it again until next week.”

“You only did it monthly last time around.”

“You were only carrying one babe.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Though his waist measurement remained unchanged, his weight was slightly higher (more than could be expected by a few extra pancakes). “I can feel it,” he confirmed when she asked. “There’s definitely something in there, though I only notice it if I go looking for it.”

Belle made a note and then flipped back and forth between some pages. “That matches up with when you found out you were expecting Hope; so do your measurements, and that was, what 8 weeks?”

“Yeah, thereabouts.”

“Second pregnancies do show sooner, too.”

“Especially this one,” he grumbled.

“Oh yeah,” she agreed.

The day continued normally, although his hand did gravitate to his stomach pretty often, without thinking about it. Even if it wasn’t noticeable, he still knew what was there, and his subconscious seemed to have already set out to protect it—that, or his hormones were already starting to affect him.

Based on his reaction when Emma arrived that afternoon—particularly to his train of thought when she bent down to pick up a napping Hope—it was definitely hormones. His jeans felt a very different kind of tight then; something he acted on later that night, after a slightly larger than usual dinner.

“Those hormones kicked in fast,” a sated Emma breathed as they came down from their shared high. “You haven’t been that voracious since we found out we were having a girl.”

“Are you complaining?” he panted.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.” And they went for another round.

In fact, he was so insatiable the next couple of weeks that, despite his elevated appetite, no other discernible change in his weight was noticed; his waist actually went down a bit.

“Are you feeling alright? Keeping food down and everything?” Belle asked, worried, as she recorded his 2-week measurements, comparing them to his 10-week from his first pregnancy. “Last time, you couldn’t eat more than chicken rice about now.”

“Trust me—I feel more than fine,” he assured her. “Were it not for Emma’s implanted contraception, we’d likely need to be planning for a more traditional pregnancy.”

“That’s a very eloquent way of saying you can’t keep your hands off your wife.”

“I could have phrased it crudely—how many synonyms for ‘sex’ did you want Gideon to learn today?”

“None!” she exclaimed, covering her son’s impressionable ears. He was at the age when he repeated anything said around him—a fact they noticed when Gideon’s favorite phrase became “bloody hell.”

“What are uncles for, though?” he teased with a wink.

Belle just groaned and threatened to teach Hope how to read with romance novels. Killian, however, was just glad she slept through the night so she didn’t interrupt the real thing.

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

Where there had been some hubbub about town during Killian’s first pregnancy—and quite a lot of gawking—no one seemed as shocked this time around. They’d made no effort to keep it a secret, letting the Storybrooke rumor mill do its job, but either the town was more aware than Killian had been about fairy reproduction, or they had become jaded to such magical oddities (he assumed the latter).

That said—he had to assume the gawking would eventually return.

Especially with the way Granny was feeding him. To be fair, she wasn’t letting him overindulge, but he’d noticed his portions were larger, and the amount of vegetables increased. He wondered if Blue had given her some nutritional instruction, or if it was just her innate grandmotherly instincts.

The first time she slid an extra helping of broccoli over, he tried to protest, delicious as it looked.

“Oh no—eat up, young man,” she commanded. “If my math is right, you’re eating for 10. I should probably be feeding you more, actually.”

Emma snickered next to him—they were on lunch break from the station—but he wasn’t sure if it was at Granny’s tutting or the fact that Killian had just realized the magnitude of…well, all of it.

So when Granny slid some extra onion rings across the counter, he didn’t complain (but obviously shared them with his wife).

He wanted to blame it on those extra treats—onion rings, fries, pie, muffins—when they noticed an expansion in his waist measurement at 3 weeks, but it was definitely the babes; he could still wear his normal jeans, but was seeing some rounding behind his navel.

And at 4 weeks—a month since the babes were transferred—it could finally be deemed a bump: there was a gentle curve to his whole stomach, from just under his pecs to his hips (which had been aching a bit as they widened some, likely in anticipation of the heavy load to come). Given the way he and Emma’s evening activities hadn’t slowed, he knew it was all the babies.

Belle hummed as she compared the notes she’d just taken with those from last time. “Well, that’s interesting,” she commented.

“What is?” Emma asked; she’d joined them for that week’s check in, curious to see where things were.

“This week’s measurements match up with those from the end of the first trimester last time, which I suppose isn’t a huge surprise, but…”

“But I have a lot more to go than two trimesters,” he finished.

All eyes were on his stomach for a long while after that, likely all wondering the same thing: just how large would he get?

The only thing that took their attention away was the ringing of the bell over the door as someone arrived—Blue, it turned out. “Hi,” she greeted, clearly trying to be casual. “Just wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”

He wasn’t naive enough to believe she’d stay away from him for the duration of the pregnancy, although he had expected more subtle surveillance.

They chatted briefly about how he was feeling, and she studied his stomach with an outstretched hand, he assumed to do her own magical assessment. “Yes, they seem to be doing quite well; that’s good.”

“Did you think they weren’t?” Emma quipped.

“No, of course not,” Blue assured her. “Would it be odd to express my excitement?”

Well, they all understood that. “How long has it been since your last brood?” Belle had to ask.

“Over fifty years,” Blue answered. “They’re usually every five to ten, depending on the solstice.”

“And when you don’t have a series of curses in the way,” Emma added.

Blue glanced over Belle’s notes with interest. “That does seem to match up with past broods, though I don’t think anyone ever thought to take such detailed notes.”

“Are there any?” Belle asked. “I don’t have anything here, but if you had some back at the convent, it’d be great for comparison.”

“I’d have to check our library,” Blue answered. “There might be a few scrolls, but we’re not much for recorded history.”

“I can tell,” Belle complained.

After some more chatting, Blue excused herself, but did ask if it was alright if she checked in periodically.

“Of course,” Killian said. “It’s your brood. Plus, I’m certain we’ll need to take you up on the offer of help sooner rather than later, if this is where I’m already at after only 4 weeks,” he added, gesturing to his still-small bump.

“Absolutely,” Blue said. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled her wand out of nowhere and twirled it at Killian’s midsection. His skin grew warm for a moment, but then returned to normal. “I’m not sure if the original spell will account for the size, as far as how it treats your skin; that should eliminate any damage.”

“No stretch marks?” he wondered.

“No—not any new ones, at least.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

She then left as quickly as she appeared.

“Guess that’s something we’ll have to get used to,” he sighed, and then they went about their day. But he was starting to grow very concerned about what lay ahead for him; he knew this wouldn’t be a small feat, but was worried it would be more than he could handle.

As time progressed, his bump steadily grew, though not unnaturally so. At 5 weeks, it was yet more noticeable; at 6, he finally had to concede defeat and dig out his maternity jeans, though they were still plenty roomy. By the end of the second month, he wasn’t quite where he’d been at the end of his second trimester, but it was definitely a baby bump—roughly where he’d been around 24 weeks with Hope, even though he was only at 8 with this one.

It was around then, though, that he noticed the first flutterings inside. He thought he’d noticed it the week before, but chalked it up to gas or something like that; Granny had been feeding him a lot of black beans lately. But late one night, after yet another glorious session of lovemaking, Emma’s hand had drifted to his belly and even she took notice.

“Wow, they’re actually starting to move in there, huh?”

“Seems like it. You don’t suppose they actually have wings already, do they?”

“Normal babies hardly have limbs at this stage, so probably not.”

They lay peacefully in the afterglow for a bit, before he asked quietly, “You are okay with this, right?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d ask, nor was it likely to be the last. But it was a large undertaking and though she hadn’t exactly protested, he knew it wasn’t something she’d have volunteered for.

“For the hundredth time, yes. Even if this was partly fueled by guilt, I know you probably would have agreed anyway, and that big heart is why I love you so much. And can I say something else?”

“What’s that, love?”

“I was so attracted to you with that baby bump last time, even when you thought you were massive. So as long as your libido holds out, I think we’re both going to be very happy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, I think I might need some convincing.”

“Then let me show you.” And oh, she did.

Gods, he prayed he’d be able to do that for a while. The next several months were going to be very interesting.

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @88infinity88 (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #fairy godfather #my ff

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 11 - Student Council President Sakura / Graduation Chapter

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Youtube playlist for your reading accompaniment

They held a run-through of the graduation ceremony on the last day of class and technically the last day of the trio’s high school life. Unlike their first general assembly, Uchiha Sasuke was to deliver the graduation speech but not without great sulking from Haruno Sakura who landed a close second despite ranking first in their final exams.

And obviously, not without Sasuke trying to give up his speech privileges by campaigning instead for Sakura.

In the end, all three of them were granted speech slots – one for Sasuke as valedictorian, Sakura as student representative, and Naruto as the school’s first national MVP. It was this debacle that led the three of them to brainstorm in an empty AVR after the dry run.

“Done!” Sakura yelled like the diligent student she was. “Let me look at yours!”

Sasuke presented her a blank paper while saying, “It’s all prepared in my head”, and Naruto showed her his baseball doodles.

“Oh God, you’re all so hopeless.”

Then the electricity suddenly got cut off in the AVR. Sakura expected the boys to screech in surprise and cling to each other, but she only heard silence in the dark. She jumped in her seat when the doors opened with a loud bang, a confetti splash, and the lights coming back to life.

Sasuke and Naruto were still in front of her, holding two bouquets of irises and yellow roses. Behind them were the old and new student council members with other students holding a large banner saying Thank you, Student Council President Sakura!

She started to leave her seat to come to them, but they gestured for her to stay on her seat. In front of the room, the large monitor beeped and showed a compilation of videos.

Sukehiro Aoi, an alumni and currently an intern in an animation studio. “Hello, Ms. Pres. You once asked the body to submit a publication material for an event of the student council, and I sent mine through a dummy email with no expectations of winning. I wasn’t comfortable with the public seeing my art. I was afraid of the unsolicited remarks so sending it anonymously gave me some relief. You chose it however, and you knew how big a credit was to an artist. I was really scared when you were able to hunt me down just by my watermark, but my name in the info blast caught the attention of a school board member and referred me to this animation studio. It was the littlest thing, but you handed me my dream.”

Watanabe Kota was a year below them. He has a small frame, round thick glasses, and battled with face acne. “Ms. Pres! People never had much confidence in my physical appearance, so I don’t know what you saw in me when you asked me to take over the school radio. But here we are – we’re airing daily and we even produce documentaries and radio programs. Thank you for seeing what I didn’t.”

Ito Amanaya, a typical jock in the football team, muscular and came across as intimidating, but he had the gentlest cadence. “I was bullied by the same group that bullied your dynamic duo. When you ran them off, you also saved my life. Thank you, Haruno.”

Kimura Shinze, a classmate in third year, beautiful, popular, and the captain of the cheering squad. “Hope you’re having a great day, Ms. Pres. Remember that time when the class was guessing who were our crushes and I blurted out that it was a girl, you told me thank you for telling us. That was…a big deal to me. Thank you for that gesture.”

Himurata Aoi, president of the koto club. “Sakura, I know you had many people come up and confessed to you so when I did try, I was glad that you didn’t give me a bullshit reason like you’re not into girls. You turned me down because you have someone you already love. I am thankful for your honesty.”

The biology teacher, Takahashi Kande. “Student council, thank you for your mental health program. As a single father to twins, I don’t have the luxury of time to sit in a couch and sort out my issues. To be able to do that in my workplace during breaks is a heaven-sent gift. You saved me and my family. Thank you.”

Many more messages came on, from a classmate she lent spare change to, from a staff she helped clean, from countless students who she wasn’t aware she gave kindness to.

“Why….” She asked breathlessly.

“You’ve been beating yourself lately. We thought you needed some reminding,” Sasuke muttered, under his breath, the bouquet still in his hands. “You left some pretty big footprints, Ms. Pres.

“You might not have noticed,” Naruto jested. “But this is always innate and natural to you, isn’t it?”

“Why did you bother so much?” She was reduced to tears.

“It was Naruto’s idea.”

“Huh? You did all the compiling though!”

“Shut up, it was me,” yelled the current president.

“Thank you, everyone.”

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

It was a weekend, but Sasuke requested Sakura and Naruto to meet him at the school gates. He only gave the time and place, and he knew well enough that they would be there – no questions asked.

They stood there, minutes earlier than planned, a first but nothing more unusual than homebody Sasuke asking them to go out on a weekend. Sakura wore an oversized rust shirt over a pair of muted cotton blue trousers tied with a brown leather belt and tan fisherman sandals, her long hair kept in one single braid at the back. Naruto probably expected a fancy lunch with his outfit – black silky long sleeves over gray pants and black loafers.

Sasuke, high on impulsive decisions, wore bright colors, a complete departure from his usual neutrals; mustard vest over a deep violet polo, baggy pants, off white converse, and a white fanny pack. “Well, we’re mostly dressed for comfort, except for that idiot beside you.”

“What do you mean dressed for comfort? I borrowed these loafers from my vice-captain and my feet aren’t used to them,” Naruto whined. “Besides, aren’t you taking us out to a five-star meal, Mr. Valedictorian?”

“Wow, what a way to show off.” Sakura pursed her lips in annoyance. “Don’t worry Naruto, I got your next café order.”

“Ah no. It was just something we heard from the grape vine.” Naruto scratched his head and carefully glanced at Sasuke. “Grumpy got his trust fund today.”

In bated breaths, they waited for him to respond with a scowl or a retort, but he just nodded. “Come on, we’ll miss the train.”

They traveled for three stations and disembarked on the fourth, Sasuke sandwiched in between the two, his shoulders pillows again to their heads and yet such burdens were light as cotton. The surfacing emotions since last week were taking hold of him, but he needed to pull through somehow because breaking down while commuting was one thing he did not really see doing.

“Word just got in. The house was turned over this morning,” Itachi told him over the phone.

“Impeccable timing when I’m also moving abroad next week.” Sasuke pulled out his Bleachers vinyl and anticipated another lonesome lull for the night.

“Do you miss the cream puffs?”

“Nothing comes close.”

“Hmm. I’ll pay for the rental fee of your car.”

In Itachi’s defense, while he was an afficionado of escapism, he also knew how to read between the lines. “Watch me get a Mercedes-Benz.”

“I have a good driving playlist.” This only meant math rock, and Sasuke wanted something to scream his lungs too.

“Don’t need one.”

“Treat your friends to dinner, okay? Gotta go.”

“We’re walking?!” Naruto almost limped out of the train. Sasuke took one look at his heels and saw that they were bruised red. He took off his converse and socks and gave them to him.

Sakura whipped out a small first-aid kit and covered the rash on Naruto’s heels. “Hey don’t look at me like that. Brought it just in case we’re going on a day survival tour. A camping would be nice too.”

“Did you scrub your feet, idiot?”

“You think so low of me grumpy. Of course – last week!”

With Naruto now comfortable, the three resumed walking on the unfamiliar residential area. Sasuke gestured for them to enter a bamboo forest on the far side of the main road. Hidden in the shadows of the clumped stalks were a small opening, the growth hampered and ground rid of grasses and weeds; many people have also chosen this shortcut, walked through the forest, did a little nature bathing, and emerged behind the bakery, still there, still standing, still operating.

Sasuke tapped on the large glass window cum counter on the front and bought three sets of cream puffs.

“Oh, it’s you,” the old baker greeted. “You brought your friends over? You always buy one set.”

Sasuke offered her a smile, briefly glancing to his periphery where Sakura was fussing with Naruto’s feet, and nodded as he accepted the paper bag. “It’s on the house, kid.”

“You brought us to stalk someone’s house?” Sakura dug in one paper bag, bit the puff in one bite, and with full mouth, she sighed. “This is heaven.”

“It’s our old family house, before the accident that is.” Sasuke also took out one puff and munched on it, ruminating on the sight before him, a two-story house with an imposing façade, his mom’s climbing hydrangea gone and cut by the new owners, beds of roses and daisies already withered, but the wisteria tree on the vacant lot beside continued to grow and shade what he supposed were the children’s rooms. It was in his third bite that he saw the tomato fruits he planted, alive and full with harvest. “Do you think my parents know?”

Naruto slid an arm across his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. “Then they would be happy ghosts or maybe they would voluntarily move away to give the new owners the opportunity to make it a happy a home like yours.

“What part are you gonna miss?” Sakura asked, halfway through her set of puffs.

“The sight of the wisteria before I sleep and after I wake up, and the sunlight in my parents’ room. My dad liked to make these suncatchers for my mom. The play of light was a good morning greeting, she said.”

“What’s your funniest memory?” Naruto sat on the grass, uncaring for the stains that would taint his good pair of pants.

“It was probably Christmas when I was seven, and Itachi had this big idea to bake a cake, but he swapped the sugar for the salt and we were wondering why it wouldn’t make a custard. Our parents still ate it, saying it was a very salty version of dark chocolate cake.”

“It was a good home,” Sakura patted the space between her and Naruto and Sasuke sat down cross-legged too, dipping his hand on the paper bag with the last cream puff.

“It was a good home,” Sasuke agreed as he bit into the last vestige of his family memory. He was suckling the powdered sugar off his fingers when he realized he was already crying, and the two were downright sobbing on his either side.

Such an embarrassing sight to see; he wondered what would the new owners feel if they looked out their windows this instant and saw three teenagers breaking down on the road across. It was honestly stupid and laughable to a point, considering how funny it was for grief to become lighter when someone else cried with him.

Naruto was sniffling so much that he had to offer his handkerchief to him. “I forgot to tell you guys. Hinata confessed to me during the cultural festival.”

“Oh my god. What did you say?” Sakura took a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes. She flashed an apologetic look to Sasuke who already offered his hanky to Naruto’s fluids.

“Ah, what else? I had to reject her.” Naruto sneezed on Sasuke’s handkerchief again. “I told her I was in love with someone else.” He slyly glanced at his raven-haired friend and pursed his lips which Sakura quickly caught.

“Who is it?”

“Sasuke also likes someone.”

“Shut your mouth, blondie. Point is already moot. Besides, we’ve already been rejected.”

“Who are these people and why don’t I know them?” Sakura genuinely looked offended. “I could have vetted them!”

“Exactly why it was fortunate you didn’t meet them,” Sasuke said as an excuse though he pegged Sakura for not being that naïve. She, thankfully, let it go and gathered their trash. She dropped the bomb as she was brushing the grass blades from her trousers. “My parents are divorcing. Such a travesty not to have them show up on graduation day, and I thought I did a great job.”

The two, ever so sure, held onto her hands in case she was trembling again.

“Let’s get that five-star dinner,” Sasuke suggested, “and we need to rent a Mercedes-Benz.”

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

Graduation Day

“Let’s welcome to the stage, class valedictorian, Uchiha Sasuke.” Kakashi was the officiating faculty today so she expected difficulty going through the event, but for some reason, he slipped into her mental back burner, no longer taking up room in her active consciousness. That was a good step, she smiled to herself. Her smile became wider as Sasuke got up the stage.

His fans club’s cheers were heard outside the auditorium, and the graduating class chuckled at the quick interruption. He cleared his throat and started his piece.

“Please get it on record that I was coerced to do this speech. Then again, I also had a hand on the turn of events that led me here today, in front of you. And it’s a little too on the nose, but I came to high school with a clear set of goals – have high grades and lead an uninteresting life. I accomplished the first one rather easily, and it’s a good metric for the future that’s upon us right now. Good grades land us good colleges. Good colleges land us good jobs. Good jobs land us good life.

But it’s not the sole benchmark as I have learned lately. You see, my second goal really missed the mark. Good life can also mean good friends, fun experiences, a caring environment, a complete family. If you ticked off each one, then that’s very notable. You have the four-leaf clover, and it’s a rare blessing. I only ticked off three, but that goes without any regret. If you only have one silver lining in your high school memory, then that makes us all the more human. And if there’s none, there is still is still a whole stretch of possibilities we can discover to find one. Thank you for your kind attention.”

Sakura was pretty sure she heard several sniffles across the student body. “The bastard delivered a good speech,” she muttered to herself.

“We would like to welcome our first national MVP, Uzumaki Naruto.”

Outside, the school band played the cheering anthem for his last national games. The cheerleaders also did a routine in tribute to him. That made him well up when he got to the podium.

“Wait oh my god, I’m tearing up so much.”

Sasuke grunted loudly and went back the stage to hand him a handkerchief which Naruto quickly used to wipe his snot.

“Thanks Sasuke. How can Kakashi-sensei let me follow after that rousing speech, and before Sakura too. It’s kinda evil.”

Laughter broke out.

“Well, this one’s a bare minimum. I didn’t have any goals or expectations, unlike genius grumpy over there. I just wanted to live my life like an ordinary boy. Someone said that how you spend your day is how you live your life so I did just that – ate ramen, slept in class because I am a growing kid, and played each arcade game until I won them. I also believe in serendipitous – thanks Sakura for this word, for the spelling and meaning – serendipitous coincidences. I just pitched and batted for former captain Haru one afternoon and now we landed in the national finals. I had loneliness for a friend, but now I’ve got all of you. And you know what else, the magic of working together. We wouldn’t have stepped foot in the nationals if it weren’t for your collective help. When we work towards a common goal, that also gives us common happiness, right? It’s infectious, a bouncing energy that gets thrown around and still makes it one piece. So wherever you will be after this, believe it!”

When Kakashi called her name next, she thought she was deaf, the noise around her collapsed in muted decibels. It took a minute before her fellow classmates shook her and motioned for her to quickly come up the stairs. Her silver-haired teacher looked so concerned in the shadows, but for what it was worth, she was civil and calm enough (at least in the matters concerning him) to nod at him in quiet exchange of assurance.

It was because she saw both of her parents at the side with a bouquet of roses. She struggled with the paper she brought with her although she had it memorized in her head; she even went through it flawlessly for three times last night. Tears blurred the words and the mere shock of the sight of their togetherness disabled her mental function to string coherent thoughts. She also started hyperventilating, her breaths coming faster than what her lungs could pump.

Then she felt Kakashi’s hand on her shoulder, a steady presence, and it reeled her back to reality. He tapped the mic and the feedback echoed. “Ah, Ms. Haruno had some technical issues. Again, let’s welcome former student council president, Sakura.”

Sasuke and Naruto in the front were almost standing, but she flashed them a smile as if to say she was okay now. “Hello, good day to our honorable guests and graduates. I think it’s safe to say that Sasuke and Naruto provided really good words of advice. So I have nothing more to offer, but to share my gratitude. Everyone was saying the student council did a good job in its programs, but it was actually the lot of you who made this possible – from your activity suggestions to participation and feedback. After all, you were the makers of your memories.

Earlier last week, my councilmates and friends reminded me how small actions go a long way – a smile, a wave across the hallway, a short exchange of good morning and see you soon, and I thought, aren’t we all just an accumulation of these small, little things? As such, it was what you think your insignificant moments were that pushed us to deliver you the best. It was the passing comment, the top-of-your-head tips, the interlude stories we hear during lunch breaks that allowed us to give you grand gestures and memories we hoped were worth keeping. And if we could start to use that perspective as well in our lives then maybe the uncertainties of a future wouldn’t be so heavy on us. We will face tomorrow with a lightness in being.

In behalf of the student council, thank you for allowing us to serve you.”

She bowed at a level where her torso was almost aligned at her hips, and she was confused with the lack of reaction. Sakura sighed, mulling over the deficiencies in her speech, but she straightened her back to a sight of a standing ovation and a thundering applause.

Then, she let her tears fall.

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

“Why would you let Kakashi-sensei take the pic?” Sakura hissed at them.

“Just this one time, Sakura!” Naruto grinned.

“Sakura, you’re out of the frame,” Kakashi remarked. “Okay good. Say cheese.”

In spite of her recent heartbreak with him, she permitted herself to bask in fleeting cordiality. “Cheese.”

“Grumpyyyyyy.”

“Idiot blondie.”

Kakashi took three more shots and handed the camera to the trio. He almost turned away when Sakura caught his sleeve.

“Just one more,” she said. “With you.”

Sakura shifted to the front, almost kneeling with the camera angled for a selfie, her two friends beside her looking equally annoyed as the other, and Kakashi behind them, his hands on either head, smiling with his deceptively charming beauty mark.

It was the last picture of their high school life.

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

The three were rushing through the airport crowd fifteen minutes before the immigration closes gates.

“Here!” Sakura slid a folder on the large pocket on Sasuke’s bag. “It includes your passport, your flight details, your valid IDs, your itinerary, and letters from us! Don’t forget our Friday video calls!”

“I can’t see. These tears are bullies,” Naruto said through tears. He was continuously wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“And If I don’t get on my flight because you made us eat ramen for one last time and the orders took too long, I’m gonna have you cursed by a witch and a shaman!” Sasuke growled. The guards were starting to close the gates when a sobbing Naruto sprinted and basically tackled the guards on the floor.

“Sasuke come on, hurry up!”

“Drink your vitamins! And if you miss cream puffs, I’ll teach you how to make them.” Sakura was trying hard to keep pace with Sasuke’s brisk walking, but she ended up breathless anyway.

The three of them finally reached the immigration entrance, and Naruto was profusely apologizing to the guards for the interruption. Sasuke showed his documents, wheezing as they looked at it. They gave him a thumbs up and opened the gates.

The two were already slumped at the floor, waving without words, and exhausted from the clock race. Sasuke was almost through when he remembered something he forgot. He muttered a quick sorry, ran through the opening, and hugged his two friends.

“I’ll miss you.”

#SCPS #student council president sakura #haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #team 7 #sasusaku #kakasaku #narusaku #fic!pseudolily #fic!pinkhairedlily

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian - ch. 3

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Chapters: 3/3

Read chapters one and two on Tumblr.

Chapter three summary: Sam and Bucky take a breather from Sharon’s party in High Town.

Sam walks back into the room from before. The one that could be a high-end boutique, or the lobby of a shady but untouchable law firm, or the backdrop for a photoshoot featuring an Avenger who wanted their surroundings to exude enviable elegance and expensiveness without at all detracting from their presence. Not to name names, or speak disdainfully of the dead.

Shrugging off the brown leather jacket Sharon leant him, Sam tosses it at the couch. Yeah, technically it’s on a collision course with the back of Bucky’s head, but since Bucky dodges without turning to look, he figures he can claim poor aim. Which Sam would normally never do, especially to Bucky, but he has downed a few drinks tonight. Sharon wanted them to blend in at the party; Sam couldn’t see an easier way to blend than by doing his bit to deplete the contents of the event’s bar. He sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there pumping his arm to the beat like that motherfucker Zemo. Sam doesn’t know exactly what to blame for the Baron’s excruciating dance moves, he’s just glad he got away. Being near enough to Zemo for people to assume they were acquainted? Come on. That’s just insult on top of injury.

Bucky’s head swivels to follow him once Sam tracks into his line of sight.

“Where’s Zemo?” is the first thing he says.

Sam avoids his gaze until he’s good and comfortable on the couch at his side. It’s closer than he meant to be, since the damn thing has a curve to it, but the chairs don’t look comfortable. Unless, he supposes, you’re a percher, like Sharon. Sam doesn’t perch.

To cover for the fact that he picked his seat without thorough reconnaissance and is, with his inhibitions a little lower than usual, both far too nervous and not nearly nervous enough, Sam spreads his knees to take up even more of the couch, draping his arms along the back. Finally, he glances at Bucky.

“Sharon’s doing her shift as babysitter,” Sam says.

“Hasn’t she done enough?”

“You wanna go back down there and spell her, be my guest.”

“Nah,” Bucky says, “I think I’m good.”

Bucky’s jacket is gone too, Sam notes, moving his own from where it landed to the chair opposite. Briefly, he lets himself be curious. Why does Sharon have a wardrobe of men’s clothes in enough sizes and styles to reasonably clad himself, Bucky, and Zemo for the evening? Are these things expensive? Are they valuable, like the Monet he saw on the way in? Maybe the clothes on his back belonged to some celebrity and are set to be sold off to the highest bidder. If that weren’t a selling point before, it could be now—everything itemized and tagged as having been worn by Sam Wilson, the Falcon, the Man Who Wouldn’t Be Captain America.

In the short silence, Sam feels himself beginning to frown, but he’s just the right side of buzzed to prevent those thoughts from dragging him down. He’s a cheerful drunk. Always has been. A hugger, a giggler, a piggyback ride-giver in his younger years.

“Do you think she’s doing alright?” Bucky asks, forever ready to be morose. “Sharon?” Sam wants to stick his finger in the indentation between Bucky’s eyebrows and wiggle it until the seriousness drops from his face. He wants to smooth his thumb over Bucky’s chin, wipe out the memory of Zemo’s touch when he offered Bucky to Selby like a thing instead of a human being. “I know she took your deal, a favour for a favour, but I’ve been trying to work out what my debt to her is. My notebook—”

“There’s no math for it, Buck,” Sam says. Though his tone is lazy, his words are certain. “Who owes what to who. We just have to make it right.” Mildly annoyed that he’s been drawn back into a heavy conversation, he sighs and slings his foot up to rest his ankle on his opposite knee. The movement bumps Bucky’s thigh momentarily. “Think I might owe Sharon a little less now that she made me wear a turtleneck to that party.”

Bucky snorts a laugh. Sam turns his head and gives him the finger, though he’s also smiling.

“I’m laughing at what you said,” Bucky claims, “not the shirt. You coulda picked something else.”

“It’s black and doesn’t have a pattern. After that Smiling Tiger getup, I felt like being inconspicuous, ok?”

“Ok. You don’t need my approval.”

“You’re damn right I don’t,” Sam agrees, still grinning.

“Suits you,” Bucky half-mumbles.

Sam huffs from his nose, all his laughter in that puff of air as he faces forward again, then tips his head back to check out Sharon’s high ceiling. With nothing but night through the tall windows and the room under-illuminated by the two lamps either left on by their host or switched on by Bucky, the ceiling’s dark grey instead of white. Shadowy. Unlike the menacing shadows that seemed to stretch after them on the streets of Low Town, sending an unpleasant tickle up the back of Sam’s neck, these are soft. It’s a surprisingly peaceful end to the day, considering what the past 24 hours have encompassed. Suddenly, Sam feels as though he’s been awake a long, long time. Doesn’t mean he’s ready to sleep yet.

“So,” he says, “downstairs. Why’d you leave? Most date-like thing we’ve done yet and I tear my eyes away from the trainwreck of Zemo’s dancing to find you gone.”

“The noise, the crowd, Zemo,” Bucky emphasizes, “like you said.”

“You brought him.”

“I know, I just…” Bucky slumps forward and hangs his head, hands clasped between his knees. He turns pained eyes on Sam and Sam moves his hand from the back of the couch to Bucky’s shoulder. From there to his upper back. From a grounding pressure to a gentle rub. Just a couple times, but he doesn’t pull away, perennially touchy when less than sober. “I don’t want him to control me.”

“He doesn’t,” Sam says firmly. “You were yourself at Selby’s.”

“His version of me. I don’t like the reminder. I don’t want to find out if I’d do it again, in that crowd of people, attack someone just because he told me to.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. I’m trusting you not to.”

“Is that smart?” Bucky asks, expression raw. Sam can feel the heat of his back through his shirt.

“It’s not totally smart. Can’t be, with you involved.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and smiles and Sam wants to cheer.

“I don’t know about that date,” Bucky says lightly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leans back into the couch once more. It was a t-shirt under that jacket of his and Sam’s gaze slides to his arms, trying to look without looking. Only because the Vibranium one isn’t on display a lot. That’s all.

“Oh, here we go.”

Sam’s amazed at how his complaint sounds in this room, in this light, on this couch. Like the ceiling, it’s soft.

“It was too loud.”

“The last thing you called a date was a fight on the top of a truck speeding down a highway. Wasn’t exactly quiet.”

“Well,” Bucky tries again, “there were too many people.”

“Again, extra people weren’t a problem last time. Half a dozen Flag-Smashers, as I recall.”

“That was fun and all—”

“Which part?” Sam asks, smiling. “The part where you got hurled into a windshield by the woman you’d assumed was a hostage? Yeah, that part was fun for me too.”

“Can it.”

Bucky accompanies the words with a look that Sam could pick out a mile away as fake-grumpy. It cracks him up and he lifts his hand from Bucky’s back to shove his arm as he laughs.

“You called tonight a date,” Bucky says suddenly.

“No, I said… I said…” Sam squints at nothing as he retrieves his words in his mind. “Date-like.”

“Zemo got in my head and I got in yours.”

Instead of saying this miserably, Bucky looks quietly smug at his joke. Sam needs to set him straight; of course he didn’t think tonight was a date. With a massive bounty on their heads at the other end of Madripoor? With Zemo the third wheel always only an arm’s length away? And the current circumstances are beside the point because, fundamentally, Sam doesn’t know whether or not Bucky’s been joking from the start. Intentionally wrong-footing him, messing with him, like they’ve been doing as long as they’ve known each other.

“You’ve definitely done something,” Sam volunteers.

It’s his fourth drink talking, or maybe the fucking pickled snake organ he forced himself to swallow earlier. His jaw clenches fleetingly at the memory. Sarah’s gonna laugh her ass off when he tells her. Should be enough to balance out whatever ire she’ll be sending his way for that dumb shit he said about laundering money. Although she’ll get that he only said it to avoid getting shot (he won’t tell her how narrow that success was), she still won’t be thrilled that he made himself out to be a criminal. It’s the furthest thing from the kind of people the Wilsons are. He could always point a finger at how Bucky behaved—dropping everyone who ran at him with icily efficient twists and kicks—but he knows how Sarah would look at him, what she’d be thinking. That he and Bucky aren’t held to the same standard, externally or internally. That he talks about Bucky too often, so often that if he let his sister in on this stupid running joke they have about their ops being dates, she’d take it all wrong, think this was something serious and inevitable.

Sam swallows and laces his fingers together in his lap so he won’t reach out for Bucky again.

“I know I should’ve let you in on the plan to spring Zemo from prison,” Bucky says. Oh, he thinks Sam’s words were a subtle criticism, not an admission. That’s… good.

“But?”

“No excuses,” Bucky promises, stretching his neck from side to side. “I shoulda told you. Once I explained it, you would’ve seen that I was right and agreed with me.”

Sam gives the side of Bucky’s head a hard stare until he catches the smirk hiking his lips up on one side.

“Wow,” Sam says dryly, “that was almost you taking responsibility.”

“I take responsibility all the time.”

“The notebook, right?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe Zemo put his fuckin’ hands on something so private, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I get that it’s private,” Sam assures him, “but you can tell me shit. If you want.”

Bucky’s folded arms loosen and he shoots Sam a sideways glance that scans all over his face, measuring, cataloguing, computing with that cyborg brain Sam teases him about. Sam blinks back. He means it, and he meant it before when he said he’s trusting Bucky.

“Feels a little one-sided,” Bucky says.

“That’s because you won’t come home with me to meet Sarah and the boys. You already got your invitation into my personal life, you just haven’t used it.”

“We’ve been a little busy, Sam.”

Sam sighs loudly and pushes his sleeves up his arms against the warmth of the room.

“You can make time. Once we’re not on Zemo’s schedule.”

“He was supposed to be on ours,” Bucky mutters. “I don’t know how that happened.”

“It happened because you’re an idiot who didn’t tell me the plan.”

“It’s my fault we keep getting shot at.”

Sam ignores that, the happy looseness surging up inside him battling the gravity of Bucky’s self-pity.

“It’s your fault if you didn’t like the date,” he counters. “You got Zemo out of Germany, Zemo brought us to Madripoor. Low Town, Selby, Sharon—all that happened as a consequence. You didn’t like tonight’s date? That’s on you.”

“Date-like,” Bucky corrects with a sly smile. “The noise and the fighting last time were fine—”

“Were they?!”

“—I just thought the next date should be different.”

Sam laughs softly because this isn’t the first time Bucky’s made this sound like more than a joke, but it is the first time he’s done this at night. And without Sam’s sister and nephews in the next room, or the potential for anybody to drive past them on a country road that runs alongside untidy fields, but when they’re truly alone.

“How so?” Sam asks, heart pumping like the bass in the basement, where the party’s carrying on without the two of them.

Bucky loosens his arms even more, until his forearms rest on his thighs, until—when he rocks to the side, repositioning to face Sam—he can rest one on the back of the couch where Sam’s used to be. His hand hangs down and his fingers skim Sam’s shoulder.

“More private,” Bucky confesses.

“I didn’t know that’s what you wanted,” Sam says with an easy laugh because Bucky’s face is still a little too stern, but that could be self-consciousness. “Tell me how to get more than four stars, man.”

“And you’ll do it?”

“Depends. Try me,” he blurts.

He watches Bucky’s face pinch in then relax, going especially slack at the mouth, which gets closer when Bucky angles into his space. Sam’s fingers release and his back straightens as he shifts to square his body to Bucky’s. They’ve done something like this before, locked into stubborn, confrontational posture when Bucky makes Sam’s life difficult by refusing to go along with what he says, but not this. Not this exactly.

Sam doesn’t stiffen or jerk away, so Bucky keeps coming.

“Are you…?” Bucky asks, eyelashes fluttering as his lids raise and lower, looking from Sam’s eyes to his lips. “Is this…?”

Always talking.

Tilting his head and closing his eyes, Sam stamps his mouth to Bucky’s. He goes to break away after a few stunned seconds, but then Bucky’s hand lands on the back of his neck—warm; not the metal one—to hold them together. Sam meets Bucky’s seeking tongue with his own and feels scruff against his face as their mouths test and react to each other. Reflexively, Sam grips the front of Bucky’s tight, black t-shirt. The kiss is quick and feverish and, when Bucky’s fingers untense on his neck, Sam rests his face against Bucky’s.

He wouldn’t say he’s scared to move, but he’s wary. He can’t tell if they’ve fucked up their whole dynamic or taken it, at last, to a level it was always going to reach. Raising a hand to pat the side of his head and check that his goggles are in place, Sam stops, remembering he won’t feel the strap because he’s not in the air. It’s been a while since he felt lightheaded on the ground.

He clears his throat and draws back. Bucky starts to remove his hand from Sam’s neck, but Sam reaches up to keep it there. He juts his chin out challengingly as he holds Bucky’s eyes, thinking, for a second, of their joint session with Dr. Raynor.

“What’s the verdict?” Sam demands.

Bucky stares back solemnly.

“Four and a half.”

“I’m leaving you here in Madripoor,” Sam declares, pointing a finger down at Bucky’s abruptly and broadly grinning face as he pushes up from the couch.

He strides over to Sharon’s crystal decanters, laughing to himself and looking for water. There isn’t any, but she does have an insulated canister of dissolving ice cubes. Sam scoops a few into a tumbler and turns back to look silently at Bucky. He cups the base of the glass in his hot palm. Slowly, the ice starts to melt.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes #sambucky

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bee-kathony · 4 years ago

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I’ll Be Seeing You | Phillip & Eloise 1950′s AU

Phillip Crane places an advertisement in the newspaper seeking a tutor for his young children. He did not expect the beautiful Eloise Bridgerton to respond, nor did he expect to fall madly in love with her.

Ch. 1 “A Letter”

Cambridge, England | 1952

It was another dreary day.

The pitter patter of raindrops on the window pane was giving Phillip a headache. At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself. Truthfully, it was the pitter patter of small children’s feet running up and down the hall just outside of his office.

Phillip Crane was a terrible father.

He knew it, and so did his children, Oliver and Amanda. They were twins, aged nine, and lived to make sure Phillip’s heart rate was never at a normal speed. Of course, he couldn’t have been blessed with perfect children that behaved themselves, and sat quietly doing their schoolwork. No child was perfect — no adult was perfect for that matter. But, his children… they wreaked havoc on 113 Grantchester Meadows.

Marina Crane, Phillip’s wife had passed away several years ago when the children were young. Ever since then, it had just been the three of them. He hadn’t been very present in their lives, as he was a Professor of Botany at Cambridge University. Most of his time was spent in his offices at the school or in his greenhouse in the back garden.

His marriage to Marina had not been a happy one. Although, it had started out blissfully happy. Phillip had just graduated from university, and Marina was head over heels in love with him. He hated to admit it to himself, especially now, but Phillip had not been in love with Marina — not in the way it mattered.

Marrying her was the right thing to do, and he was looking forward to becoming a father. Of course, they were both young, but they were in it together. Phillip could only blame himself for not using protection that one night nearly ten years ago. He had been seeing Marina for three months before they first slept together.

Phillip thought he might be a better father, if he himself had had a better example. Growing up, Phillip’s father had been anything but present. And when he was around, his father beat him with his belt, yelling at him to be a better lad like his brother. So Phillip blamed his father for the way he was. Uncaring and selfish.

He wanted to be better for Oliver and Amanda, but he simply didn’t know how.

In the years following Marina’s death, Phillip had spent many restless nights blaming himself. She had been so unhappy after the children were born. Marina became quiet and withdrawn, helping with the children only when Phillip begged her to. When he thought of the three years following the twins birth, he should’ve known that something was wrong.

But it was also in those first several years that Phillip became a teaching assistant at the university. His days and nights were given to his career, and he just wanted to provide for his young family.

Phillip should’ve seen the small bottle in their bathroom and questioned it. He should’ve seen that Marina was growing more and more unhappy as the days passed. He should’ve been there when she took too many pills. And he should’ve been there for his children when they cried out for him in the night, screaming for their mother.

Shaking his head, Phillip sighed and leaned back in his chair. He would never be able to erase the guilt he felt about Marina’s death. Nor would he be the father his children needed him to be.

Which is why he tried to hire the best nannies for them, but his children terrorized each and every poor young woman. Whether it was frogs in their beds, or salt in their tea, each nanny practically ran screaming from the house.

No one wanted to take care of his children, he knew this. But what they did need was someone to help them with their studies. Being a professor, Phillip knew that he should be the one to sit beside them as they did maths, history and science, but he barely had the time.

Phillip opened the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a clean sheet of paper with his letterhead. What his children needed right now was a tutor.

Tutor needed for two children, aged nine. £1 a week. Contact Phillip Crane, 113 Grantchester Meadows, Cambridge CB3 9JN UK

It was a simple and straightforward advertisement, and Phillip prayed that it worked. He needed someone desperately to come and help his children. More than anything, he needed someone to help him.

He folded the letter and sealed it into an envelope, addressing it to the local paper enclosed with the funds to get it into print in the next edition.

Phillip rose from his chair, and ventured out into the hall. With the letter in hand, he intended to walk down the street to the post box, but his children had other plans.

*squish*

“What in God’s name?” Phillip looked down at his left shoe that had just stepped in something unidentifiable. Two small giggles could be heard from down the hall. “I guess nobody wants dessert tonight.”

“Wait!” Amanda shouted, and came running out of the hall toilet.

Oliver begrudgingly followed behind his sister, arms crossed over his small chest.

“I would ask what this is,” Phillip shook his foot, grimacing. “But I’m afraid I don’t want to know.”

“No, you don’t, father,” Amanda tried to cover up her laugh to no avail.

“If you want dessert tonight, then you both will clean this up by the time I return from the post box,” Phillip tried to be stern, but he just didn’t have the heart.

A better father would not bribe his children to clean with dessert, but it was the best he could do. Nothing else seemed to work with the twins other than incentives with sweets.

Phillip hopped his way down to the toilet and cleaned off his shoe, trying not to look too hard at what he had just stepped in. Thankfully, nothing had happened to his letter, and he left the house to post it.

When he returned minutes later, the mess was cleaned, and the twins were nowhere to be seen. Apparently, they really wanted dessert tonight.

Phillip couldn’t blame them for acting out. They barely had any guidance from an authority figure, and for the most part were allowed to run amuck. He had unknowingly created his own chaos.

Dinner would not be ready for another several hours, so Phillip elected to spend that time in his greenhouse. His own slice of heaven on earth. Well, his true slice of heaven belonged to his family’s country home several hours outside of London, but his backyard was a close second.

His one true passion was botany, and all things green. Currently, he was attempting to fatten up a strain of peas. Phillip skimmed the contents of his last journal entry before checking on the latest pods.

Not much change since the last entry, but he noted the height and circumference anyways.

Peace filled Phillip as he piddled around in his greenhouse, and as the plants embraced him, he was able to push away that voice of guilt and forget. In his greenhouse, he was not a widow, or a father. He was just a man. A man who was trying his best.

++++++

Two weeks later, Phillip arrived home to find his post sitting on the front table. Three times a week, a housekeeper came to clean and collect any mail. As he made his way to his office, Phillip grabbed the letters addressed to him. Bills, more bills and then a letter from an E. Bridgerton. Perhaps this was in answer to his newspaper advertisement. It had been a couple weeks, and Phillip had nearly forgotten about it.

Laying his leather briefcase on top of his desk, Phillip opened the envelope and pulled it out, skimming its contents.

I write to express interest in tutoring your children, aged nine. I have experience with young children, as I am the fifth child in a large family of eight. My education is mostly self taught, but I have recently begun attending university. I am available to begin work immediately.

E. Bridgerton

Phillip thought it odd that the writer did not sign their first name, instead opting for only an initial, but brushed it off. The writer came from a large family and had experience with young children. Surely this would be the most important part. He knew that anyone with a basic education could teach them, but it was how they could handle his children that mattered.

Pulling out another clean sheet of paper, Phillip wrote his response.

I would be glad to offer you the position of tutor for my children. They are difficult spirited, and eager to learn. Please come to the address enclosed next Monday at 9am.

Finally, he could breath a sigh of relief. His children would have a tutor, and Phillip could rest easy knowing that they would be shaped and molded while he molded the minds of university students.

++++++

As Monday arrived, Phillip watched the clock all morning. He was anxious to meet the man that would be the twins tutors. If he had just started university, then he would be young, most likely.

“What is the man’s name?” Oliver asked over breakfast.

“I don’t know,” Phillip shrugged. “He only signed the letter with his first initial.”

“That’s odd,” Amanda remarked, slurping her milk.

“Very,” Phillip agreed.

Just as Phillip took a large bite of his toast, a knock came from the front door.

“He’s here!” The twins shouted and jumped up from the table, running ahead of Phillip.

“Please don’t run,” Phillip tried to grab them, but they were too quick. He wondered how long the tutor would last. He gave him until the next day before he gave up, telling Phillip to send the twins off to boarding school.

“Can I open the door, father?” Amanda asked and he nodded.

Phillip was expecting a young man, perhaps he had even expected a man near his own age. What he saw in front of him now was most certainly not a young man, but a woman. A very beautiful woman with wavy brown hair and captivating eyes.

“Hello,” she smiled warmly. The woman offered her hand to Amanda who shook it excitedly.

“Can I help you, miss?” Phillip asked, looking behind her to see if the tutor was arriving.

“You are Phillip Crane?” The woman asked, holding a letter in her hand and a satchel in the other.

“Yes,” Phillip nodded, brows scrunched together.

“Well then,” the woman smiled again, nearly knocking him off his feet. “I am your new tutor. Well, not your tutor,” she laughed, a sound that filled him with warmth right to his toes. “Your children’s tutor.”

Phillip didn’t know what to say. The last thing he had been expecting was for a woman to be his children’s tutor. Not that women weren’t qualified… but he had just assumed the author of the letter was a man.

The woman bent down on her knees before his children, taking their small hands. Phillip wanted to weep at the gesture.

“You must be Amanda, and Oliver,” she smiled, squeezing their hands.

His children looked over their shoulders at him, waiting for him to speak.

Blinking, Phillip cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Miss Bridgerton. I assumed that you were a man. But you’re a woman.”

“Yes,” Miss Bridgerton rose, offering her hand to him next. “Thank you for noticing. I’m Eloise Bridgerton.”

Phillip slid his hand into hers, nearly biting his tongue as a wave of electricity shocked his palm at her touch. Eloise. Eloise Bridgerton. Miss Eloise Bridgerton. This beautiful and lively woman had come to teach his children. Phillip didn’t know it yet, but Eloise Bridgerton would be doing much more than tutoring his twins. She would be the balm to his broken and fragile heart.

“Shall I come inside?” She dropped her hand from his, picking up her satchel.

“Of course,” Phillip flexed his hand beside his thigh. “Please, do come in. I’ll show you to the children’s nursery.”

Amanda and Oliver ran up the stairs, leading the way and Phillip escorted Eloise to the nursery where the children did their studies.

“This will do nicely,” Eloise grinned. “I assume that you would like me to begin this morning?”

Phillip nodded, captivated by the vibrant energy she radiated. He tried not to compare Eloise to Marina, but it had been so long since he had seen such life in a woman. Such joy and a thrill for living.

“I am running late for my class,” Phillip glanced at his watch. “If you need to reach me, I have left my office number on the table by the front door. I’m sorry we did not get a chance to properly introduce ourselves.”

“That’s alright,” Eloise smiled and pulled out a stack of papers from her satchel. “I expect we will get to know one another in the coming days.”

“Certainly,” Phillip nodded and then looked at his children, worry crossing his face. “Please do not burn the house down for Miss Bridgerton. Wait until I come back.”

The twins laughed, and Phillip sent up a prayer hoping that the house would still be in one shape when he returned.

As Phillip drove to the university, all his thoughts focused on Eloise. He wondered if she had only signed her first initial in the letter because she thought he would not hire a woman. Hoping he would not have allowed gender to come between his decision, Phillip thought he would have still hired her had he known. After all, it was her experience with young children that impressed him the most.

During his class on the anatomy of an orchid, Phillip’s thoughts continually drifted towards Eloise. Her bright smile has he answer the door. The glasses perched on her nose. The fitted sweater that hugged her curves. It had been a very long time since Phillip had felt any sort of emotion towards the opposite sex.

It was the more intimate thoughts of Eloise that Phillip was thinking about when he arrived home later that afternoon. For the first time in a long while, he was happy to be home, a smile crossing his face.

“Hello?” He called out, dropping his keys in a small dish near the door.

A loud thud could be heard from upstairs and he climbed the steps three at a time.

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Eloise shouted, standing outside of the children’s nursery.

Phillip had expected the house to be in shambles, but he had never expected the sight before him. Eloise Bridgerton covered in flour — what he hoped was only flour.

“Miss Bridgerton,” Phillip gasped, walking towards her. “I am so sorry. You must please excuse my children’s awful behavior.”

He knew she wouldn’t last. His children were a menace to society. How could anyone, especially the bright Eloise Bridgerton put up with them?

Instead of stomping down the stairs and out the door in a rage, Eloise began to laugh.

“Are you alright?” Phillip reached out to her, his hand brushing against her flour covered arm.

Eloise only laughed more, and then the nursery door opened slightly. Two small heads poked out, looking entirely mischievous.

“It wasn’t our idea, father,” Oliver crossed his heart.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Phillip ran his hand over his face. “You’ll apologize to Miss Bridgerton this instant!”

“No, no,” Eloise stopped laughing, her hand reaching out to clutch his arm. “They are telling the truth! It was my idea.”

“It was your idea to cover yourself in a bucket of flour?” He asked, confused.

“Well,” Amanda snickered. “It was our idea to cover her in flour, but then Miss Eloise suggested that we set the trap for you.”

“For me?” Phillip cocked a brow at Eloise, who’s cheeks blushed.

“Just a spot of fun,” Eloise chuckled, then had the decency to look embarrassed.

Phillip truly didn’t know what to say. Disciplining his own children was one thing for their mischief, but he couldn’t very well punish Eloise. If he wasn’t so shocked, he might have just laughed.

“Children,” Phillip said. “Please clean up this mess. I need to have a word with Miss Eloise.”

Surprisingly, the children bent down to scoop up the flour into the bucket that had been perched on top of the nursery door. They probably didn’t want to miss out on what Phillip was going to say to Eloise.

He pulled her aside, his hand on the small of her back.

“I must apologize for my children,” Phillip smiled briefly. “I would say they know better, but it’s just their nature to cause chaos.”

“As it is mine,” Eloise smiled, wiping the flour from her eyes. “I assure you, it was all my idea. But as I was setting the bucket on top of the door, I sneezed and it came tumbling down.”

Phillip looked at her curiously.

“I thank you for hiring me,” Eloise took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for the mess I caused, and I do not expect you to give me a reference since I have worked not even a day!”

“A reference?” He asked. “Do you think I’m firing you, Eloise?”

“Well, yes,” she shrugged. “I’m covered in flour, and I plotted with your mischievous children.”

“Did they do any learning today?”

Eloise nodded. “We covered geography and maths today.”

“Then you have done what I hired you to do,” Phillip smiled. Without thinking, his hand reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip, caked white.

“You will allow me stay then?”

“I would be a fool to let someone like you go,” Phillip smirked. “I know my children are difficult to handle. If they let you in on one of their pranks then that means they like you.”

“Very well,” Eloise smiled widely. “I will return at the same time tomorrow!”

She turned then, a cloud of flour following her. Phillip saw her to the door, and once she was gone, he let his head fall on the solid wood. What had he just gotten himself into?

#philoise #phillip crane #eloise bridgerton #phillip x eloise #bridgerton #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfic #i'll be seeing you #1950's au #my fic

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petersasteria · 4 years ago

Text

Homework Help - Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter x Single mom!Reader

Both are aged up and I thought that y’all might want to read a regular one shot for now to take a break from the Disney theme.

PP Masterlist

1.8k words

* * * *

Your 5 year old son, Aidan, was having trouble with his homework. You couldn't help him because you were currently in a Zoom meeting in the living room. Aidan was having trouble figuring out what 8+9 was. He looked out the window and saw something red and blue.

As a curious 5 year old boy, that was enough for him to abandon his homework. He got out of his seat and walked towards the window. He looked out the opened window and saw Spider-Man sitting on the fire escape. Aidan grinned and slowly and carefully got out of the window. Successfully getting out, Aidan stood behind Spider-Man.

Peter felt a presence behind him and he turned around and saw a cute little boy standing behind him. They just stared at each other and Aidan giggled after a second, "Hi 'pide-man!"

Peter smiled under his mask and fully turned to the kid, "Hi there, lil' fella!"

"I need help." Aidan frowned and pointed at his desk. Peter glanced at his desk and saw an activity book that pre-school gave to kids to take home. He turned to the kid and asked, "Homework?"

Aidan could only nod.

"Ahh, what do you need help with?" Peter asked nicely.

"I 'on know 8+9." Aidan pouted. "Can you come and help me? You can come in! Mommy won't mind because she said I can ask for help."

"Oh, um, okay." Peter said. Even though he knew that the kid's mommy most likely meant a different kind of help. He watched as the kid carefully got back inside and motioned for him to come in too. Not wanting to disappoint, Peter climbed in through the window as Aidan giggled and clapped his hands.

"'Pide-man's in my room!" Aidan giggled and walked to his tiny desk. Peter knelt down next to him and saw the activity where Aidan was stuck on. Aidan pointed at the top left corner and said, "Aidan is m' name. See? It's right there!"

Peter nodded, "Yes, I can see that." Peter was sort of distracted with Aidan's answers, though. The kid wasn't dumb. He was just sort of slow on numbers. He got some of the answers wrong. Like, 5+5. Peter hummed to himself and immediately thought that he should correct everything. There's no way he would let Aidan go to school the next day with wrong answers.

"Aidan, buddy, what's 5+5?" Peter asked and pointed on the first problem. Aidan gave him a cute smile.

"That's easy! It's 2!" Aidan clapped. Peter shook his head, "Nope. Think again, pal."

Aidan pouted, "But it's 2."

"Why?" Peter asked. He was curious as to how Aidan got that answer.

Aidan held up one hand and said, "See? 'Tis 5."

"Okay, and then?"

Aidan held up his other hand and said, "It's another 5! I have two 5's now. 5+5 is 2!"

'Technically, he's not wrong.' Peter thought. 'In a scientific context, that's correct. He has two hands. But this is math.'

"How many fingers do you have?" Peter asked.

"I 'on know." Aidan shrugged and rested his head on the desk, clearly getting bored now. "I'm only 5." Aidan looked at the colored markers on his desk and decided in his mind that he'll draw a picture for his mommy later when Spider-Man leaves.

Peter thought of a strategy. He looked at the colored markers Aidan was looking at. There was about a hundred of them. "Is it alright if I borrow these?" Peter asked nicely. Aidan nodded, not having the energy to say proper response.

Peter randomly took 10 colored markers and laid 5 of them neatly on the desk. Aidan sat up properly once he saw his favorite color. In a way, it gave him motivation.

"How many colored markers do you see on the table?" Peter asked sweetly as he watched Aidan counted them one by one.

"1...2...3...4...5! I see 5!" Aidan grinned. Peter nodded, "That's right! I'll add 5 more."

Peter laid down 5 more markers and asked, "Now, how many markers are there?"

"1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10! I see 10!" Aidan smiled sweetly.

"Yeah! So, what's 5+5?" Peter asked again.

"Hm... 'm not sure." Aidan frowned. "Can I try?"

"Yes, you can."

"Is it 10?"

"Very good!" Peter clapped and Aidan laughed. Peter erased Aidan's wrong answer and Aidan took his pencil and wrote '10' as the correct answer.

The next few minutes were consisted of counting and colored markers. But the homework also had a 5-item question on subtractions. Of course, Aidan just kept answering because he thought it was still addition.

"Hold up, Aidan." Peter chuckled and erased Aidan's answer on the first question to subtraction.

"Why erase it?" Aidan whined. "5-2 is 7!"

Peter shook his head, "Nope. We're on subtractions now, buddy. The sign is already different. In addition, we use a cross; a small letter 't'. In subtraction, we use a little line."

"What?" Aidan blinked. "I 'on get it."

"Well," Peter started and laid down 5 colored markers. "Instead of adding 2 colored markers like in addition, we remove it."

Aidan watched carefully as Peter removed 2 colored markers. "I took 2 colored markers away, right? How many markers are left?" Peter asked.

"2!" Aidan said proudly.

"Why is it 2?" Peter asked.

"Because you said you took 2 markers." Aidan shrugged casually.

'Huh, smart-ass.' Peter thought.

"Okay, let me rephrase that." Peter said as he put back the two markers he took. "There are 5 markers, right?"

"Right!"

"How many markers are left when 2 markers are gone?" Peter asked and swiftly took 2 markers away. Aidan held his head on one hand while his other hand counted the remaining markers.

"1...2...3!"

"Okay, so what's 5-2?"

"3!" Aidan cheered and wrote down the correct answer.

"That's right!" Peter grinned and continued on teaching him.

Meanwhile, your Zoom meeting ended and heard two voices coming from your son's room and immediately panicked. You grabbed the nearest 'weapon' near you, which was a flower vase, and tiptoed to your son's room.

You pressed your ear against the door and furrowed your eyebrows when you heard giggling. You opened the door with confusion written all over your face and your eyes widened at the sight of Peter helping your son with his homework.

"I asked help from 'pide-man." Aidan said coolly. "He's teaching me math."

You and Peter stared at each other. It's been a while since you saw him. Aidan was busy writing the answer to the last question to even pay attention to the both of you.

"Aidan, is it okay if I talk to Pe- I mean, Spider-Man for a bit?" You asked sweetly. "I'll check your homework later."

"Okay mommy!" Aidan smiled and grabbed a piece of paper and began drawing something for Spider-Man as a 'thank you' present.

You and Peter walked out of Aidan's room and went to the living room. Peter took off his mask and said, "I didn't know you were his mom."

"Yeah, that's fine." You said.

You dated Peter back in high school, but he broke up with you in college because he claimed that he was in love with someone else. That 'someone else' was Gwen Stacy aka the girl who has been flirting with Peter all year long.

"So... Aidan, huh?" Peter said after an awkward silence. "I assume you had him when you were 20?"

"You assume correctly." You said and placed the flower vase back on the coffee table.

"I-Is he mine?" Peter asked. "It all lines up and-"

"No."

"What?"

"You're not his dad." You said.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. He was... well, he didn't know what to feel. At first, Aidan was just another kid but for some reason he's grown to be fond of him. Then, he saw you and then he felt as if he was connected to you and Aidan. Now, you told him that Aidan wasn't his and he felt sad? Disappointed? Relieved? He wasn't sure.

"You know what I mean. Aidan isn't yours and I know that because I made a drunk decision a week after our break up and then 9 months later, Aidan was born. That's why I 'dropped out'. I took online classes instead and after a year and a half of taking online classes, I switched to a different university and physically attended online classes there. Of course, my parents disowned me and I had to do everything by myself. It was hard, but I pushed through." You explained.

"Oh." Peter said as he sat down on the couch. You sat next to him and asked, "How's Gwen?"

"We broke up after a year of dating." Peter said. "She wasn't who I thought she was. She used to be this really nice girl and then somewhere along the way, she changed. Hung out with the wrong crowd and then she cheated."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." You frowned.

"That's alright. I moved on." Peter shrugged.

"Good for you." You smiled at him softly which he returned. "I, uh, I have to start making snacks for Aidan now. You're welcome to stay if you want."

"Oh, no thanks. I have to get going." Peter said and both of you stood up from the couch. "It was nice seeing you, Y/N."

"It was nice seeing you too, Peter. Thanks for helping Aidan with his homework. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. I'm glad that I helped." Peter smiled. "Is it okay if I get your number? I'd really like to get in touch again."

You looked at him and nodded, "Sure."

He happily handed you his phone and watched you type in your number. You gave it back to him and he thanked you. He walked back to Aidan's room with his hand on the door knob before turning to you, "Hey Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You looked at him.

"I'm sorry for breaking up with you and I'm sorry that no one was there for you when you had Aidan."

"It's not your fault, Peter." You gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, but I could've checked up on you the moment you fell off the grid. It was the least I could do. After all, we were once friends and a decent friend would do that." Peter said guiltily.

"It's all in the past now." You assured.

"I'd like to make it up to you." Peter said and just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, Aidan's door opened and a smiling Aidan appeared. He looked at Peter and smiled, "Wow, you look handsome, 'pide-man!"

"Thank you." Peter chuckled. Aidan handed him a drawing and said it was a 'thank you' gift. It was a drawing of him and Peter with numbers surrounding them. "I have to get going." Peter said.

"Say goodbye to Spider-Man, Aidan." You said.

"Bye!" Aidan said and went straight to the living room to watch cartoons.

Peter looked at you once more and said, "I mean it. I want to make it up to you."

"Well, you have my number. Text me." You smiled politely. "Have a safe swing, Peter."

He only smiled and put on his mask before going in Aidan's room and leaving through the window. You followed after him and looked out the window to watch him swing around.

Peter was your first love and both of you drifted away only to see each other again years later. Perhaps it was fate. Maybe both of you were meant to be. After all, sometimes, first loves are last loves.

* * * *

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @justanothermarvelmaniac @itstaskeen @heeeyitskay @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @yaya4302 @lil-mellow-bunbun @starlight-starks @swiftmind @alexx-stancati @sovereignparker @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pearce14 @xfirstfemale-marauderx @cherthegoddess @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24

#peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker one shots #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years ago

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dirtbags // 3: Charlotte

Summary: High school AU, 1985, Winter. The year’s off to a strange start as Charlotte and her friends find out that not only does Lola work at the new diner that opened up in town, but her dad owns it! Charlotte humbles Nikki in a very un-Charlotte manor, and Vince’s parents decide to host an English exchange student in an attempt to give him a good role model; instead, they get Razzle.

A/N: 8466 words. Do I care too much about this AU? Yes. as always, for my dears @misscharlottelee and @newyeareva ft. a softer world quotes

the city sometimes feels like a movie set. maybe this is the big scene. maybe i can be an extra at least.

Charlotte’s only a few practice hours away from being able to get her provisional license, and she berates her past self for not getting it sooner, especially not when her Winter Break has been kind of a shit-show and she’d rather tear off her own arms than ride in Tommy’s shitbox of a car with Vince Neil.

Since his blowout house party, Vince had essentially been grounded for the rest of the school year, had his car privileges revoked, and the only people his parents apparently trusted him to hang around with outside of school, were Tommy, Charlotte, Eileen, and Peach. Tommy was delighted. The girls, unsurprisingly, were not. Vince himself was downright somber, and had sulked for the remainder of the semester, and well into the break.

He had been in a particularly sour mood since last night, New Year’s Eve, when his parents had announced they were going to be hosting an exchange student from England for six months. Vince is convinced it’s an attempt to give him some sort of role model his own age, and spent most of his parents’ New Year’s Eve party ranting to Tommy and the girls while they played cards in his basement.

Her saving grace is Eileen, of course, who’s father had bought her mother a shiny, new car for Christmas, and had given Eileen the keys to her mother’s old station wagon.

“It’s kinda dumb that we’re taking two cars,” Peach, Eileen’s little sister, pipes up from the back seat, hands fiddling in her lap. It’s New Year’s Day, and while their various parents were sleeping off their hangovers, they’d suggested the kids check out the new diner that was opening today. Vince jumped at the suggestion of freedom, and everyone was in agreement, but Eileen and Charlotte took Peach in Eileen’s car the moment Vince slid into Tommy’s front seat, holding the flyer he’d gotten at the mall that told them all about the diner’s opening day, “just saying, we could all fit in one.” But she’s met with silence, “are you going to be mad at him forever?” She finally sighs.

“Yes.” Both Charlotte and Eileen answer automatically. Peach sighs as dramatically as she’s able, and sinks as low into the seat as she can. Charlotte turns on the radio, and hums along to something familiar, but that she doesn’t quite recognize, staring out the front window at the back of Tommy’s car. Vince turns around in the front seat and flips them off.

“I’m gonna ram them,” Eileen says, with absolute sincerity and serenity, leveling an intense glare at where Vince was now waving.

“Don’t,” Charlotte advises, equally level.

“I don’t get why you’re still mad, I’m not even mad,” Peach huffed, pouting. Charlotte and Eileen share a look; at sixteen years old, Peach was top of almost all of her math and science classes, but she was still a teenage girl, and an absolute fool for a blonde boy who made her cry. Charlotte knew that feeling all too well, but thankfully she’d moved on from the ‘wondering why she wasn’t enough’ stage to the ‘realizing her ex is a cheating douchebag and it was never her fault’ stage. She really hopes Peach can move on to ‘realizing Vince made her cry and hasn’t even tried to change since then and deserved to get his car keyed’ stage quickly.

The diner was bustling when they arrived, a large decal on the inside of window, black, thick and flowing lettering, outlined in gold, reading Leo’s. Through the window, several booths were already filled, as were a host of the stools along the counter. It looked warm inside, inviting in golds, yellows, peaches and oranges, neon signs and rusted street signs, band and comic book memorabilia, and photos. Behind the counter -

Lola. Smiling.

“I’m freezing my butt off, can we go in?” Peach asks, hands shoved deep in the pockets of her parker, the only person who did not recognize the girl currently pouring coffee for an elderly gentleman at the counter.

Inside, the diner is warm, filled with the sounds pleasant chatter, and of the Beatles coming from a cherry wood jukebox in the corner.

“Lola!” Tommy can’t help himself, lighting up at the sight of her, and once Lola finishes pouring her customer coffee, she looks to their confused little group, and waves.

“Find yourselves a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment,” she calls back, smiling bright and wide, hair tied back with a bright, red bandana.

The teens do as they’re told, pulling off jackets and gloves and scarves, sliding into a booth by the window, looking around, wrapped up in the smell of warm food, and the confusion of Lola’s presence, and completely unfamiliar demeanor. There’s an uncertain kind of quiet among them, having just expected to spend lunch at a cool new diner, but this has shift everything, only Peach, blissfully unaware of who Lola even was, seemed at ease, rearranging the sugar packets in their little holder.

Lola comes by with menus, and cups, and a pitcher of water for the table, looking pristine and put together in a tight, black blouse, skirt, and scuffed black combat boots, little peach-coloured apron tied around her waist. She pulls a notebook and pen from the pocket of the apron, looking around at them all, as if finally taking a moment to assess the situation.

Charlotte picked up a menu.

“You work here?” Tommy asked, and Lola confirms brightly, but doesn’t give any further details. She does, however, thank them all for coming, and recommend a few of her favourites.

“I’m also partial to The Lola, for obvious reasons,” she gives an actual laugh at that, as if implying one of the burgers was named after her was giving away too much information, and Charlotte was quickly scouring the menu.

Beef patty, double bacon, American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and a home-made smokey maple-barbeque sauce, on a toasted bun.

“The menu’s kind of misleading,” Lola admits, moving to look down over Charlotte’s shoulder as she was reading, “all the patties are home made too, with Leo’s signature blend of herbs and spices.” That asked more questions than it answered. No-one’s quite sure what to say.

“Can I get a milkshake?” Peach pipes up, and Lola’s smile grew wide as she asked what flavour, “chocolate, please, and do you have curly fries or regular?”

“Hand cut,” Lola tells her proudly, but that means very little to Peach, who’s just glad to be having food, “still need time to think?” Lola asks the rest, and they all give her awkward, quiet smiles and nods.

Lola leaves, heading back to the counter, and the moment she’s gone, the whole table explodes with whispered confusion, leaning in, asking questions and not getting any answers.

“You guys are being super fucking weird,” Peach hisses loudly at them all, while Charlotte and Tommy argue about how the other should have known. Eileen, quietly delighted by the chaos, demands to know if anyone else thinks Lola might secretly have a twin, and Vince, who’s had the least contact with her aside from Peach, is babbling about how it’s weird to see Lola so chipper; their mutual confusion is enough to set aside Eileen and Charlotte’s hatred of him, at least for the moment.

When Peach demands they explain what they’re all whisper-shouting about, disturbing the booth behind her, they all quiet down, and Tommy and Eileen take it in turns explaining their full understanding of Lola. Charlotte takes the time to actually look around the diner now that she was inside.

There’s two other waitress, one behind the counter, the other always moving on about the various tables and booths on one side, making sure the customers are happy and food and drinks are delivered, both in the same outfit as Lola, though with varying footwear.

The view to the kitchen is unobstructed behind the counter, a half wall where meals ready to be delivered were sat, but a clear view to where three people in the kitchen, two by the grills and fryers, turned away; a broad-shouldered man towering over the grill with the longest hair Charlotte’s ever seen braided neatly down his back, and a comparatively shorter man, also with far shorter hair, though enough to be pulled up into a messy pony tail. The shorter man’s working the fryer, and putting together burgers as the taller man cooked up their various ingredients. There was also a strangely familiar kid with a mop of dark, curly hair washing dishes on the other side of the kitchen, barely visible.

Lola worked diligently, smiling and chatting away; she collected dishes, and ferried meals, and handed out slices of desert from the cute, multi-tiered desserts display on the counter. When she came back, milkshake in one hand, basket of fries in the other, Peach is fully caught up on each of her friend’s short but confusing histories with her, and blurts out -

“You’re Lola?” Injecting new meaning into the words, into the name, as if anyone else at their entire school had the same name. Lola’s smile goes a little tight as she places the fries and the milkshake before the redhead. Standing back up, she taps her nametag, which reads Lola, with little flowers drawn around it, and confirms, though it’s clear she’s more on edge than she was before.

“You guys ready to order?” She asks, still trying to keep up her chipper attitude, pulling out her notebook again. Everyone’s quieter this time, looking over the menu and finally deciding on food.

“My mom heard the owner was a chef, is that true?” Tommy asks, looking up from the menu to Lola again, and the tense set of her shoulders loosens considerably at the question.

“Leo is a chef,” Lola nodded, grinning broadly, “trained at the Culinary Institute of America back in the sixties, and worked his way up to being the head chef of Parker House in Boston, which I know probably doesn’t mean much to you guys, but it’s,” Lola laughs a little struggling to describe it, “it’s fine dining at it’s finest, but for the past twelve years, he’s been running Leo’s in Salem, and now he’s here, still using all that fine dining training for the anyone who wants a good meal at a good price.”

“Is that something they have you memorize in training?” Vince says, a little awed, and Lola gives a strange little smile.

“Leo’s my dad.”

Everything kind of fell into place after that, finally making sense, and the gang’s confusion quickly shifted to understanding, and the air around the table seemed to clear. It was easier after that, the teens in the booth ordering quickly, and the chatter picked up to a normal level as she moved away, shouting their order back to the kitchen once she was back at the counter.

She doesn’t spend much time at their table, still in charge of waitressing half of the tables and booths, but she always gives them a nod as she passes, and their meals are being delivered efficiently, so there’s no reason to complain.

The food itself, for diner food, is nothing short of spectacular, which kind of just raises more questions - why if Leo can cook food that tastes this good, and with all the experience he evidentially has, would he open a diner in suburban LA, and not a high-end restaurant? But it feels kind of intrusive to ask, so Charlotte simply enjoys her food, and her friends’ company.

Up until Vince starts complaining about the exchange student again.

“His name’s Nicholas, he shows up in a week, and mom’s making me clear out the basement so he can sleep there,” he’s despondently poking his milkshake with one of his fries, head propped up on one hand, “I’ve been asking for years if I could move into the basement, and this fucking Nicholas just gets it?” His whole expression scrunches up at the thought, and he angrily eats his fry.

“Wait, so the issue isn’t that you have to clean up the basement, it’s that he gets to use it as a bedroom and you don’t?” Charlotte frowned, lowering her own burger, “why would you even want to sleep in the basement?”

“Privacy!” Vince throws his hands in the air, eyes wide, “Tammi keeps complaining about getting cramps in the back of my car, but my bedroom walls are paper thin,” he huffs, “I need my own space.”

“Tammi?” Peach asks, her voice high and almost painfully chipper, “Tammi Frisk? She scored the winning goal in the softball final, right?” She’s not looking at Vince, when Charlotte looks over to her, she’s looking at her plate of fries, pushing the few left around without eating any, smiling in a way that’s clearly forced.

“You were at the softball final?” Tommy asked, frowning slightly. Peach did not look up.

“For the school paper,” she explained, voice still strange.

“You’re still with Tammi Frisk?” Eileen asks, making sure the disgust is clear in her voice as she draws the table’s attention away from the clearly uncomfortable Peach. Charlotte’s lip curled; she wanted to make sure her expression was as judgmental as possible when Vince turned back to her.

It’s not that she cared about who he was dating, she was mostly apathetic to Tammi, and knew little more about her than the fact that she was on the softball team, but Charlotte knew Vince had been dating Tammi when he’d decided to crush Peach’s heart publicly at the start of the last semester.

Neither Peach nor Eileen had told any of them exactly how, but apparently Eileen’s hatred was well warranted, both against Vince, and according to Eileen, Tammi too.

Vince, immediately sensing Eileen’s shift in tone, and seeing the look on her face, frowns.

“Kind of,” he responds flatly, and his gaze flicks to Peach, “not really,” he backtracks, and his indignation at the whole situation seems to fizzle out with a sigh, and he slouches, going back to paying attention to his burger, “she’s sort of hanging out with one of the second-string football guys, but they’re not... and we’re not really...” he trails off, despondent once more.

At least Vince seemed to be self-aware of the fact that he was an asshole to Peach, at least he had the decency to feel bad about it. Why he kept inviting Peach to hang out, despite the fact that he knew Eileen, who hated his guts, would come along too - invited or not - baffled Charlotte.

Tommy was his friend, and a guy, Charlotte was a cheerleader and technically popular, and so was usually begrudgingly invited too, but Peach, sweet Peach, recent Science Fair Winner, junior reporter for the school paper, treasurer for the AV Club, by all accounts ‘a nerd’ when judged by her interests, was still on the guest list of Vince Neil’s life, even if he wouldn’t admit that out loud.

It kind of made Charlotte want to punch him in the face.

But that’s not news.

“I hope the English exchange student is a decent influence on you,” Charlotte tells him. Vince scowls.

“You sound like my parents.”

you make me want to pretend to be a better man.

Now that school has started back up, Vince has thankfully had his car privileges returned, and Charlotte can return to not glowering in the back seat of Tommy’s car when he picks her up on the way to school, and drops her home on the days they both have practice.

But it’s Wednesday, first week back, and he’s uncharacteristically quiet. Usually he’s babbling about practice, or cheerleaders he thinks are pretty, or Lola, but today, he meets Charlotte in the carpark, leaning against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets, quiet. It’s decidedly unnerving.

“What’s wrong, Tom?” Charlotte asks, yanking the passenger door open once he unlocks it, sliding into the seat and putting her bag by her feet.

“Nothing,” Tommy voice betrays the lie, the thoughts so clearly on his mind that he was trying to avoid talking about. Charlotte won’t push him, if he wanted to tell her, he would, and he usually does, “put on some music, will you?” And Charlotte obligingly opens the glove compartment in front of her to look through the collection of 8track tapes he keeps in there, several of which had been Christmas gifts from Charlotte herself.

Feet on the dashboard, Charlotte’s more than content listening to Bon Jovi, bopping her head to the beat, when Tommy finally finds the words for his thoughts.

“Lola and Nikki Sixx are friends.”

Up until now, Charlotte was under the impression that Tommy, like her, thought Nikki and Lola would be great as friends, Tommy’s current tone implies otherwise.

“Is that not good?” Charlotte’s careful about her words, still not sure where Tommy’s hesitation was coming from.

“No, they make sense,” he’s quick to try and backtrack, words spilling from him almost too fast, “they make sense as friends.” He deliberates, before asking, “Charlie, you’re not friends with Nikki Sixx are you?” And it sounds like he already knows the answer. Charlotte hesitates.

“He keeps bothering me during my free periods, I wouldn’t exactly call us friends -”

“He called you Charlie,” its deadpan and accusatory in equal measure, and Charlotte shrinks back into her seat as Tommy keeps talking, “he called me ‘Charlie’s cousin’. It was weird.”

“I thought you wanted to be his friend -” she tries, right as they pull up to a red light, and Tommy fixes her with an unamused look, the only expression that makes him seem older than his years.

“Did you tell him I was obsessed with him?”

“No!” Charlotte snaps, automatically defensive.

“Because I’m not -”

“I never said - I told him you were a fan! That’s all! Like Duff was!” Charlotte tries to clear up, and Tommy looks back at the road, though this time he thankfully looks more pensive than angry. Only Bon Jovi cuts through the tense air between them for the rest of the drive back to Charlotte’s house, and when Tommy pulls up outside, he doesn’t say anything to her when she gets out.

The next day, like clockwork, fifteen minutes into her free period, Nikki Sixx comes climbing over the school’s fence, into the garden Charlotte had been trying to force herself to study in. In all honesty, she’d been waiting for him, picking at her nail polish beneath the table and reading the same sentence in Moby Dick over and over again.

“Miss Lee,” Nikki nods to her, a little gruffer than usual, “you seem more tense than usual; I can help you with that if you want,” but he still manages to smirk his way through an unsubtle come-on, and Charlotte rolls her eyes, not in the mood for their usual banter.

“I’d rather sit on a cactus,” she tells him icily, without even a teasing edge. Nikki’s eyebrows shoot up at the hostility, and he puts the packet of cigarettes that he’d about to offer her on the table, knowing she’d turn them down anyway, “I thought people weren’t meant to know that we know each other.”

“What people do?” Nikki frowned, raising his lighter to the cigarette between his lips, “is this about yesterday? I talked to your cousin, big deal. Everyone knows you two are related, and everyone knows you,” he looks pointedly to the embroidered logo on her cheer uniform, “I wasn’t even looking for him -”

“Dude,” Charlotte felt as though she was about to tear her hair out, “you called me Charlie to him, people don’t just call me that!”

“Plenty of people call you that! That leggy redhead you’re always hanging around calls you Charlie -”

“My friends call me that -” Charlotte snaps, “and I know you know that’s Eileen Austen.” And Nikki’s wearing a dreamy look, like he’s thinking unholy thoughts about Eileen as Charlotte speaks, before snapping out of it as the first of her words register like a bucket of ice water to the face.

“I’ve called you Charlie before. To your face.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Charlotte tells him dryly, crossing her arms, “it’s less effort if I don’t correct you. We’re so not friends that I don’t even care about correcting you.” Back when this school year started, Charlotte wouldn’t have dreamed saying half the nasty shit she’s thrown at Nikki Sixx, and at some point she may have to confront the idea that being around him has made her meaner, “but did you tell my cousin that I told you he was obsessed with you? Because I never -”

“I said I was glad he was a fan!” Nikki scowled, sitting back and glowering at her across the table, “all I wanted was to ask Lola if she wanted to sit on the roof with the rest of the smokers, and your fuckin’ yappy, dumbass of a cousin -”

Punching someone in the face hurts a lot more than Charlotte had been anticipating, but it’s worth it to see Nikki toppling backwards off of the picnic bench and onto the cold grass. His cigarette lies some few feet away while he lays groaning, clutching his cheek, and Charlotte’s standing, leaning, thighs pressed against the picnic table for support as she’s staring down at him, breathing heavy through her nose while the adrenaline rushes through her system.

“What the fuck, Charlie?”

“Don’t talk shit about Tommy,” her heart’s thundering in her chest, she can feel the blood rushing in her ears, and when she looks at her hand, she sees the skin of one of her knuckles has split enough to draw blood, “he has done fucking nothing to you apart from support you, and think you’re really fucking cool, for whatever dumbass reason, so don’t you dare talk shit about him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nikki groaned, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath after being winded so thoroughly, hand still cradling his cheek. That’s how Charlotte leaves him, slinging her bag onto her shoulder, and stalking towards the library to finish the rest of her free period in peace.

When Tommy drives Charlotte, Eileen, and Peach home after school that day, he’s quiet once again, but it somehow feels completely different to the oppressively accusatory air of the day before. The three girls were chattering away, trying to plan a trip to the mall for the upcoming weekend, and only when Peach and Eileen were waving goodbye in the rearview mirror did Tommy speak up.

“Did you punch Nikki Sixx in the face?” There’s a smile in her cousin’s voice, and Charlotte’s not quite sure how to react.

“I had good reason to,” she says, carefully guarded.

“He said you guys were friends, and then he thanked me for being coming to the gig a while back; told me he’d asked you to bring me specifically,” Tommy’s tone was oozing pride, and if Charlotte had been looking at him, and not frowning out the window, she would have seen how he was all but preening.

“He told you all that?” Charlotte’s anger at her memory’s of the morning’s altercation was fading fast.

“He hung out with me and Lola by the carpark for lunch,” Tommy paused, snorting a laugh, “didn’t want his buddies to find out a cheerleader gave him a black eye.”

“I - what? No I didn’t...” Charlotte’s eyes went wide, and finally she looked at her cousin’s beaming face.

“You definitely did; Lola laughed at him for a full ten minutes because of it.”

“Serves him right,” Charlotte said, with a begrudging little smile.

Nikki sits with Tommy and Lola on Friday too, which Tommy is delighted to inform Charlotte on Saturday while he’s driving them both to Vince’s, where his parents have invited them over to meet the exchange student. Nicholas.

He arrived on Wednesday, but Vince’s parents have given him the rest of the week to settle in, and had invited around the few friends Vince has that they deem to be a positive influence, if only so he knew a few faces around school.

Charlotte had been picturing some over-gelled boarding-school boy, used to itchy uniforms and strict rules, and about to get a good deal of culture shock hanging around Vince and the rest of their motley little pack, but when Charlotte brings this speculation up in the car, Tommy’s quick to dismiss it. Vince, from the little Tommy had spoken to him in the past two days, was over the moon, claimed that Nicholas - Vince had called him Razzle - was amazing. If Charlotte felt an quiet sense of foreboding at that sentiment, she felt it was justified.

The first thing either of them hear after being directed down to the basement by Vince’s mother, is Alice Cooper playing almost obnoxiously loud; Charlotte’s not sure why, but it eases something in her chest.

Nicholas’s - Razzle’s? - room, first and foremost, is possibly the coolest bedroom Charlotte’s ever been in. He’s decked it out with movie and band posters, though most of the band’s she’s never heard of. There’s string-lights above a desk, a bed crammed into one corner with a bright duvet, and even a sofa, and a few beanbags all crowded around a low, wooden table that had mostly been taken up with a record player, which is where they found their friends.

The name Razzle suited him, Charlotte considered, as she took in the newcomer’s appearance, all spiked up dark hair and ostentatious clothing, animatedly telling a story while Peach and Vince hung onto his every word. He looked almost wild, like collection of half-thought ideas all vying to become a reality through the texture of his clothes, the height of his hair, the hint of amusement that tailed his words, the passion shining in the blue of his eyes when they flicked to look at her and her cousin, standing on the stairs and watching him.

His words grow quiet as he takes them in, as if waiting for something to happen, for someone to introduce them.

“You must be Charlie and Tommy!” His accent, thick and bright, made her nickname sound so familiar on his lips.

“Charlotte,” Vince corrects, giving a surprisingly respectful nod to Charlotte, who tries to shrug nonchalantly.

“Charlie’s fine. You’re,” and Charlotte hesitates for a moment, ignoring Vince’s eyeroll, “Razzle, right?” Razzle’s smile is blinding at her immediate use of the nickname, and he waves them in.

Peach throws Tommy a cushion from the sofa when he asks, and he settles himself on the floor next to Vince, while Peach and Eileen squeeze over to make room for Charlotte on the sofa clearly only made for two people.

“I was just telling these guys ‘bout my band’s very first gig, ‘nd how I had to sneak out just to get there,” Razzle settled back into his own beanbag, hands out and ready to return to his story, eyes still shining with anticipation at the memory, or possibly just glad to have an audience.

Oh, Charlotte thought, looking at this boy she barely knew, already fighting off a smile in the face of his infectious enthusiasm, maybe Vince was becoming a better judge of character.

“You’re in a band?” Tommy’s eyes light up, and Charlotte gives her cousin a fond smile; Razzle has already won his seal of approval.

we need more good crazy. it'd be nice to watch the news, and think, 'that's fucking insane', but feel a little jealous instead of just alone.

Heather hasn’t been glowering as much at lunch, and the rumour is that it’s because she’s getting laid. Well, it’s less of a rumour to Charlotte, since Heather confirmed as much to the rest of the cheer squad when one of the girls asked her, but she’s being coy and secretive about who she’s with, which is the really weird part; Heather won’t say, and no-one’s coming forward, and lord knows that most guys at their school would jump at the opportunity to claim they’re banging the Vice Captain of the Cheerleading Squad.

But Charlotte knows not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and instead just smiles back when Heather gives her a sunny smile in the cafeteria.

Tommy is less than thrilled with the news when Charlotte brings it up in the car after school. Nikki’s still sitting with him and Lola during lunch, despite his bruising going down considerably over the weekend, and Tommy is equal parts delighted and uncomfortable, for reasons he can’t seem to put into words.

“At least Pam’s single,” he says it with as much of a dreamy sigh as he can manage, though it comes out more forlorn than anything else. Charlotte pets his shoulder, and reminds him that so is over half the squad; he perks up a little at that.

They pull into Mick’s gas station, and Charlotte waves to Mick and Lola, who are sitting on the step by the door sharing a cigarette. Lola waves back.

“Meant to give this to you,” Lola says to Charlotte, still sitting while Mick begrudgingly heads inside. Tommy follows him in, not needing to fill up the tank, but rather just looking to drown his sorrows regarding Heather in a jumbo slurpee. Outside, Charlotte waits with her hands in her pockets, giving Lola an amused smile, watching as the dark haired girl pulls a pin off of the jacket she practically lives in, and hands it over.

It’s a piece of black card stock cut into the shape of a star, barely an inch in diameter, taped to a safety pin. It say Punched Nikki Sixx in silver pen, one of the points of the star already a little bit crumpled.

“You’re a little bit punk, so you get a pin,” Lola tells her, smiling around her cigarette, looking quietly pleased, and perhaps even a little bit proud; whether of herself or of Charlotte, Charlotte can’t tell, but it still makes her flush.

“I thought Nikki didn’t want anyone knowing that a cheerleader gave him a black eye,” Charlotte mused, looking at the little pin, and Lola’s face scrunched up, expression falling.

“So? Who gives a shit?” She shrugs, looking away tone having shifted to almost forcibly neutral in an instant, “wear the pin or don’t, I don’t care.” Lola stands with a groan, without giving Charlotte a chance to respond, and calls to Mick that she’s heading to the diner. Mick waves, Tommy calls out a farewell, and Charlotte frowns, wondering what just happened.

“I hate that,” Nikki says flatly, the moment he spots the pin where Charlotte’s fixed it to the strap of her backpack. There’s no hard feelings between them after last week’s altercation, thankfully, though they don’t talk about it. If Charlotte’s glad that he still showed up, if she’s realised she may, in fact, enjoy his company, she keeps that information to herself.

“Lola made it for me,” Charlotte tells him. Nikki leans in, squinting at the handmade pin.

“Of course she did,” he sighs, leaning back. Surprisingly, there’s quiet between them for a few, long moments; maybe, Charlotte considers, this will be one of those mornings where Nikki uses their time together to catch up on sleep, and Charlotte can actually use her free period for it’s intended, study-related purpose, but then Nikki sighs like he wants her to ask what’s wrong.

So she does.

“I need a new band.”

“I can’t help you.”

“I know,” Nikki nods with resignation, “I was gonna ask this guy I work with, Slash, he plays guitar, but he’s already in one -”

“Wait, you don’t mean Duff’s friend Saul Hudson, do you?” Charlotte frowned, intrigued despite the stab of anger she felt at the mere mention of her ex. Nikki seemed taken aback by her question.

“You know Duff McKagan?”

“I dated him for a year and a half,” Charlotte finds herself suddenly very interested in drawing connecting triangles in the back of her notebook, not looking at Nikki, who’s quietly processing this information.

“He’s in a band now,” and neither of them seem to be quite sure why he offered that information, but they both let is hang between them for a moment.

“Makes sense,” Charlotte nods, tone flat, “with Saul - Slash?”

“Yeah,” is all Nikki has to say.

“Slash is a good kid, I always liked him,” Charlotte offered, and finally she looks up, “Tommy plays drums.”

“Marching band isn’t exactly -” Nikki begins, but Charlotte’s shaking her head.

“No, like, legit drums,” she enthuses, “his parents fixed up their whole garage to make it sound proof for him,” but she doesn’t want Nikki to think she’s pushing her cousin on him too hard, not after last week, so she sits back, and crosses her arms, trying to play it cool, “I mean, you can ask him yourself, see if he’s any good.” She shrugs, but Nikki looks like he’s already considering it.

“How many musicians do you know, Charlie?” He finally asks, giving her a faint, amused smile.

“Probably too many,” Charlotte responds with a longsuffering smile, before her mind turns to the things Tommy himself had told her, “I heard you and Lola are getting along; what’d I tell you?” She teased, and much to her surprise, what she could see of Nikki’s face, for his hair, was turning pink.

“She’s a bitch; you know she’s a bitch, right?” He asks, but he’s grinning, all sharp and dangerously amused.

“I knew you guys would get along,” Charlotte gives a pleased little sigh, as if she’d manufactured their whole friendship herself. Nikki rolls his eyes at her, and the bell goes.

Tommy, as it turns out, thinks they’re sleeping together, at least that’s what he tells Charlotte when they’re on their way to Leo’s after school to meet up with Vince, Razzle, Peach, and Eileen. The news of Nikki and Lola’s potential affair surprises Charlotte at first, but after a moment of consideration, she thinks she should have seen it coming.

Tommy’s reasoning is that they’ve become friends far quicker than he’d realised, and Nikki’s always giving Lola lifts after work, like they’re going in the same direction, even though he’d pretty sure Nikki doesn’t live near Leo’s. It also turns out that that was what had been bothering him about Nikki and Lola being friends; he still tries to insist he doesn’t have a crush on Lola, but he and Charlotte both know that’s mostly a lie.

So Charlotte can see how conflicted he is when he tells her that Nikki’s looking to start a new band, and that he asked about Tommy possibly playing drums. A beat of silence follows, and then, without looking away from the road, Tommy mutters a quiet thanks, knowing without asking that Charlotte had been the one to recommend him. Charlotte leans over and bumps her forehead against his shoulder in unspoken acknowledgment.

“Duff’s in a band,” Charlotte’s voice is soft and a little unreadable.

“Sorry,” Tommy mutters, tone somber like it’s the worst news in the world, “we could throw rotten tomatoes at him?” He suggested, at the mental picture alone was enough to make Charlotte laugh, “or is that just in the movies?”

“I think that’s just in the movies,” Charlotte says, amid giggles, “besides, the rest of his band doesn’t deserve that.”

In the week that Razzle’s been in LA, Vince and his family have taken him to several, sophisticated restaurants in the vicinity, and Razzle had apparently loved them all; Leo’s was no different. He was sitting across from Charlotte in the booth, at the end of the table, reading the menu intently as the others chattered away about their day, making noises of intrigue every time he spotted something new he wanted to try. His knee knocked hers under the table, but it barely seemed to register, so engrossed in the menu that he muttered the faintest apology.

“Afternoon, guys, welcome,” Lola at work never failed to startle Charlotte, despite the fact that she’d been here once already since the first time. At least her chipper introduction seemed to bring Razzle back to reality.

“Hi, yes - oh! I know you!” Razzle lit up at the sight of Lola, and the rest of the gathered teens watched with interest, trying not to give away how intrigued they were to see Lola’s reaction, “Miss Honky Cat, you work here?”

What?

“Alright, Razzle, you found me, did you wanna order something?” Lola says, with a good-natured eyeroll, and an easy grin, hip cocked to one side. Razzle asks her what she recommends, and orders that, and then the rest of them, who had been sitting in stunned silence, are quick to order for themselves.

When she leaves, it’s mere moments before Tommy asks what that was all about, and Razzle’s eyes go wide.

“That’s Lola, innit? From school? She’s in my music class, was playing Honky Cat on the piano in the second music room, the Elton song, you know, when we had some free this morning,” he explained, confused, “she called me Rocketman when I picked what she’d been playing, but I told her my name’s Razzle.”

“You’re an enigma,” ironically, it’s Eileen who says this, wearing a fond little smile, while Razzle just looked bemused.

“I think it’s the accent, chicks fuckin’ love it,” Vince pipes up, smirking, and Razzle tries to hide his own pleased little grin since he can’t very well deny it, “Pam was all over him in Phys Ed yesterday -”

“We were just having a conversation -” Razzle was quickly turning red, while Vince clutched at his arm, putting on a high voice, twirling his blonde hair around one finger as he pretended to be Pam.

“Oh Nicholas, tell me more about The Clash, please, I want to know more!” He ended with a fake moan, which had Eileen and Peach laughing, while Razzle grabbed Charlotte’s hand and exaggeratedly mouthed ‘help me’.

“Pam’s into Razzle?” Tommy groaned, breaking the moment, falling dejectedly against Vince, who was already leaning pretty heavily on Razzle, who was then ejected from his seat and onto the floor, while Vince was draped over where he was just sitting, and Tommy was draped over Vince, “I’m gonna die alone.”

Despite Tommy’s despair, the rest of the table was greatly amused.

Thankfully for Razzle, it wasn’t a far fall, and he’d held tight to Charlotte’s hand, so at least he hadn’t ended up flat on his back, and Charlotte gave him an apologetic grin as she helped him to his feet. He lets go to dust himself off, and it’s here Charlotte notices his maroon, velvet pants, and black and white leather shoes with their little heel.

“Fancy threads,” Charlotte points out, notes of approval in her voice. Razzle makes a move to straightening a jacket he’s not wearing, and clicks his heels together, drawing the attention of the rest of the table to his shoes, of which they all make various noises of approval, or at least interest.

“I dress to impress,” and judging by his tone, if he were as crass as Vince or Nikki, he would have winked, but Charlotte’s kind of glad he refrained. He then shoves Vince, and by extension Tommy, back up to a sitting position, retaking his seat across from Charlotte, this time purposefully knocking his knee against hers.

Charlotte’s glad that Lola’s back with their drinks, so she can look at something that’s not Razzle’s sunny smile, because she doesn’t want to think about how pretty it makes him look. Stupid, British, band boy and his stupid, blue eyes.

But then she’s looking at Lola, and all she can remember is Tommy’s dejected expression when he told her that Lola and Nikki were possibly sleeping together, and Nikki’s half-hidden, bashful grin when he calls a bitch with a kind of fondness that Charlotte had never heard from him before. The urge to protect her cousin, from harm, from heartbreak, is carved into her bones, but part of her knows it would him hurt more to let him keep falling for Lola when she’d never really end up catching him. Suddenly staring into the depths of her soda became the safest option.

i have loved since you. but when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath.

Heather, of all people, is holding a party, and she tries to limit the amount of people she tells - the squad and her friends were the first to be invited - but of course, the guest list spirals out of control, and it’s exactly one and a half days before Tommy’s mooning over the fact that he’s been invited to a party at an actual cheerleader’s house.

“Dude, you’re killing me here,” Charlotte tells him at lunch; she’s finally sitting with him, Lola, and Nikki, though Nikki’s late. Heather had coyly asked her to ask Vince to bring Razzle - the cute English guy, specifically - and Charlotte had picked up her bag and left. Something about Heather in a good mood was worse than when she was being catty.

“You don’t count, you’re my cousin,” Tommy waived her off, and Lola snorted a laugh from where she was laying in the grass, using her backpack as a pillow. “You going?” Tommy pokes Lola in the ribs and she smacks his hand away, but makes an affirmative noise, and throws her arm over her eyes to shield them from the sun.

Something about how that makes Tommy smile, almost pleased, has worry sinking heavy in Charlotte’s gut.

“Heather asked me to ask Vince to invite Razzle,” Charlotte’s not quite sure why she says it, or why it makes Lola bark a laugh of her own, but at least it get’s Tommy’s mind off of last time he and Lola were at a party.

“Of course -” Tommy sighs, but then, in the very same breath, he lights up like a lightbulb, “wait! If Heather’s preoccupied with Razzle, and Pam’s going, then I -” he turned sharply to Charlotte, eyes wide, “is Pam seeing anyone?” Charlotte gives him an amused, but longsuffering look, shaking her head.

“You gonna put the moves on her?” Lola’s smirking, and Tommy’s steadily turning red, but refusing to be embarrassed.

“It’s now or never, you know? She’s graduating in a few months, will go to college and date some meathead, college footballer, this is my chance,” he enthused, and Charlotte pet his shoulder in solidarity.

Nikki joins them halfway through lunch, right as Lola and Charlotte find themselves playing angel and devil on Tommy’s shoulders regarding how he should dress for the party. Charlotte’s firmly of the opinion that he should be be wearing bright, eye-catching things - “Come on, you know Pam likes those new-wave guys!” - while Lola was adamantly recommending to go all-out punk.

“Don’t ask Nikki’s opinion, you know who he’s going to side with,” Charlotte implored, and as if to prove a point, Nikki throws his bag to the side, and lays down with his head pillowed on Lola’s stomach.

“Because Nikki has taste,” Lola throws her arm above her head, into the grass, neck at an awkward angle as she looks, wide-eyed to Tommy.

“Thank you,” Nikki grumbles, and immediately closes his eyes, “what are we arguing about?” A pause, then, “and why is Charlie here?”

“Heather asked Charlie to bring Razz to the party next weekend,” Tommy says, the words sounding rote off his tongue, before he gets into the meat of the argument, laying himself back in the grass. Somehow it makes Charlotte feel left out, being the only one left marginally upright, and she slouches a little lower against the fence.

Tommy explains his conundrum, and much to everyone’s surprise, Nikki refrains from giving his opinion, sighting that he has no clue what Pam would like, and that he’s not taking the fall if Tommy looks like a dickhead and crashes and burns while talking to, arguably, the most popular girl in school.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole,” Tommy groans, without really thinking, and as the realization and subsequent horror took over his expression, Lola barked a laugh, and even Nikki was grinning.

The moment was surprisingly light, Tommy’s face buried in his hands, though he’s now hiding a smile, and Charlotte is surprised at how easy it is to smile and laugh here, these people accepting her presence without another thought. The politics of the cafeteria make it all feel so foreign, but Tommy said ‘Charlie’s sitting here now’ and Nikki and Lola took it in stride.

And later, Eileen will ask her where she was at lunch, will go on to sigh and roll her eyes as she recounts barely sitting through five minutes of the cheerleaders buzzing like cheerful, little hornets, discussing who would be at the party, and how they would coordinate their outfits. She’d spent another five minutes with the swim team, who spent the entire time picking apart her backstroke technique since she ‘finally decided to join them’.

“This is why I don’t sit with them,” Eileen had frowned, sitting in the McDonalds carpark, absentmindedly violating her soda with it’s straw out of frustration, Charlotte, wide-eyed, quietly eats her terrible, oily fries, and lets Eileen vent, “if I have to listen to one more five-am-gym-going-wannabe-sports-scholarship tell me my form is off, I’m going to go full Carrie-At-The-Prom at our next meet,” Eileen warned, and reached over to snatch a fry. Very few people were ever privy to Eileen’s frustration, as the redhead seemed to do a rather good job of bottling it up, but Charlotte personally felt honored that her friend could be so honest around her.

“I was thinking of joining yearbook, maybe? Or the school paper with...” a strange moment of hesitation, “with Peach,” Eileen paused, taking a long moment to think, and take a sip of her drink, eyes glass as she stared out at the highway as cars passed before them, “auditions for the school play are on Friday,” she adds, like she’s seriously considering it, “it’s Singin’ In The Rain, Keanu actually suggested I should audition.” The idea that Keanu and Eileen have talked enough for him to suggest that she audition for a musical and for her to serious consider it is kind of baffling; Charlotte doesn’t process the meaning behind any of this now, however, just files it away in the back of her mind for later.

“Macy moved to Portland over the Summer,” Charlotte feigns seriousness with her suggestion instead, trying not to give away how amused she is, already anticipating Eileen’s response, “we’re holding cheer tryouts to replace her on Tuesday,” Eileen’s expression is already souring, almost comedically disgusted at Charlotte’s implied suggestion, though she lets the blonde finish, “you were the best bottom-right to the pyramid we’ve ever had,” she said, barely stifling giggles as Eileen turns to her.

“I’d rather die,” her lip curled, and Charlotte leaned over the center console of the minivan to press her forehead against Eileen’s shoulder, and Eileen reaches up with her free hand to scratch gently at Charlotte’s scalp, before bursting out with, “and my form’s not even bad! The coach loves me, Charlie, she loves me, they just think they’re better than me, bunch of clique-y, insular, webbed-toe bitches.”

The words hang in the air, a surprising outburst from the usually reserved and thoughtful girl.

“Do they really have webbed toes?” Charlotte asks, turning so her temple still pressed against the soft cashmere of Eileen’s sweater, but she was following the ginger’s gaze out to the highway ahead. Eileen gives a tired, little laugh, as if her outburst had left her exhausted.

“No.”

Charlotte wants more than anything to ask her what’s wrong, but knows better than anyone that Eileen only says exactly what she wants someone else to know. Instead, she offers her fries silently. Eileen takes one.

“Peach and I got into a fight today,” voice barely above a whisper, Eileen follows her words with a sigh, and suddenly her out of character frustration made complete, and utter sense. For all that she’s known both Peach and Eileen, Charlotte has never known their altercations to be quick or painless affairs, “Vince invited her to Heather’s party.”

“He invited her himself?” Charlotte’s not sure what the issue is beyond their general dislike of Vince, but if Vince himself is starting to possibly change, then it’s hard to see the issue.

“Yeah,” Eileen seems to know what Charlotte’s thinking, and pauses to find the right words, “I don’t trust him, and I don’t know how she can trust him either.” There’s a quality to her voice that Charlotte’s only heard rarely; uncertainty, “and I don’t want her going to Heather’s party, I barely want to go myself, and what if she drinks, and what if she does terrible things she regrets -?” Eileen cuts herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and leaning her head back against the headrest.

“I get it,” Charlotte says, so gentle, so understanding, but Eileen’s still quiet.

“She’s my little sister, Charlie,” Eileen sighed, “and it’s like our parents couldn’t care less, so I have to protect her, and I have to keep her from the guy she thinks is the love of her life, and I have to be the one to always remind her of all the shitty things he’s done and remind her that life isn’t a goddamn fairytale.” She sounds close to tears, soda cup between her knees and hands clutching, white knuckled, at the steering wheel, or else she may have been tearing her hair out.

There was a shake in her voice, tight and exhausted in equal measure, like the words had sat, unspoken, pressed against her teeth, for far longer than Charlotte had realized she’d been thinking them. Charlotte rests her hand on Eileen’s.

“She loves you more than anyone else in the world, you know that right? She’s just sixteen, you know all the drama and shit we went through last year -”

“I can’t watch her go through what you went through with Duff,” the words escaped Eileen in a rush, and she clamps her mouth shut, sitting forward in the driver’s seat, lips pressed into a thin line, as Charlotte’s heart sank in her chest, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Charlotte sat back in her own seat, nodding dejectedly, fiddling with her bracelet.

“You... Charlie, you know you’re my best friend, and I love you, and seeing you in pain with no way to help,” Eileen’s hands slid down the sides of the steering wheel as she forced herself to relax, though her words have Charlotte’s heart swelling with fondness, “it fucking killed me,” she admitted, leaning back, letting her shoulders sags with the weight of her words, like the weight of the world, and as she leaned back, she looked to Charlotte, so unguarded, so sincere, “I can’t let Vince break Peach’s heart like that.”

Eileen has always looked and seemed older than her seventeen years, but it’s strange to see her like this, to be reminded that she holds within her this unassuming duality. To protect is her first instinct, herself, her feelings, her friends, her family, but she’s still so young, just a kid; she still deserves to be protected too.

“I’m so tired,” Eileen murmurs, gaze dropping to her hands, now folded in her lap, and she huffs a humorless laugh, “I’m seventeen, Charlie, I’m fucking tired of feeling thirty.”

#nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #nikki sixx imagine #tommy lee imagine #vince neil imagine #motley crue #the dirt #the dirt imagine #motley crue imagine #the angry lizard writes #charlotte & lola #lola&charlotte

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