#yes i did wait until it hit midnight where i live to post this

[raleighcarrera]

understanding

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

~2k words | M

raleigh and cadence have an understanding. for the @choicesmaychallenge day 27 prompt of the same name.

they have an understanding. if he enters through the front door, she’s supposed to come in through the back. cadence isn’t allowed to text or call late at night, anymore, and when they do get together, after they’re done, under no circumstances can she ask him to stay.

because he’s weak, and he will.

at this point in his career, he should be better at saying ‘no’ to his pr team and his manager and everyone who pretends to know what’s best for him. it’s not like he gives a shit what anyone else wants -- and the advice of a few old stuffy suits has hardly held him back before. 

but being with him has only ever hurt her, and that’s difficult to stomach, even though he knows it’s true. so maybe they have a point, when they say that he should give cadence her space -- at least where the public is concerned. that’s probably what fiona and the rest of her team wants for her, too. even if cadence is too nice to say it, tying herself to walking disaster, raleigh carrera -- r&b’s time bomb -- is something that’s certainly left her in more bad conversations than good ones.

he knows because he’s seen the things they all say about her, online. she’s never brought it up to him before, but he’s not blind. it isn’t just her -- it’s any girl he’d be with, any woman the fans could pick apart and the media could judge. though cadence has seemed to attract more negative attention than other models or actresses he’s been out with in the past, for whatever reason. that’s probably his fault, somehow, too.

so -- he found himself a new girlfriend, who’s so desperate for fame she’ll take any press she can get, and now he and cadence have an understanding, instead of a relationship. 

it’s... something. it isn’t ideal, especially because it obviously wears on her. it certainly isn’t what he wants, but her public image is positive, now, so maybe that makes his suffering worth it. 

he pegged her as a goody-two-shoes from the moment they met, and she’s never grown out of that, even with all the fame and fortune in the world at her fingertips. like someone who’s never been to the principal’s office before, cadence follows his terms to a t, and doesn’t ask him to stay even though he wants her to. 

she doesn’t ever slip up -- she never calls at the wrong time, never accidentally gets caught by paparazzi sneaking in somewhere she isn’t supposed to be, and part of him wants her to do that, too, so that ending this ridiculous charade can be out of his hands. 

cadence doesn’t, though. she won’t. 

put simply... that sucks. 

for someone whose livelihood revolves around being able to put words together poetically, he can’t quite find a way to express how he feels about this shitty, stupid situation -- to her or anyone else. most of the time, it makes him unfairly angry at her, that she doesn’t mess up, that she doesn’t force him to call it all off, that she doesn’t ask for more. the rest of the time, raleigh finds that he’s annoyed with himself for being such a martyr -- for being a fucking coward.

she really does deserve better. 

a good guy would cut her off completely. he should do the right thing and give cadence a clean break -- set her free. say or do something so hurtful she’ll have no choice but to never think of him again.

he isn’t a good guy, though. he isn’t a martyr. he’s selfish, and if she’s going to keep sneaking around with him so willingly, he’s going to keep taking advantage.

at the crux of it, that’s what he’s best at: taking. 

though he wonders, as she falls apart beneath his hands, whispering the most beautiful exhales of his name, how anyone could be expected to give this up. even in his heyday, when he’d made a point of never ever seeing the same girl twice, raleigh doesn’t think he could have turned his back on this -- on the way cadence always shakes under his lips, on the rosy tint that covers the full apples of her cheeks when he twists his hips just right, on the shape of her beautiful mouth when she wails the walls down. 

silence surrounds them afterwards, when she finally comes back to herself. there used to be a time when this moment was his favorite part of the evening, when she’d let raleigh keep kissing her until she started hiccuping because he wouldn’t let up enough for her to catch her breath. back when they were together for real, he used to rely on the comfort of the companionably hushed moments they shared, especially after she made him come so hard he saw stars. 

now the quiet that fills the room is stifling. cadence pulls the bed sheet all the way up to her neck.

this should be the ideal situation -- they can be together, mostly, and it doesn’t have to hurt her. so why does it feel like such a disaster?

raleigh turns his head and catches a glimpse of her face, pained where she’s already watching him from her side of the bed, and realization washes over him. right. because it is hurting her.

he doesn’t know what to say to her, but she finally has mercy on him and takes it out of his hands. “i can’t do this anymore.”

raleigh pushes up onto his side, staring at her. “what?”

cadence purses her lips, and he watches with a dawning horror as her wide, expressive eyes turn glassy. she shakes her head. “i don’t want to do this anymore, raleigh. not like this.”

he studies the expression on her face, looking for weak points he can exploit. god, you are such a shitty, shitty person, his mind scolds. “why?”

“because --” a rough exhale cuts her off. he keeps staring at her even as she flops on her back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. then whatever dam’s been holding the words back within her breaks, and she unloads on him, all at once, the words tripping out in one breathless rush. “i don’t want to sneak around anymore. i don’t like keeping this a secret. i hate -- that we never get to spend any real time together anymore, i hate having to see you with her everywhere i turn, i hate -- i hate the way i feel when i leave here, i hate that it doesn’t bother you more.” her head turns on the pillow to look at him pleadingly. “why doesn’t it bother you more?”

raleigh clenches his jaw, trying to remember to think before he speaks for once. “cadence... of course it bothers me.”

she shakes her head. “but why doesn’t it bother you more? why doesn’t it bother you enough?”

he lifts a hand to rub roughly at his eyes, pressing his fingers into them until he sees spots. the last time they had a conversation this self-reflective, he was high out of his mind. what he wouldn’t give to go back in time, just this once. 

“i guess i’ve had longer to get used to this than you have,” he answers, though even he can hear how the words ring hollow. she deserves a better explanation, he’s not so out of touch that he can’t see that. the expression on his face twists into a grimace. “you know what it’s like to date me. you don’t want that.”

“maybe i do.” 

he huffs, rolling to the edge of the bed. he sits on the edge of the mattress, staring out the window. his back is to her, and they’re up on the fifty-second floor, but there’s nothing he wouldn’t give for some idiot with a camera and a telescopic lens to get a peek in here, now, and put him out of his misery. “well, i don’t want that for you.” there. that’s the honesty she deserves.

raleigh can hear her shifting in the sheets behind him. the mattress dips as she gets up. “you don’t get to just decide that for me.”

he keeps his eyes resolutely trained on the window, even though he can see her in his peripheral vision, tip-toeing around the bedroom, picking up the pieces of her outfit. “i do if i’m the one that has to watch it ruin your life.” 

“being with you didn’t ruin my life. i never said --”

“you didn’t have to.” he hasn’t smoked in years, but the sight of her, there, half-dressed in his bedroom when he turns his head around to finally look at her, makes him crave nicotine desperately. “because i saw it on my own. and i’m not going to be responsible for that.”

“so -- fuck what i want, right?” it’s probably good that he’s made her angry. it’ll make it easier for her to leave him behind, and he won’t have to listen to that rasp in her voice, the thick sadness that won’t leave. “god forbid any of us dare to go against the whims of raleigh carrera.”

“look, what do you want me to say?” he bites out, annoyed. “that i’m no fucking good for you? that you should stop wasting your time here and move on with your life, already? i’ve said it a hundred times. you never listen.”

he gets a good look at her, then. cadence is half-dressed and pissed, in her skirt and bra, holding her shirt in one hand. her hair is a mess, and she’s glaring at him -- beautifully, like she does everything else. she is so fucking pretty. it makes him sick.

“i want you to be honest with yourself! i want you to admit that you feel something. i want things to go back to the way they were, when we were together and happy, raleigh.” her eyes narrow in that rare way he’s seen them do, sometimes -- that once in a blue moon moment when she’s about to say something mean. “i don’t want you like this anymore. i want all of you, or nothing. no more halves.”

so that’s it, then. he swallows, wordlessly slipping out of bed to reach for his own clothes, dressing silently beside her. they don’t touch at all -- not like when they’d undressed, earlier, frantically kissing and tripping over each other’s feet on their way to the bed. she’s obviously waiting for him to say something.

“i’ll walk you out.”

“raleigh.”

he’d been hoping to avoid looking at her. it was going to make getting her out of here a lot easier, but the sound of her voice, cutting through his thoughts like that, makes it impossible. god, is he weak. 

he steps into her space, grabbing her face in his hands. immediately, cadence sighs like this is what she’s been waiting for; she sinks against him, letting him push her mouth open with his tongue, letting him pull at her hair, letting him take, take, take.

she hiccups when he finally lets her up for air. the sound makes him weirdly emotional -- nostalgic in a painful way -- and he shuts his eyes as fast as he can, in the hopes that it’ll be before she notices. 

cadence touches him so gently -- more than he deserves -- and that lets him know that he wasn’t as subtle as he was hoping for. raleigh blinks his wet eyes open, and she hiccups again, drawing a laugh from him against his will. 

she laughs, too. then she lets him gently brush her hair back off her face -- lets him finish helping her get dressed. she lets him walk her all the way downstairs, and lets him kiss her goodbye in the lobby, and lets him watch her leave out the front door to the sound of shouting questions and the sight of camera flashes. 

they do understand each other. 

he just hopes she's right.

[stardustincarnate]

CONFESSION // Mello x Reader

word count : 4016 genre : fluff a/n : i haven’t gotten over my writer’s block, so yes -- here i am, once again posting old fics from my wattpad account. 

Today is the day.

After contemplating about it for a couple of weeks and confiding it to his best pal, Matt, Mello has finally decided to confess his feelings for you tonight, exploiting the situation where you two will normally go riding on the city streets during Friday midnights such as this one.

To say the least, he isn't the best in this kind of thing— love, that is. Before, all he could think about was one thing which was proving that he's better than Near, and besides, no one really piqued his interest. But then the enigma that you are came.

You can be cunningly evil at times if you want to. You'll often say to the ones you've fooled or to the other mafia members, "It's nothing personal, it's just business." You also have a harsh mouth as he would like to describe. Anything that comes out of it may sound derisive or blatant, but it's basically the truth. You don't sugarcoat things— you don't even try to. Although sometimes you seem to make the truth more cruel than it really is, which makes you look too intimidating for the others. They're only thankful that you don't talk very often and only will if you have something conducive to say.

But that's not all that you are. Mello could feel it, so he grew curious of you. Just a mere speck of curiosity, but then it grew. He wanted to talk to you, but then he asked himself what's the point of doing so, thus he disregarded the idea. That's why you developed a friendship with Matt, who you think is really fun to be with, first. Then as your friendship grew, he thought of introducing you to Mello, and that's when it began. To be frank the beginning of your friendship wasn't easy, and to think that friendship only started growing not until you celebrated a year and a half of being with the mafia.

It was a long process, but in the end, it was worth the wait. Day by day he started lowering the walls he barricaded himself with, and same as you. He became really outgoing and deep down truly caring as your friend, like he is with Matt, because after all you two are the only family he has. And— let's not forget his strange addiction with chocolates! And, well, you like it.

You like him.

Mello knows this as well. He knows that his feelings are reciprocated and he's happy with that. But the question is, who's going to make the first move? Certainly not you. Between fighting the devil and confessing your feelings for someone, you'd probably choose the former. You don't seem like the kind of person who will make the first move. He as well is like that.

And that leads us to his acquiescence of doing it instead. Did he have a choice? Well, maybe, if one considers you doing it instead, but that will definitely take several months, or even years, from now. And he can't wait that long! What if you suddenly start to develop feelings for another person? He can't lose you, you that is just in front of his eyes, one step away from him. He needs to grab the opportunity while it still is there.

Because with you, he feels happy and contented. And for the first time he finally feels like he is number one.

And he really is, in your heart.

"Wooh!"

Matt exclaims after slamming the door, causing Mello to jolt upwards from his reverie. "You know I almost got caught by another mem!"

"Is it done?"

"Of course."

"Hm. You sure this suggestion is for the better? You know how scary that woman can be when she's mad. Especially after finding out that her tires have been flattened."

"Didn't you say you wanted something more romantic tonight? So, I thought of flattening her tires so she can't use her own scooter, that way she can ride with you."

"Uh-uh... Is it romantic though?"

"You two will be close enough. And—no perverted thoughts—she gets to wrap her arms around you while riding. If that's not romantic, I literally don't know what is."

"I'm having qualms about this one."

"What? I'm just as clueless as you are when it comes to romance. I'm doing my best here to help you ya know?"

"I know, I know. Sorry."

"It's your fault you fell in love with her." Matt jests, chuckling. But he immediately behaves himself when he sees that deadly glare of his friend. "Hey! I was only kidding! Don't look at me like that, Mels. You're creeping me out."

"Hah. But I guess you're right. My fault. And great— now I'm having more doubts than before and feeling.. tentative."

"The almighty Mello is nervous? Wow. I never thought I'd live to see this day!"

"Say one more word and I'll make sure it's the last you'll ever emit."

"HE-HE-HEY! Now you're just being belligerent. Don't worry. I'm sure you two will come back here as a couple. Swear it on my life. So stop doubting yourself. And just.. don't act awkward and dorky when confessing towards your little devil."

"Just how am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. Just don't."

Mello heaves a sigh. "Sometimes I do wonder if you're really the smart Matt they used to talk about back in the orphanage."

Matt only grins. He's about to reply, but then they both hear footsteps—angry footsteps—coming closer.

"Oh, speaking of the devil. Here she comes. In three.. two.. one.."

With that, you kick the door open and look around. You look like you're about to whip someone's ass and the men can almost laugh at your reaction knowing the reason behind it. You give them a steely look when they unknowingly start to curve their lips to a grin. They quickly change their reaction.

"This has gotta be one of the worse days of my life!" You exclaim as you slump on the sofa beside Mello. "I can't go with you. I've got a flat tire, and I have no idea why. Someone must've done it.."

"Who would do such a terrible thing? Especially to you, the devil no one else even bothers to approach?" Mello momentarily glances at Matt before taking a bite of his chocolate, which you then steals from his grip. "But don't worry, I gotcha. You can ride me... with me I mean! You can ride with me, NOT RIDE ME—good Lord I'm sorry."

'Aha, and there goes Matt's reminder that I shouldn't act awkward.' He looks away with a blush.

"I think [Y/N] is okay with either of that—"

You raise an eyebrow at Matt. "Oh, you mean you Mathematics. You can ride him all you want so don't be shy and put my name in your shoes."

"That's not—!"

"—ANYWAYS, Willy Wonka, you sure you okay with me riding with you? You won't mind?"

"Jesus, stop calling me that! And yes. You're my friend so I won't mind."

"Thanks mate!" To his surprise, you hug him from the side. And you are hugging him a little too much. "You know I've always wanted to ride your motor. It looks cooler than mine."

"Ah.. well— you're squeezing me a bit too much.. don't you think?"

You pull away and snicker. "Sorry. You're like a marshmallow that I just want to squeeze sometimes."

"EHEM. Pardon me, will you? I need to go to the restroom."

Matt stands up, thinking that his job here as cupid is done—or not quite yet. He has one last plan in mind. And even he isn't sure that that plan is going to make things better or worse.

"Enjoy taking another dump!" You shout as he leaves the room, making sure to lock it. Now you and Mello are completely alone, facing one another in utter silence. And it's too silent that you can hear some of the other mafia members arguing in a distant room. You can even hear someone moaning. Mello can hear it too.

You both give each other a look that only you two can understand.

"Oof. Must be nice. Err, so anyways," you start. "The usual place tonight?" And by that you mean stopping by to go atop a dilapidated building in a forsaken road to stargaze with him for ten minutes. You two make sure to always include going there to find tranquility in the stars and with each other. It temporarily removes all the problems and worries you have.

With Mello ruefully shaking his head, you frown. He puts an arm over your shoulder and nods reassuringly instead. You hide a smile.

"We can do that next week or earlier if we're not too preoccupied so don't be so glum. I'll be taking you somewhere new. I'm sure you'll like it."

"I hope so. Otherwise I'm gonna kick your ass."

"You'll be the one getting your ass kicked it if you don't give me back my chocolate right now."

"But I need chocolate too! Chocolate makes you happy. So I need it, 'kay?!"

"As far as I know that chocolate is mine and not yours???"

"But I'm your friend aren't I? You still have a lot of stock in there I'm sure."

"I'm running out of chocolates so give it back you little demon."

He hastily maneuvers before you can even stand up and try running away. He seizes your wrists and places your arms behind your back to prevent you from moving. Since you two are facing each other instead of him being behind you, the position is rather awkward. The proximity of your faces makes both of you blush and in an instance he backs away. You cackle in triumph as to his dismay of not getting his chocolate back.

You look at your wristwatch before taking a bite of the sweet. "Well Marsh-Mello, what are we waiting for? Let's hit the road! I'm already bored." You hold his hand the moment he stands up and you two run outside.

Mello throws the helmet to you which almost hit your face, earning an irked look from you. He then starts the engine as you wear your helmet.

When he starts to move just before you can take a seat, you panic. Of course he only wants to toy with you. He stops at a corner and waits for you, who's running and ready to smash his face. You pant as you finally reach him.

"You little bastard! Why'd you have to make me suffer?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You groan and then sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The closeness of your bodies make you both blush. He makes sure you're all set before once again driving in a high speed that made you hug him tighter. You've always known that he drives this fast, but to experience it yourself? It feels like your skin is being blown away and seperated from your bones.

"W-Would you mind slowing down, just a bit?"

"Come on [Y/N], that's not fun."

"So you call this fun? You're gonna kill us both. I'm too beautiful to die right now!"

"Tsk. You're no fun." You're about to make a rebuttal but he slows down reluctantly and matches the speed you will normally drive at. You sigh in relief and absently rests your chin on his right shoulder, looking at the stores, buildings, and a few people walking on the sidewalk which you are hastily passing by. On your left you see numbered vehicles and a few more buildings.

You're enjoying the ride, however, you hear the tire from behind pop. That is already bad, and worse comes when the front one pops too. He goes to the side before halting.

"Shit! Just our luck!"

"Haha seems like you and I share the same fate, huh? Goals."

Mello sighs as a realization dawns him.

'Matt.. you little shit.'

"Whadda we do now?" You worriedly ask.

"We're still halfway to the place I'm taking you and this happens.. I suppose I can just park this somewhere. You wouldn't mind walking, would you?"

"Sounds fine with me then."

He nods and parks the motor beside a bicycle and a car in front of a store, placing a tracker in it just in case it gets stolen. But if it ever does, he can just get another one. Legally or not. Doesn't matter.

In silence, you and Mello start walking side by side. Arriving upon a city bridge you can't help but stare at the river. The limit to what you can see on its side is a lively city despite the hour, with skyscrapers and billboard signs lit up. You can hear the occasional, distant sounds of car engines.

You avert your gaze back in the front, meeting chatty people on your way who are walking opposite to you and Mello. You realize that they're mostly couples who are matching clothes and openly talking, not caring if they're to be heard by others. Mello also notices, and not only that but the way you two undeniably look like one. Without any intentions, your clothes match. Not that it's a big deal since everyday you two wear black, but because of your surroundings, he might as well seize the opportunity.

Beaming from ear to ear, he holds your hand and intertwines your fingers together. You're confused, but at the same time liking it, a blush creeping on your face.

"Don't mind if I do. We don't wanna look like a couple who can't bear with each other after some kind of quarrel, do we?"

"But we're not a couple."

"No, not yet."

You stop and raise an eyebrow.

"Oop. Did I say that out loud? My bad."

He cheekily grins. It's only a joke, you think, but at the same time you wish that he's not joking—which he really isn't.

"Hey, how long are we going to walk?"

"Why? Are your feet giving up already? Want a piggyback?"

You completely turn red. He smiles at that.

"Nah.. I—"

"Don't waste the opportunity. I might change my mind later."

"I don't care. This is enough."

You squeeze his hand tightly—too tight that he swears he feel his phalanges breaking—but unexpectedly, he just moans. And people look at the two of you.

"The fuck was that?!? I didn't know you were some kind of masochist!"

"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD?"

"AHA so you do admit being a masochist!!"

"WHAT? NO! I'M NOT!"

"Why so defensive now?"

"Because people are hearing you???"

"Let them! HAHAHAHA! MY BOYFRIEND IS A MASOCHIST! ISN'T THAT CUTE??"

But after realizing what you just said, you stop and gnaw your lower lip.

"Oh earth swallow me right now.. Sorry! God I'm embarrassed. You're not my boyfriend—"

"Didn't I tell you? Not yet."

You punch his shoulder playfully. "Stop joking around! I might actually believe you ya know?"

"Who said I was joking?"

"..Of course you are—"

"—OH, here we are!"

He diverts the topic, leaving you to slightly pout to yourself as he turns left to an unoccupied and dark area, pulling you to the railing where you two halt and see the perfect angle to view the city and the river from. The water and its light ripples glimmer under the moonlight as the brisk wind hits your skin, making you slightly shiver. Mello notices this and takes off his jacket, insisting you should wear it instead. You don't argue.

"Mello, this is.. magnificent. And a nice spot to stargaze as well! It's pretty wherever I lay my eyes on."

"Except behind us, maybe. You don't like trees that much."

You cackle. "They give me the creeps, especially during night. But at least we don't have to face that way, do we?"

He shakes his head as he laughs, inclining himself closer to you. He places his hands just beside yours on the railing, looking up and then looking at you, who's still busy admiring the sky.

He can't help but smile admiring you in your adorable placidity.

"The stars are pretty tonight." You say as you notice him looking at you in your peripheral vision.

"You always say that. They're always pretty. Sparkly."

"Mesmerizing to look at." You add. He nods, still staring at you.

"That's why I love the stars.."

"Uh huh. And chocolate." You grin.

"And you."

You stand flabbergasted, daring not to look at him directly. Your heart feels like it's about to jolt out of your chest. Your fingers begin to tremble on their own as you feel something intangible whirling inside your stomach. You know what it is—and he's making your heart flutter. But you can't trust this feeling as you aren't even sure if he's joking or not. And if he is, you kinda hate it. You want it to be real.

"Aye, don't flirt with me. That's so not you." You snap, rolling your eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to perceive what's on your mind. He taps your shoulder before sitting on the railing, inviting you to join him. You're a little hesitant for the fear of falling to the water. And when it comes to this kind of thing, you don't trust Mello. You're sure he'll eventually push you. The number of times he had done this to you in some places before is something you can't even count anymore.

"C'mon [Y/N]. Don't be scared. I won't push you. Or if I do, you're free to drag me as well."

"Tch. So you do intend to push me." Nevertheless, you sit beside him and grip the bars tightly with your clammy palms. Luckily the concrete extends six inches after the railing.

Mello feels like you two aren't physically close enough, and he thinks it's not 'romantic' enough, so he slides even closer to you until his palm is already above your hand and your shoulders bump.

"Oh, no. You keep your distance, Mr. Wonka."

"It's not like we're having social distancing here you know?"

"You're too close."

"And I'm going to get even closer.."

He whispers, his hot breath tickling the side of your neck. You sigh and face him, and your noses bump. You urgently back away and you almost slip if not for him.

"What's gotten into your system for you to act so flirty all of a sudden?"

"You."

"MELLO!! I'm damn serious. Like, all the jests can wait but for now, just.. don't flirt with me. I'm in no mood."

"Aww, trying to shoo me away huh? After stealing my heart and my chocolates, here you are suddenly breaking my poor, poor heart."

"One more attempt and I'm going to drown you."

"Heeeeeeey. Don't be so vicious now." He softly bumps your shoulder with his. You only click your tongue in annoyance.

"Seriously. Stop messing with me. I hate you."

"No you don't. I'm not messing with you. I'm serious—"

"Tch. Serious my ass."

"..You don't have one—"

"See? You little fucktard. You keep on messing with me. So just stop flirting with me. I swear I'll kill you if you continue."

"Whaaat? Seriously, I'm not messing with you. You gotta—"

"Mels, no, no, no. You can poke fun of me, push me off right now or anything but just don't flirt with me. You're a bastard for torturing my feelings. That's not cool at all. Damn it," you spat. He keep his silence, his mouth starting to gape.

"Don't make me assume things because I really, really, really like you!"

The words pour out unbidden. Your voice resonates and immediately you shut up and look down with a furious blush.

'That's it, congratulations for possibly ruining your friendship.' You think as you bite your lower lip.

Your blush vanishes as the fluttering feeling in your chest does, being replaced with instant regret, as if your heart has dropped to your stomach.

The look of surprise in his face turns to a cheeky grin. With much glee, he chuckles.

"I've always known this devil is a pure softie inside..."

"M-Mello.."

You are about to tear up, but then he says, "Do you know what you just did? You ruined my plans, [Y/N]! But I suppose I can forgive you for that."

"What?? Plan?? Damn you, damn you, damn you! I knew you were up to no good! Damn it, Mello! Pretend this night never existed. I'm outta here—"

"No no, it's not what you think. 'I like you' was supposed to be my line, not yours!" He can't help but burst out laughing, leaving you momentarily dazed, but then when you realize what he possibly meant by that, it's as if your heart has come back to life. Your face turns red.

"I was going to confess to you tonight, but it looks like the tables had turned. You are a.. partypooper! Do you know how many times I've practice saying that in front of Matt, just to end up with you saying it instead of me? Unbelievable!"

He wheezes, catches his breath, then looks at you. "And look, I'm not complaining, alright? Haha.. but the way things turn out to be in the end is just so.. whimsical. But I'm gonna say it anyway: I like you. I like you a lot."

You scrutinize his facial expression just to be sure that he's serious, and you confirm he truly is. He's absently smiling, and just from staring at you is the reason. Rapture dances in his eyes. He looks genuinely happy and candid at the moment. And here you are left speechless, only staring at him as a sheepish smile slowly invades your face.

You almost lose your grip on the railing when he briefly kisses your cheek. And again, nothing comes out of your mouth.

"Do I also need to say that I wanna be your boyfriend? Because, isn't it obvious?"

"Mello..."

"No pressure, [Y/N]. If we both like each other but you're not yet ready for a relationship, I understand and I can wait."

"Well.." You hide your face on his shoulder because you feel like the longer you stare at him, the more probable it is that you'll faint. "Uhm.. Err... Have you ever been.. in a relationship?"

"No, not really. You will be my first one. If you accept."

You smile. "Well, same as you here."

"Really? I thought you already had a partner or two before."

"I had no time to be in love. Add that some of the people I was acquainted with sucked, and the kind ones.. well, let's just say that they seemed to be missing something.. something that, I suppose, only you have. And.. it will really make me happy if you are to be my first," you lift your head up to meet his eyes. "So I accept."

"You serious?? Right here?? Right now??"

"Need I repeat myself, partner-in-crime?"

"Haha! Course not!"

You peck his cheek as your warm smile broadens. You then rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes never leaving the distant city as he wraps an arm around your waist, meticulous so that you two wouldn't slip from the railing and fall down.

"I think it's safe to assume now that you're the one behind flattening my tires. And just so I can ride with you. You're a cunning man, so I suppose you also did something with your own scooter just so we could walk together, like couples in movies. Haha I never thought you'd think something like that!"

"It was Matt's idea. Swear. He thought it was more romantic that way. And he's probably the one who rigged my scooter. He really can be a huge pain in the ass sometimes."

"Like you are."

"Aw come on. Take that back you little demon!"

"Noooopeeeee! Pfahahaha— AAAA SHIT!"

And with that, you both plunge into the frigid water with a loud splash.

[today-only-happens-once]

out of focus

title: out of focus

word count: 3955

summary: 

The actions of a Fire Nation admiral during a meeting causes some problems for Sokka. The words of that admiral causes some problems for Zuko. They try to take care of each other. 

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?” 

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Warnings: burns (description of), violence, threats of violence, discussion of canonical child abuse, characters curse but no curse words are written, character is non-permanently injured, yelling/arguing, trauma

A/N: me? writing a zukka AtLA fic and posting it an hour short of midnight? Apparently, it’s more likely that you’d think. 

Read on AO3

--

Zuko has the patience of a saint, Sokka thinks to himself.

It’s an unusual thought, he realizes. A year ago, if you’d told Sokka that he’d come to think of the Banished Prince as ‘patient’, he’d probably have thrown his boomerang at you. A year ago, Zuko was one of the most short-tempered people he knew. A year ago, Zuko was the face of the enemy.

A lot changes in a year.

Sokka barely stifles a frustrated sigh. The attempt does not seem to go unnoticed by Zuko, who glances at him quickly before the corner of his mouth twitches with something like amusement. The meeting had been going on for hours, and Sokka can’t help but feel that very little progress on the treaty had been made. It wasn’t for lack of trying, Sokka knows, but war leaves messy problems in its wake. He knows that both the literal and metaphorical shrapnel left behind by a century of conflict can’t be swept away in a night or a week or a month.

It doesn’t make these meetings any easier to sit through.

“I want immediate release of all prisoners of war,” an Earth Kingdom ambassador demands.

“I second that,” Sokka hears his father--sitting across the table from him--add, a bit more calmly but no less firm. “I have men in those prisons that haven’t seen their family in a decade.”

“Of course,” Zuko replies at the same time a Fire Nation soldier snaps, “absolutely not.”

Zuko levels a hard look at him. “Admiral, people who were arrested as prisoners of war have no need to remain so after the war has ended.” He looks to Hakoda, then to the Earth Kingdom ambassador. “I’ll draft that mandate tonight and will ensure it’s circulation as soon as possible.”

“This is an outrage!” The slam of a fist against the table makes Sokka’s hand fly to the boomerang strapped to his hip instinctively. The admiral is on his feet.

“Admiral,” Zuko says, his voice steely as he rises from his own chair. The Fire Nation soldier cuts him off.

“Where is the justice for the Fire Nation families whose sons and daughters were slaughtered by those criminals?”

“Admiral--”

“I remember a time when you cared about Fire Nation soldiers! And it’s hard to believe you’ve forgotten, seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror--”

“Enough!” Zuko snaps. “You will watch your tongue or you will be escorted out. You approach insubordination.”

“You are a child,” the admiral sneers. “Though one that ought to know a thing or two about insubordination, given your father’s attempts to brand you with a permanent reminder of its consequences--”

“Warriors!”

“Then again, he always was twice the leader you will never be. Long live the Phoenix King!”

Sokka sees the warning signs—the slight shift of weight, the clench of the man’s fists—and leaps to his feet. “Zuko--!”

“Sokka!”

There’s a blinding light and scorching heat. Sokka feels something slam onto his shoulder and he dives instinctively for cover as the familiar roar of a fireball explodes in front of him. The flames are bright and lick around him, and Sokka throws a hand up to protect his face. He blinks the spots from his vision as he yanks his boomerang out of his belt.

Zuko is standing beside him, his stance ready and his hand outstretched, having evidently dispelled the fireball that had been launched at him. Sokka leaps back up to his feet and hurls the boomerang in his hands towards the Admiral, hitting his hand right as he moves to launch another attack and forcing it to go wide. A burst of flames slam against the wall to the left.

The room is in chaos.

Sokka barely hears the shouts of alarm and curses over the roar of dying flames. He sees his father, already on his feet, diving underneath a bolt of red fire. Across the room, the Earth Kingdom ambassador jerks their hand. There’s a rumble in the ground before it rises and anchors around the Admiral’s feet, holding him in place.

Sokka sees the admiral’s gaze meet his own and narrow. The Fire Nation soldier bares his teeth in a snarl, his fist shooting out. Before Sokka can blink, Zuko steps in front of him, dispelling the flames just as the door ricochets open. Two Kyoshi Warriors flood in and in a series of quick strikes, the admiral drops. Awake, but limp.

Sokka thinks idly that he’s grateful that Ty Lee taught them how to block chi.

“Your father should have killed you that day!” the admiral shouts as he’s dragged through the doors. “He showed mercy on your pathetic, worthless—” the door slamming shut cuts him off.

The silence that follows makes Sokka’s ears ring. He can still feel stale adrenaline coursing through him, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. For a moment, nobody moves. Zuko awkwardly clears his throat.

“Apologies for the, uh, disruption. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Firelord Zuko,” Hakoda assures him, but there’s something odd in his father’s expression when he looks at Zuko that Sokka doesn’t understand.

Zuko says something in response, but Sokka doesn’t catch it. As the adrenaline bleeds out of him, his muscles relaxing, Sokka realizes that his fists are still clenched. Sokka forces them to relax, and hisses as it sends a jolt of hot pain through his left hand. When he looks down, he realizes that the skin on the top of part of his hand near his knuckles is a blistering, angry red.

Sokka’s hiss doesn’t go unnoticed. Zuko looks at him over his shoulder, his brows drawn together in confusion before his eyes fall to Sokka’s hand. Then, they go wide.

Zuko turns back around suddenly to address the room, his back straighter. “We will adjourn the meeting for the afternoon. We will reconvene tomorrow.”

“Firelord Zuko—” an ambassador from the Northern Water Tribe protests, but Hakoda interrupts him.

“I think we could all use a breather, Kovrik. Coming back tomorrow with a clear head is a good decision.”

“Yes… yes, I suppose that’s fair.”

Sokka is finding it increasingly difficult to follow the conversation. His hand hurts, and it’s taking every last drop of his willpower and pride to grit his teeth and swallow back the whimper that wants to push up his throat. It’s not until Zuko’s face is taking up his entire field of vision that Sokka realizes everyone but the two of them and his father have left the room.

“Let me see,” Zuko says quietly, then curses under his breath when he looks at Sokka’s hand. “Where’s Katara when you need her.”

“Do you have anything that can help?” Hakoda asks from behind Zuko.

“Yes, sir,” Zuko replies, his brows still furrowed in concentration. “Though it’s not quite as immediate as waterbending healers. But it should help with the pain, and prevent infection. Follow me.”

Sokka feels Zuko take his elbow and guide him out the door of the meeting room and down the hall. He’s distantly aware that Zuko is moving quickly—not quite a jog, but only barely shy of it—through a network of corridors. His hand feels like it might still be on fire, and Sokka looks down at it again just to be sure that’s not actually the case. He tells himself that he’s endured injuries more painful than this. The broken leg was worse, he thinks, though it does little to actually help with the burning sensation in his hand.

He’s vaguely aware that Zuko says something quickly to two guards that are flanking a set of doors before he rushes in. Sokka looks up and realizes it’s Zuko’s chambers. He’d only been in here a couple of times before, largely while Zuko was still recovering from Azula’s lightning strike in the weeks following the end of the war.

“Wait here,” Zuko tells him before disappearing through another door on the far side of the room.

“You had good reflexes in there,” Sokka hears his father’s low, soothing voice speak up. He’d had almost forgotten he was there. Hakoda moves the chair that had been beside the bed closer to Sokka in a clear direction to sit down.

“Lots of practice,” Sokka replies as he sits. He hisses a little again as his hand flares and grits out a swear behind clenched teeth.

“Easy,” Hakoda says softly. He places a bracing, comforting hand between Sokka’s shoulder blades. It’s grounding, and he’s grateful.

“Wish Katara was here,” Sokka tells him, echoing Zuko’s comment from earlier.

“I know. Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s coming to Caldera for a while. She’s still in Ba Sing Se with Aang.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Her magic water comes in handy though.” Sokka gives his father a tight smile. “Get it? Hand-y?”

Hakoda snorts just as the door opens again. Zuko has his arms full of a large bowl, his hands fisting a few vials and some bandages. There’s something pinched about Zuko’s expression, and the way he doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes as he kneels in front of him feels odd. The bowl is full of water, Sokka realizes, as he sets it on the ground and begins to empty the vials into it.

“Can I see your hand?” Zuko asks, and the question—for some reason—catches him off guard.

Sokka blinks. “Yeah. Sure.” He grimaces as he places his hand in Zuko’s, but the excessive gentleness surprises him so much that Sokka almost forgets that his hand hurts.

Zuko was many things, but Sokka can’t remember a time—even after he started to get along with the Fire Prince—that he would have described Zuko as gentle. But his grip on Sokka’s hand is careful. Almost excessively so.  

Zuko hums in the back of his throat as he inspects the burns. “I don’t think it’ll have permanent damage,” he says quietly. “But I still need to treat it so it doesn’t get infected. It… might hurt, a little. But then it should feel better.”

“No permanent damage. That’s good,” Sokka says. He swallows, and nods. “Okay.”

For a long moment, the only sounds that fills the room is the quiet splash of water in the bowl as Zuko submerges the cloth rag again and wrings it out. Sokka lets his gaze float around the room.

Zuko has left it mostly bare. There’s a portrait of Iroh and a woman that Sokka remembers being the Fire Lady—Zuko’s mother—hanging on the wall near the headboard of the bed. On the dresser beside it is a drawing that Sokka did of the group of them months ago. He sees a pile of papers on the desk across the room. He thinks one of them has Aang’s signature at the bottom, but it’s too far away for him to know for sure.

Bright, painful heat searing his hand slams his attention back to Zuko in front of him and Sokka yelps, yanking his hand away. Zuko grimaces, retracing his own hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding more earnest than Sokka expects. “This part is painful, but it’ll stop hurting in a minute.”

Sokka fights to pull his breathing back under his control. In through his nose, out through his mouth. “Right,” he manages, his voice tight. “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know it hurts.”

Something about that line—and about the fact that Zuko still hasn’t met his eyes since returning from the other room—drags Sokka’s thoughts back to the conversation in the treaty meeting. There were several things that the admiral had said to Zuko that Sokka didn’t quite understand. He could only remember pieces of things said, but they repeat in Sokka’s head like disjointed pieces of a puzzle that he can’t quite make fit together.

seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror… insubordination… your father’s attempts to brand you… consequences…

Sokka’s gaze falls back to Zuko, dutifully bowed in front of him. There had long been pieces about Zuko that Sokka had found puzzling. Things about him that didn’t quite fit together. Sokka considers himself a person pretty good at figuring out how things worked together, and that extended (with less success) to figuring out how parts of people make up the sum of their whole.

Zuko, though… Zuko had always been something of a mystery. But as the words of the admiral ricochet in his mind, there’s a picture beginning to come together that is still just a little too hazy, a little too out of focus, to fill in the spaces that Sokka felt were missing.

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?”

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Sokka’s brow furrows as Zuko presses the rag to the back of his hand again. Sokka realizes that his hand has stopped hurting, but he’s too preoccupied with what Zuko said to pay it much mind. “After the stuff at Ba Sing Se? When you went home?”

“No, I, uh.” Zuko clears his throat. “Before that. Before… yeah. Earlier.”

Your father’s attempts to brand you…

“What happened?” Sokka asks. The way Zuko’s shoulders seem to tense doesn’t escape his attention, and there’s a part of him that wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. But it also feels like a question that once asked, is too late to take back.

Zuko pats Sokka’s hand dry with another towel and begins to gingerly wrap a bandage around it. He keeps his gold gaze steady on the work. Sokka keeps his gaze steady on Zuko.

“My uncle allowed me to attend a war meeting where they were talking about some battle strategies to use against an Earth Kingdom battalion. There was a general that wanted our newest fleet to serve as a distraction while we mounted an attack from the rear,” Zuko begins. There’s something off about his voice, though. Something detached and careful. He keeps wrapping the bandage. Around and around and around.

Sokka frowns. “That’s not fair,” he says. “Your newest recruits? They’d be slaughtered by an experienced battalion like that.”

Zuko sighs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Exactly,” he says in a low voice. “And that’s what I told them. I wasn’t thinking. I just… yelled at him.” Sokka opens his mouth to disagree—it sounds like Zuko was thinking, unlike anybody else at that meeting—but Zuko cuts him off as he secures the end of the bandage to Sokka’s palm. “My father didn’t… take it well. I was challenged to an Agni Kai, and I thought I would be facing the general in it, so I accepted.”

Zuko gathers the bowl and empty vials as he stands, crossing the room to set them on the edge of his desk. Sokka stands up slowly as Zuko does so. The pieces that had been out of focus for so long are starting to come together, and Sokka feels his stomach rolling with a leaden weight against what he can sense is coming.

“No…”

“It wasn’t the general,” Zuko continues, his voice so quiet that Sokka is sure he would have missed it if it hadn’t been dead silence around them. “It was my father.”

“You faced your father in an Agni Kai?”

“Not exactly. I…” Zuko stares down into the bowl of water beside him, his gaze distant. “I couldn’t fight my own father. Instead, I begged him for forgiveness. I was met with a fistful of flames.”

Zuko gestures vaguely at his face, and Sokka’s blood turns to ice.

“He…” Sokka’s throat closes, cutting off the rest of that sentence. All this time being chased by Zuko—all this time being friends with him—and he’d always assumed that the scar was the result of a training accident, or a fight with a firebender he lost. Sokka thinks bitterly and viciously that the second assumption wasn’t far off but his own father—

“I was banished after that,” Zuko says, and his voice is hollow and empty and wrong. And he finally, finally, meets Sokka’s gaze. “I was told to bring the Avatar back and all would be forgiven, or to not come back at all. That was before you and your sister woke Aang up from the iceberg.”

Sokka stands very, very still. He glances down and realizes his hands are trembling. He curls the non-bandaged one into a fist to get the shaking to stop. “How old were you?” he asks, and he doesn’t know why—of everything he could say—that’s the question that tumbles past his lips, but he feels like it matters.

“Thirteen.”

“Thir—” Sokka cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand across his mouth and swallowing hard. “Thirteen. Tui and La, when I was thirteen—”

Sokka breaks off again, his throat closing, his gaze falling to his father. When Sokka was thirteen, his father had left to go fight in the war and told Sokka he couldn’t come along. He’d protected Sokka, and though Sokka had found his way into fighting in the war regardless a few years later, he knows his father had only been trying to keep him safe. The idea of his own father striking him—let alone with a fist full of flames to his face—was incomprehensible.

Hakoda doesn’t look back at Sokka. His gaze is trained on Zuko, and there’s something in his eyes that Sokka doesn’t quite understand. But he’s seen it before. It was the same look Hakoda wears when he hears other water tribe soldiers recount war stories. The late-night ones. The ones where their voices betray the weight on their shoulders and tremble with the generations of nightmares on their backs.

Sokka takes a sudden, faltering step forward, and Zuko instinctively tenses. Sokka freezes. “Zuko…”

Zuko shakes his head. He coughs a little, as if trying to clear his throat. “Anyway. That’s—that’s what the admiral was talking about.”

“You…” Sokka tries again, his voice carrying just the barest hints of hysteria. “You were his kid.”

“Yeah, well.” Zuko’s gaze meets Sokka’s again. “He spent most of my life wishing I wasn’t.”

“Zuko,” Hakoda speaks up, his voice a low, soothing rumble to Sokka’s trembling nerves. “I… hope you understand that you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know, sir,” he replies, sounding steadier than Sokka feels. Sokka feels a little like the ground has shifted beneath his feet as he stares at his friend across the room. Zuko continues, frustratingly calm. “It… I didn’t at first. It took me a long time to understand that it was wrong of my father to do that. But I know now.”

“Where is he?” Sokka demands, flushing with a sudden and intense fury.

Zuko blinks, looking taken aback by the vehemence charged through Sokka’s voice like a steel rod. “Where’s who?”

“Ozai.”

“Sokka, what are you gonna do? Fight him? He already lost.”

“Against Aang, not against—did Aang even know?”

Zuko’s brow furrows and he rubs the back of his neck. “Um. I guess I don’t know. I never told him. I… never told any of you.”

“Yeah—and what’s that about, huh?” Sokka demands. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Sokka,” Hakoda warns, but Sokka’s words are already bubbling up throat and spilling past his lips, hot and bitter and angry.

“What, did you think we wouldn’t care? That it wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Zuko waves a hand towards the window that overlooks the courtyard. “My father already lost to the Avatar, Sokka. The war is over. The fighting is over. Aang took his bending. And that—I don’t know about you, but that’s the best, most justified end to his legacy I can think of.”

Sokka is still shaking. He can’t explain why. He knows, logically, that Zuko is right. He’s right. But Sokka can still feel his hands shaking, can still feel his heart hammering in his ribs with the urge to run something through with sword, can still feel the way his eyes sting with tears he won’t let fall. Sokka clenches his jaw and rips his gaze away from Zuko out towards the window, where he can see the sun setting on the horizon and painting the palace courtyard in an orange light.

“Wherever he is, I hope he rots,” Sokka says finally, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough. “He deserves worse.”

Sokka looks back at Zuko, whose gaze is a little wide. He looks… taken aback. Sokka cocks an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you disagree—"

“No,” Zuko replies, shaking his head. “I just… Nothing.” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in the barest hint of a smile. Sokka doesn’t understand why, just like he doesn’t understand why it uncoils the tight knot of burning anger in his chest.

Sokka takes a deep breath. Wills himself to relax. It helps… a little. There’s a beat, and then Sokka hears his father take a step forward. “Thank you for helping Sokka’s hand, Firelord Zuko.”

Zuko blinks, and Sokka swears his cheeks take a faint pink tint as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh, of course, sir. And… just Zuko is fine.”

Sokka glances over and sees Hakoda smile, inclining his head. “Understood.” He looks to Sokka. “I should draft a letter to Bato tonight to update him on the treaty. Will you be okay without me?”

Sokka rolls his eyes teasingly. “Yeah, dad. I think I can manage.”

Hakoda squeezes his shoulder, nods to Zuko again, and quietly slips out of the room. The silence afterward seems to stretch, and Sokka feels the lingering tension bleeding out of him as he looks at Zuko, who quietly shuffles through the papers on his desk. Sokka watches him for a beat, his gaze lingering a little on the scarred tissue across his face. Sokka swallows.

There are other questions Sokka thinks he could ask. Like why—after doing that—Zuko was still so bent on returning home to his father. But there’s a part of Sokka that thinks he maybe understands.

Spirits know that he understood what it was like to crave the approval of your father.

“Hey,” he says, and Zuko’s gaze snaps over to him. “I… thank you for telling me. I… know that wasn’t easy, and… it means a lot that you trust me with that.”

“It… it wasn’t a question of trust, you know,” Zuko replies quietly, averting his gaze. “Not telling you, I mean. It was just—”

“I know,” Sokka says, and means it. “But I also know what it’s like to have things you don’t necessarily… want to relive. So it means a lot that you told me.”

The corner of Zuko’s mouth twitches again. He takes a deep, slow breath. “Thank you for listening,” he says.

“I like to think I’m a pretty good listener,” Sokka teases, shrugging.

“You are,” Zuko says, with far more sincerity than Sokka felt was warranted for what he’d meant to be a joke. Sokka blinks at him, and Zuko clears his throat, ducking his head a little. “I was thinking of getting some tea. There’s a place just outside the palace. It’s not as good as Uncle’s, but um. Did you want to come?”

“Yeah,” Sokka replies with a small smile. “I could use a cup of tea.”  

[otonymous]

It’s The End Of The World (MLQC Headcanon)

Dear Nonny...

I say that now, Nonny, but the truth is that the ONLY thing I love more than smut is angst! Mwahahaha! 🤣🤣 That being said, let’s take a one-way trip to Angst Town!  Everybody got their seatbelts on?!  LET’S GO!!! (Please note warnings below before reading 💕💕💕)

Warnings: angst, explicit language, trigger warnings (mentions of speeding, near-death experiences and flashbacks, nausea & vomiting, insomnia, slight mention of possessive behaviour, workaholism, loss of appetite and weight loss, anger and violent behaviour (not towards other people though!)) and SPOILERS (basically up to chapter 24 in the EN server; includes dates and Rumours & Secrets for the boys) 

Gavin:

DEVASTATED.  This man is absolutely devastated.

Gavin has known you since high school and loved you since then

You were his dream girl — the one he thought had got away until his duties brought you back into his life.  He had vowed to protect you till the very end, had absolutely no qualms about giving his life for yours.  He made a solemn promise to himself that he would never lose you a second time

Until that fateful day when you invited him out for lunch at Lynn’s Kitchen on the grounds of your old high school

You order his favourites, spicy noodles and lemon tea; wait until his stomach is full before you open your mouth to gently broach the topic

“Gavin…I…”

A single glance at your face tells Gavin that something is terribly off.  He’s immediately setting his chopsticks down, asking, “What’s wrong?  You know you can talk to me about anything.  Whatever it is, I’ll help you—”

“Shaw.  We…we’ve decided to be together.  I know you’re not on good terms, and he did insist on coming today, but I thought it would be best if I told you myself…”

He cannot hear  

He cannot move  

And it isn’t until the burning sensation in his lungs catches up with him that he realizes he hadn’t even been breathing

Amber eyes, listless and dull, float from your lips to the wall decorated with Post-It notes just behind you, moving from one colourful slip of paper to another

“I hate it when people leave without saying goodbye.”

Gavin still remembers the loops and dashes of your handwriting on the Post-It note you had written so long ago, the way you dotted your i’s with hearts

And all of a sudden, he is back in his high school uniform, bloodied and bruised and free falling from the roof of the four-storey building

Except this time, he cannot hear the strains of a piano, no matter how hard he tries.  The gingko leaves around him flutter to the ground just before…

“Gavin?”  The touch of your hand on his snaps him out of his reverie.  He tries to force a smile and fails.

“I…I’m sorry.  There’s somewhere…I just remembered…I have to go….”  He hurriedly puts a few bills on the table — more than enough to cover the entire meal — and dashes out of the restaurant

Gavin hops on Sparky and just goes…riding for hours on end with no destination in mind.  He’s taken with an intense urge to go fast, as if his body were trying to outrun the feelings he doesn’t have the means of dealing with.  At one point, an overwhelming wave of nausea hits him and he stops at the side of the road, retching and retching until his stomach is as empty as his hollowed-out heart

He’s still thinking of you the entire time he’s MIA.  The last text from his phone is one sent to you, telling you not to worry about him and apologizing for the way he behaved back at the restaurant.  He’s asking if you’d still be okay with talking to him when he gets back, and of course, to contact him immediately if you need anything at all

He still feels you in the wind

Believe it or not, for a short period of time, Gavin actually develops a fear of flying: it reminds him too much of you, brings up too many memories of him holding you in his arms as you traverse the skies together.  He’s not confident he can do it anymore, partly because he thinks his Evol might suddenly give out when he’s high up in the air

The turning point comes when Gavin visits his mother’s resting place.  There, for the first time since you broke the news to him, he actually cries, and it gives him the strength to carry on

Let’s be clear: Gavin will never, ever be over you.  The two of you will remain friends though because Gavin intends to watch over you for the rest of his life (that is one promise he would never break)

With time, he gets used to seeing you with Shaw, even starts to relax a bit when he realizes that his younger brother is capable of protecting you

Someday, Gavin will marry — likely someone who was set up with him either by Minor or his colleagues (Birdcop would never take the initiative to actually meet somebody).  This person is absolutely smitten with the handsome officer and his gruff ways and cannot wait to start a family with him.  They would also have to be thick-skinned and stubborn enough to turn Gavin’s “no” into an eventual “yes”

And while Gavin would prove to be a loyal husband and doting father who would do anything for his family, a part of him would always, always, continue to burn for you.

Lucien:

How do you expect this man to behave when he’s lost the only colour in his life?

Lucien would never, ever recover from this.  He doesn’t want to.  The man for whom love was never meant to happen has no need for such an emotion.  He wants nothing to do with it unless it has to do with you

The professor’s world literally returns to being a drab shadow of blacks and greys — the rainbow disappeared when his little butterfly flew into the palm of another’s hand

“Do you love him?” He’ll ask you, dark eyes almost hypnotic in their intensity when he pierces you with that gaze

You’re ashamed to find that you have to think twice before replying that you do indeed love Victor

Ba-bump, ba-bump, BA-BUMP — Lucien breaks out into a cold sweat as his heart begins to race, face becoming pale as a sheet

His shaking hands are pulled into tight fists within the pockets of his lab coat.  He’s running his finger over the cap of his pill bottle inside one of them, not wanting to take them in front of you because in spite of it all, the last thing he wants is for you to worry about him 😭😭😭

Lucien nods, placid smile a mask on his face when he says,  “I wish the two of you nothing but the best.”

“Lucien!”  You start after him when he turns to walk away.  “We…we’re still friends, right?”

For what is possibly the first time in his entire life, Lucien can’t think straight.  His mind is a mess, logical thoughts tangled up with sorrow, hurt, anger, and the sense that the world could end at that very moment and he wouldn’t even bat an eye.

He takes a deep breath, composing himself before he turns to face you again: “Of course.  You can always come to me if you ever need anything.”  It takes everything in him not to fall apart when he lays a hand on the crown of your head, savouring the heat of your body for the very last time

In the days immediately afterwards, the people around Lucien better watch out as his ability to keep cool, calm and collected is challenged: he’s giving the side-eye to his colleagues at the research institute more often then usual, and Black Swan members literally want to run the other way when they see him coming.  If they thought Ares was ruthless before then they’d better watch out now…

As if it were even humanly possible, the professor sleeps even less now: if he’s not in the lab, he’s literally wiling away the hours watching old Hollywood films

Sometimes, he’ll place his hand on the handle to the door of your apartment, closing his eyes and doing his best to pretend that he can still feel your palm in his (he knows you’re not home.  You so rarely are these days…)

Unbeknownst to you, Lucien spends his weekends revisiting the places you used to go together: sitting on the same bench at the aquarium where you kissed him without a second thought, wandering to the theme park you ran away to as a child just to watch the carousel spin round and round, trying his best to keep a smile on his face when the kids at the orphanage ask him where his “pretty lady friend” is

Lucien actually has a kite that he bought ages ago, intent on fulfilling his promise to one day fly it with you.  It sits in his apartment still.  He can’t bring himself to dispose of it.

Gives you his pen, Iridescent, as part of his wedding gift to you.  “May it always bring you luck, wherever you are and…whomever you’re with.”

Regardless of where he is, Lucien will always be keeping tabs on you.  If Victor ever trips up, you can bet that Lucien will be there to swoop in and take his place

The professor will never love another person for as long as he lives.  That’s all there is to it.

Victor:

Throws himself into his work when you break the news to him that you’ve accepted Lucien’s proposal

“If that dummy can’t see that I’m the most suitable choice for her, then let her suffer the consequences of her foolishness.” — Victor will tell himself that, but don’t believe it for even a second

Victor has always been obsessed with working, but this is on an entirely new level, even for him: the man’s been missing meals (or taking them at his desk, at most) and doesn’t leave his office until close to midnight, most days of the week

Like a watch whose gears are irreparably damaged, the LFG CEO is broken on the inside.  He has to focus on work because he knows that if he stops long enough to fully consider the consequences of having lost you, he would never climb out of the depths of his despair

Even his dad and aunt become concerned, especially when they notice that he’s lost weight: “Victor, you have employees for a reason.  Delegation is not a weakness.”

His mind often drifts to you, especially when he’s driving.  There are many times when he finds himself absentmindedly heading in the direction of your office after work before he catches himself (the man is so used to picking you up that it’s become like muscle memory, in a sense)

Weekends will find him holed up in his attic space, fingers tracing over the uneven surface of the cup you had accidentally dropped and shattered, the pieces of which he had spent an entire night glueing back together

He shuts down Souvenir for a while: Victor cannot bring himself to step foot in the kitchen because he can’t help but see your face, smiling in rapturous joy to indulge in the caramel pudding he made especially for you

He spends his nights lying wide awake in a bed that suddenly seems much too big, wondering if you would’ve chosen differently if he took the time to tell you all the things he always thought were obvious: that he respected your fighting spirit, admired the brazen way you never gave up on the things you believed in, loved every single thing about you, even the things he seemed to disapprove of

His biggest regret: that he never had the chance to tell you that you were the love of his life

He often fantasizes about what it would’ve been like to stop time before you informed him you were choosing Lucien, to exist forever with you in a single moment when you made him the happiest man alive just by sharing your time with him

He still checks your Moments account religiously, murmuring “Dummy” with the faintest hint of a smile on his face to see your ridiculous posts, but he can never bring himself to reply.  Victor’s pride won’t let him.  He would rather die than let you know that each moment spent without you makes him feel like he is suffocating

Eventually, his worried family — especially his aunt — decides that enough is enough.  They force Victor to take a vacation while trying to discreetly set him up with daughters of other wealthy and prominent families

Victor is beyond annoyed at having his personal affairs meddled with like this, but is essentially strong-armed by his aunt, who turns on the waterworks and starts sobbing about wanting to see the progeny of her dearest nephew before she passes on or withers away from want of new blood in the Li family

Victor will eventually have to marry and have kids — he needs to have someone to pass LFG on to.  It will be a long while before he does settle down though; at one point, it’ll seem like he’s content to be a bachelor for life, married to his work

He will show up for your wedding though, and you can bet the most generous gift will be from the LFG CEO

“Try not to be such a dummy from now on.  I won’t be there to set you straight and your husband may not be as patient of a man as I am.”  Those jet black eyes are wavering with emotion when he reaches out to lay a hand on your head.  But he halts midway, awkwardly pulling back because he’s realized that he doesn’t have the right to touch another man’s wife so casually 😭😭😭

Kiro:

“Ahahaha!  All right, all right…you’ve got me.  You can stop playing around now, Miss Chips,” Kiro will say, hands held up in defeat when you tell him that you’ve accepted Gavin’s proposal

When he realizes you’re being serious, it’s like all the warmth and light has suddenly been sucked from the room

Those blue eyes go wide, the smile dropping from the superstar’s face.  For what seems like an interminable amount of time, Kiro just sits there staring at you, almost catatonic

When he speaks again, you’re so surprised you almost jump out of your skin: “Gavin…he’s that cop, right?  The friend you’ve known since high school?”

You nod and all of a sudden, it’s like the floodgates have been opened: Kiro’s grasping your hands in his, expression panic-stricken as his questions come a mile a minute:

“Was it something I did, Miss Chips?  I swear I’ll change!  I…I won’t eat junk food anymore!  Won’t even look at that stuff!  If you don’t like your nickname, I’ll call you by your real name, anything you want!  Or maybe it’s because my schedule is always so crazy?  I’ll cut back on my jobs, I don’t care about the money!  If you’re tired of running from the paparazzi, I’ll quit.  Just quit, stop everything — I don’t care, ok?  The only thing I care about is you!  Miss Chips?  Please don’t cry…I’m your hero, remember?  So please…please…”

A single tear rolls down his cheek — you have to look away or else your resolve would crumble

“I’m so sorry, Kiro.  I…I wanted you to be the first to know.  I wanted you to hear it from me…”

It’s like all the life has been drained from him; it actually frightens you to see him like that

“Kiro?"  You hesitantly lay a hand on his.  It’s almost cool to the touch.  Kiro gives his head a little shake, seeming to come back to himself

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Miss Chips.  I don’t know what came over me.  I didn’t mean to get hysterical.  God, what an awful way to react….”  He forces a laugh, but it is wooden and so goddamn heartbreaking to hear.  You almost wish he would scream obscenities at you instead

“He, Gavin…he’s a good man.  He’ll be good for you.  I’m happy that you’re happy, Miss Chips.”

The next day, Kiro drops off the face of the Earth: he’s MIA, no one can reach him

Everyone is panicking: his agent, Savin, and management, his legions of adoring fans all over the world, and most of all, you

That is, until he sends two text messages, one to Savin and the other to you, telling you all that he’s safe and not to worry; he’s just taking some time to work some things out for himself

In actuality, the only thing that’s happening is that Kiro is reverting back to who he originally was before you came into his life

His sun has been eclipsed by crushing sorrow and loss, the brilliance of your light and warmth forever taken from him and he is left in the cold shadow of solitary darkness

Kiro wants to be happy for you, and he hates that he can’t — this dissonance so disconcerts him that he’d rather not feel anything at all

When the superstar does eventually return to the world at large, there’s something about him that’s changed — Savin and the rest will be largely fooled by that ever-cheerful mask he puts on, but you won’t

Those blue eyes seem just a bit darker, the radiance of his being almost imperceptibly dimmed

Poor Kiro, loved the world over, would never love another person for the rest of his life.  It would always be you or nothing.

Shaw:

Hurt.  Angry.  Confused.

Shaw is angry with himself for ever believing that you and him had a future together; he hates that he saw the signs that you would always, always, always choose Gavin in the end and still continued to lie to himself in spite of it

He hates that he let himself become vulnerable by falling in love with you (Shaw sees vulnerability as the biggest weakness one could have, that’s why he’s always kept himself emotionally guarded in his dealings with people)

But for whatever reason, when it came to you, he just couldn’t help but fall (“Guess brothers are hard-wired in the same way after all, no matter how different we think we are,” he’ll say with a bitter laugh)

A lengthy and most unusual storm will hit Loveland City; expect an extended light show with lots of thunder and lightning

The boy is trashing his place, throwing whatever he can get his hands on: cans of Coke and Pepsi, dishes, clothing and books

He breaks the deck of his skateboard when he smashes it against the wall, bringing down a good chunk of plaster along with it

You won’t be there to witness the destruction.  Shaw will continue to front like nothing could ever faze him when you tell him that you’ve chosen to be with Gavin.  He’ll chuckle, brows raised as he bites on the tip of his straw, saying, “Whatever.  It’s your life.  Do what you want with it.”

Then suddenly, he’s standing up to leave, hand half-raised in goodbye as he makes for the exit without so much as a glance back at you.  

“Take my umbrella.  And don’t worry about returning it.”  

Those are his last words to you.  Not long after, you spy the handle of the black umbrella sitting in the stand near the front of the café (the only one there, since it had been bright and sunny out).  And suddenly, the clouds are rolling in to blanket Loveland City in grey, sheets of rain pouring from a sky cracked in half by a fearsome bolt of lightning

Shaw walks, letting cold rain soak him to the bones to take his mind off the ice that’s already started to freeze the blood in his heart

“Don’t cry…don’t let them f*cking see you cry…" he's saying to himself, over and over again like a mantra

Starts hanging out at the Live House more than ever, losing himself in the music and packed crowds there; he can’t stand to be alone right now.

When he’s not playing bass guitar as a last minute backup for the bands, he’s literally working on his thesis at the bar, sipping on his Coke and Pepsi blend (the staff know him so well that they’re pretty much cool with him doing anything at this point LOL)

STILL blows off every person who comes to proposition him for a good time

I’m sorry, but you know it’s pretty much gonna rain on your wedding day, right?  (The poor boy can’t help it, okay?  He is SAD, SAD, SAD!)

Much like his brother, Shaw will never really get over you.  You were, after all, the first person he ever truly loved

Would likely remain an eternal bachelor, only engaging in meaningless sex but never opening his heart to anyone ever again.  One lesson was enough for him. 😭😭😭

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Thank you so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

[fanficimagery]

‘Cause We’re Gonna Be Legends; pt. 1

Summary: Imagine wandering the Boardwalk with your friends. A group of boys catch their attention and while your friends are doing everything to catch their attention in return, they are apparently more interested in the oblivious girl of the bunch who doesn't care to bat her eyelashes at them. You. [Part One]

GIF courtesy of @daebom + Original GIF Post

Words: 6.5K Warnings: I have no idea what this is. I wanted just a quick little scene where the boys are taking care of a sick S/O and it turned into this. Fml. Sorry for their OOC-ness.

With summer officially here, your girl friends are more than ready to prowl the boardwalk in their skimpiest of outfits. Out of the five of you, you were the only one who preferred to actually be covered up. You didn't care to flash any skin if you weren't soaking up the rays on the beach and your friends didn't care to attempt any makeover since it was less competition for them.

And really, there was no competition at all. You were a little on the short side whereas your friends were all long-legged, thin beauties. You honestly wouldn't be surprised if a couple of them ended up in a magazine, that's how pretty they were. But you were comfortable in your own skin and didn't mind the attention being on them. In fact, you preferred to be in the background and watch your friends do whatever it is they pleased. You were content to witness and laugh at their antics, and then be grateful you were the only one without regrets or a killer hangover the following day.

You were the only one out of your friend group to live alone, so it was really no surprise your house became ground zero for getting ready for a night out. And after making sure the girls had picked up after themselves, we're not animals, ladies!, you piled into one car and sped off.

"So what's the plan?" Emily asks, already twirling a piece of her blonde hair around a finger as she eyes a couple of tourists walking by. She winks when they give her a double take. "If we're scoping out some boys, I can't mess up my hair on any of the rides."

Rolling your eyes, you let the girls pass you up and then walk behind them as they figure out what the night is going to entail. Booth after booth, each working individual calls out in order to grab your group's attention in order to play their game or buy their merchandise.

"Hold it." Ruby practically flings her arms out at her sides, stalling Jessica and Becca. "The boys are all alone and ripe for the picking."

Mentally chuckling, you let your girls ogle them from afar and then quickly fix themselves up. The boys in question are four bikers that basically run the boardwalk. David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul. Ever since your girls had realized what babes the rebels actually were, they'd made it their mission to nab each one for a night of fun. But for as long as you've seen them prowling the boardwalk, not once had you caught them all alone. Not until tonight.

Ruby, all dark hair and red painted lips, takes the lead in all her sultry glory. Emily and Jessica follow, their heels clicking against the wooden boardwalk as they giggle back and forth to each other, and Becca- coy, innocent looking Becca- brings up the rear. For some reason, Becca was the one who had the highest chance of bringing in their targets.

You stay several feet behind them, chuckling when Becca glances over her shoulder and wrinkles her nose cutely at the one you've come to know as Marko. When he elbows Paul and Paul wolf whistles, you know the girls have them hook, line, and sinker. "Every time," you mumble, shaking your head in amusement.

As you're passing up the boys, something makes you look in their direction. Paul and Marko are calling out rather suggestive comments to your friends, but David and Dwayne are both staring at you. Your small smile briefly falters at the intensity of their stares, but you're quick to shake off the odd feeling you were suddenly overwhelmed with. Instead, you timidly nod in greeting before quickly looking forward once more to catch up to your girls.

"Oh my god. Do you hear them?!" Jessica gushes, her red hair framing her face in waves. "Tonight's the night, girls. I can feel it."

"Keys," you immediately say, holding a hand out. "You girls do you, but I am not letting you assholes abandon me if you get lucky." Emily smirks, readily handing over the keys. "And if you strike out, I'll be heading back towards the car around midnight. Wait around for me or catch a ride home. If I get to the car and no one is there, I'll sit around for thirty minutes before calling it a night and then you're shit out of luck. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mom," all four of your friends muse.

"Good. Now go have fun," you say, shooing them away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"But you wouldn't do anything," Ruby mockingly pouts. "And we want to do everything."

"Of course you do," you sigh. "You girls are my favorite sluts after all. Now go before I decide to lecture you instead."

All four girls cackle before taking a path back towards the way they came, intent on catching the boys' attention once more in hopes of drawing them in. You shake your head at them as they disappear and set off to hit up a few particular booths. You've got some spending cash on you and you plan to buy yourself a few things you'd been eyeing for almost a month now.

Wandering the boardwalk, you dodge some rambunctious teens and slide past the more unsavory individuals of Santa Carla. You manage to find some of the t-shirts you'd been wanting and even a few patches to add to your bag back home. Then after snagging yourself a Cola, you walk over to a table and take a seat to do some people watching. You waste some time doing just that, smiling hesitantly when you accidentally catch a gaze or three.

You haven't seen your friends or the boys, so you figure they actually did get lucky. But it was still a little too early for your liking, so you bought tickets for some of the rides. You got on the Ferris Wheel, riding solo and enjoying the peace of the night. On the Tilt-O-Whirl you partnered up with a little girl who'd been nervous to ride alone and her mother had been grateful for it. In fact she had been so grateful that she asked if you were with someone because her little girl wanted to get on the roller coaster, but didn't want to do so alone. And since you weren't busy at all, you made the kid's night by making sure she didn't have to ride alone after jogging real quick back to the car to drop off your purchases.

By the time the mother/daughter duo were done for the night, you wanted one last ride on the carousel before calling it a night for yourself. So after ripping off the exact amount of tickets you'd need for two rides on the carousel, you then handed the rest to a couple of teens who were still having the time of their lives.

You told the carousel operator you'd be going around twice and since you've done this numerous times he nodded to let you know he understood. And though you really want to sit atop of one of the horses, you're alone and don't want to look like a complete idiot. So choosing one of the sleigh seats, you sit with your back against the arm rest and stretch your legs out across the seat so no one dares sit with you.

The carousel music starts before the ride starts to slowly spin and you settle in. You don't know what it is about this particular ride, but it's soothing to you and you tiredly smile at everyone around you who are giggling and enjoying themselves. The ride spins for a couple of minutes before slowing to a complete stop and letting off the riders in order to make room for the next batch. But you remain seated, one arm draped along the backrest of the seat and the other along the arm rest as you twist your upper torso just so. You let your head fall back, eyes closing for a few seconds as the carousel rocks from the people jumping on and off.

Suddenly your legs are being lifted and then dropped into what obviously feels like someone's lap, and you lift your head quickly, ready to tell someone off. But your anger quickly fades into shock at the sight of a familiar blonde who is now laughing at your gaping expression. Paul. Someone looms over you just to your left, behind the sleight seat, and you barely manage to suppress a squeak at the stoic looking Dwayne. His dark eyes sparkle, but his expression remains neutral. Marko is behind Paul, draped over a horse as he smirks and wiggles his fingers in a childish wave.

"Wha-" Fingers caress your right cheek from behind, sliding towards your ear to tuck some loose hair behind there. You flinch and then glance over your shoulder. David's blue eyes are intense as he stares down at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Um. Hi?" You wonder, rubbing at your cheek with your shoulder. You move to take your legs out of Paul's lap, but he lays an arm over your thighs to keep you in place. He grins and you sigh. "What do you want?"

"Can't a couple of guys be friendly, chica?"

"Sure, but you guys aren't known for exactly being friendly. Are you, Paul?"

Marko ooh's as Paul's grin widens, but it's the voice above you that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well now you have us at unfair advantage, sweetheart. You seem to know us, but we have no idea who you are."

The carousel music starts and the ride starts to spin again. You tilt your head backwards so you're staring at David upside down. "Because that's the way I prefer it." His expression briefly falters and you slowly grin at him. "But since you've now been acquainted with my girls, I'm assuming it's only a matter of time before they drag you to my house or try to get us all to hang out. So in that case, I'm Y/N."

"Your girls, huh?" David drawls. "Then why weren't you with them when they attempted to get us alone under the boardwalk?"

You snort. Of course they'd jump straight to sexing them up.

"Yeah, girl, why not? You'd have probably made for better company."

Your eyes subtly widen as you then quickly give Paul your attention. "Better company? You've got to be joking. They're the definition of everyone's type!"

"And what about you?"

You briefly falter. "What about me? I'm just- I'm the mom friend." You shrug. "But instead of making sure they're behaving, I send my little horndogs off to have fun and make sure they have a ride home at the end of the night if they need it."

"Now that doesn't seem fair at all." The back of David's knuckles runs along your cheek and you move out of reach. The other two blondes chuckle. "Your friends were great and all, but they lacked a little.. something."

Dwayne huffs. "Yeah. A brain."

"Hey!" You frown up at the brunette, fighting off a smile because as much as you loved your friends you knew they were a little sidetracked when sex was on the brain. Your shoulders slump and you sigh. "At least tell me you let them down easy? They've been trying to get you all in the sack for weeks."

Paul smirks. "We know."

The carousel comes to a stop and as you move to get up, the boys don't let you go far. David smirks and takes the lead, and Paul immediately slings arm around your shoulders to make you follow him. Marko saunters at your other side and Dwayne is only a step behind you.

"That dark haired one was a bit mean," Marko suddenly says. "Ruby I think her name was?"

"Yeah." You grimace. "Ruby and Becca are the dark haired ones, but Becca does just fine with rejection. She'll laugh it off and still consider you a friend. You guys are lucky Ruby and Jessica weren't drunk. They're mean when they don't get what they want."

Paul laughs and squeezes you closer to his side. "Dwayne and David held their own just fine. And besides, your girls found another group to entertain themselves with."

"Oh good. At least now I don't have to hear them complain about not being di-" You pause, staring at the motorcycles they've led you to. "Leaving so soon? I figured you boys were the type to stay up all night."

David smirks as he straddles his bike. "We are."

"What do you say, chica? Wanna go for a ride?" Paul jostles you before letting you go, only to hop on his own bike. Dwayne and Marko are much calmer as they straddle theirs, though Marko joins Paul in practically bouncing in his seat.

You gulp and slowly inch backward. "Uh, raincheck? I was actually about to head home after riding the carousel."

"Boo. Live a little," Paul says. "Have some of that spirit you were friends were showing us earlier."

Your smile dims just a little at being compared to them, but you quickly squash the feeling. "Sorry, bub. If you wanted a good time, you were better off with the girls." You take a few steps backward, shrugging. "I'll see you around. My bed's calling my name."

Paul and Marko do their best to keep you with them just a little bit longer, but Dwayne and David watch you go with carefully guarded expressions.

Ever since you were introduced to the boys, it seemed like they were suddenly everywhere at the boardwalk. The girls didn't take their rejection personally, so it was only a matter of time before they realized that at least one of them had caught and held the boys' attention.

The girls left you alone to pursue a hopeful one night stand? The boys would find you and make sure you had a fun night yourself.

You trailed after your friends who were clutching onto someone's arm as they were won prize after prize? Marko would show up out of the blue with a prize half your size and a smug smirk when the girls would gape at his sudden appearance and disappearance.

Your friends chose the wrong crowd to hang out with? David, Dwayne, and Marko were immediately there to deal with the situation if you or your girls couldn't handle it yourselves.

Paul would endlessly flirt whenever your group would pass by, but the comments and stares were now directed at you.

Their attention solely on you didn't go unnoticed and your girls couldn't be more ecstatic for you. Normally you'd glare and reject any flirtations with a roll of your eyes, but day by day the boys wore you down to the point you'd laugh and smile at their antics. The girls were under the impression something was going on, but to you the boys were just annoyingly passing the time.

However, you couldn't help but notice how David watched you like a hawk to make sure no one was giving you a hard time. Dwayne would stand as close as possible without touching and didn't particularly like when other boys attempted to catch your attention. Marko liked to drag you onto rides and was always the one to offer dinner, and Paul liked to touch to see exactly where on your body was accessible to him. He was the most handsy of the four and thought it was hilarious when you'd punch him if he touched any spot you were ticklish. Lately though he took to slipping a hand in your back pocket when you least expected it and kissing your cheek when you yelped in surprise before running off.

Your friends were adamant that the boys were seriously into you, but you weren't so sure. They still looked and flirted with various females that crossed their paths, even as you sat there next to them and watched on in amusement.

They were the best looking guys you'd seen in Santa Carla, so surely they couldn't be interested in you like your girls kept saying they were.

Being sick is a rare occurrence, but being so sick that you're flat out miserable is even rarer. You're normally good at taking care of yourself and getting back into tip-top shape in no time, but the flu is really kicking your ass this time around. It also doesn't help that the AC's working to keep your apartment cool aren't doing that well of a job. Well they are, but your body is doing it's best to sweat the virus out of itself and you're just plain miserable.

With your hair tied up in a loose bun to keep it off the back of your neck, you've been so overly heated that you opted to lounge around in a sports bra and a pair of cotton shorts that you normally just sleep in because they're so small. But here you are, laid up in bed as you watch TV.

There's a knock on your front door and you groan, not wanting to get up and greet anyone. And besides, all your friends knew you were sick so they were staying away. A minute passes and then another, more urgent knock sounds. You groan again, but get up to find out who's disturbing you when all you want is to be left alone.

Stumbling through the hallway and living room, you make it to the front door just as a third knock sounds.

"What?" You grumble after yanking open the door. Four familiar boys stare right back at you, two of those gazes immediately dropping to take in all the skin on display. Dwayne frowns at you, but there's a- dare you say it?- spark of concern in David's expression.

"You weren't on the boardwalk," David says. "Becca told us where we could find you."

You wrinkle your nose at him. "Did she also tell you I was sick and in no shape for visitors?"

"Oh, babe." Paul leers. "You're in the best shape. Is this," he gestures to your body, "what you've been hiding under those band tees and plaid shirts?"

"I hate you," you deadpan. Marko cackles and even Dwayne's lips twitch in amusement. You smile tiredly, but then grimace in pain. "Guys, I'm gross, I'm tired, and I'm miserable. You know exactly where I'm at now, so can I please crawl back into my bed and die in peace? Yes? Okay, bye."

David's hand stops the door from entirely closing on them. You groan and whimper, moments away from just crying with how miserable you feel. The door swings back open and the back of David's hand is immediately on your forehead. Automatically you swat him away, but then realize a moment later that it actually felt good. He was cold.

"When was the last time you took medicine?" David wonders, smirking when you grab his hand and hold it to your cheek next.

You hum as you sigh in relief. "Medicine? What's that?" You attempt to joke. When you meet his no-nonsense expression, you frown and reluctantly drop his hand. "I either pay for food and medicine or pay to keep a roof over my head. Guess which one I prioritized."

David glances over his shoulder, and Paul and Marko stare at him before taking off without a word. You frown as you watch them go, but then David and Dwayne are pushing their way into your apartment. "You're running too hot," David tells you. "You need to cool off. Now."

"I know that, dad, but I literally can't stand for too long. You're lucky I'm even still standing right now." Without warning, a now jacket-less Dwayne picks you up with one arm behind your shoulders and the other under your knees. You yelp as your hands settle on his shoulder, but when you realize his body is as cold as David's hand felt, you melt. "Oh. Oh that's nice." Dwayne chuckles and David smirks behind his back, and you lay your head on his shoulder before nuzzling in towards the crook of his neck. "If any of you get sick, it's your fault. You should have left when you had the chance."

"Don't worry about us." Dwayne's voice is low, his chest rumbling as he talks. "We don't get sick."

"Mhm. You say that now." Dwayne lowers you gently onto your bed and you raise an eyebrow at him as he climbs in next to you. You gulp as he then lays down and stretches his arm out, and you take it as an invite to drape your upper half across his chest. He curls one arm beneath his head and the other around your back, and it takes everything in you to not completely wrap yourself around him. "God you feel so good," you mumble as you let your eyes fall shut.

David chuckles. "I don't think any of us have heard that without-"

"Shush!" You feel the bed dip behind you, but are too comfortable to move and look at him. "I just replayed that in my head and realized how it sounded. Don't tell Paul."

Both boys chuckle, but then quiet down after a few seconds. You sigh as your body finally relaxes and you moan quietly when Dwayne starts to run his fingers up and down your spine. He's abnormally cold, but right now you don't give a damn because he feels great against your feverish body.

"You need to take better care of yourself," David says. "You look out for those girls of yours all the time, so the least they could do is return the favor."

"As much as they like to appear independent, they're not," you mumble. "Medicine is expensive and I'm not about to put that on my friends or their parents. I can handle a week of being sick. It's fine."

"Is it?" Dwayne drawls. "You're awfully clingy for a sick person."

"I'm sick, you assholes. Baby me."

They find amusement in your whining and Dwayne squeezes you a little tighter. But David continues to talk. "So all your friends live with their parents, except for you. Why is that?"

"We're estranged," you say. "Lived with my aunt and got a job as soon as I was able to. Then I graduated and moved out with the cash I saved."

"You still talk to this aunt?"

"No. We kept in contact for a few months, but then we each got our own lives. The only people I have are the girls."

"And us," Dwayne rumbles. "You have us."

"You're adorable. Now shush. Watch TV and let me sleep."

David and Dwayne finally go quiet then, but you know they've listened because the TV volume lowers and you can hear the channels changing. They settle on some program and you can finally feel yourself drifting off into a promising sleep.

It's apparently not a deep sleep because semi-loud noises startle you awake once more. When you lift your head to stare around the room, Marko is frozen next to Dwayne as he shows him a couple different boxes of medicine. You blink at him and then stare towards the end of the bed where Paul's eyes are directed to one spot, and one spot only.

"Damn, girl. You should wear these shorts more often." Of course he's staring at your ass. "Are you wearing underwear because if you lift your leg just a little bit higher-"

"Paul!" You snort and then grimace in pain, lowering your head back onto Dwayne's chest. "I have on underwear, okay? You're not gonna get a peek at the goods no matter how hard you stare."

"Bummer." He then holds up a brown paper bag, his gaze meeting yours. "Got some chicken soup and crackers for you. Sit up so you can eat and then take the medicine."

"What?" You're surprised they got you both food and medicine, and slowly move to sit up against the headboard. Dwayne follows, and soon enough you're sitting between both Dwayne and David in your bed. "I was only joking when I said to baby me."

"Yeah? Well too bad," David says. "You need to break your fever. Now eat a little something, shower, and then take the fever reducer."

David seems actually pretty serious about this, so after holding his gaze for a moment too long you give in. You don't mention you actually hate eating in bed and watch on in mild amusement as Dwayne and Marko juggle the now opened soup container and a sleeve of crackers while trying to figure out a way to hand it all to you without spilling anything.

"There's a lap tray under the sink in the kitchen." You take pity on Marko and his shoulders sag in relief. "And can you bring me a glass of water?" Marko does quick work of retrieving what you've asked for and then you're stretching out your legs in front of you as Dwayne sets everything up in your lap for you. You sigh as you take hold of the plastic spoon to scoop up the first mouthful and pray your stomach doesn't revolt while the boys are with you. When you take the first bite and quietly groan at the taste, your gaze darts around to the four boys who are staring at you. "Please do something other than watch me eat. This is weird."

Paul immediately pushes off your dresser to start rummaging through your drawers, Marko busies himself with your bookshelf, David starts channel surfing, and when you glance at Dwayne he has his eyes closed. Paul's a little overexcited and you can't find it in you to reprimand him because you did tell him to do something.

You eat slow, nibbling on a cracker here and there between spoonfuls of chicken broth and noodles. David even steals a cracker or two, but his gaze never leaves the TV so he never sees you grin every time he does it.

"Hey. Sick patch," Marko suddenly muses. "Where'd you get it?" In his hand is the patch depicting a skeleton mid-headbang, his skeletal hand showing the sign of the horns.

"It was a gift," you tell him, smiling fondly. "A while back I ran into a little girl who was scared to get on rides alone, so I rode with her for about an hour. Her mother was really grateful and I ran into them again a couple days later on the boardwalk. They saw my bag, the girl fell in love with all the patches, and she conned her mom into buying me a new one to show her thanks." Marko's interest is suddenly piqued and you can see him subtly glancing around. And given his own love of patches, you guess he's looking for your bag. "My bag's in the closet."

Paul joins Marko at your closet then and you finally lean back against your headboard, done with eating. Dwayne takes the tray off your lap to take into the kitchen, but you keep your glass of water to sip. You smile when Marko finds your bag, commenting on the patchwork and about a few patches he hadn't seen before.

"You feeling strong enough to stand in the shower?"

You look over at David, who's more than at ease lounging in your bed, and shrug. "Only one way to find out." You hand him your glass of water and crawl out through the spot Dwayne had vacated. Standing on shaky legs, you hesitantly walk back and forth, and then grin up at David. "Yeah. I should be fine."

He nods. "Take the medicine now, then after you shower you can relax."

From the corner of your eye you see Paul make a beeline for your dresser. "Oh I know the perfect outfit."

"Out of the underwear drawer, you d-hole!" Dwayne re-enters the room, smacking Paul upside the head and shutting the drawer he had just opened. You smile at him in thanks and then quietly chuckle at the blonde's pout. "If you calm down and stop looking at me like that, you can pick out a fresh set of exactly what I'm wearing. And yes that includes the underwear." He perks up at that and you roll your eyes. "Top drawer for the underwear, second for the sports bra, and the very bottom for pajama shorts." As Paul takes his time choosing the perfect underwear, you glance back at Marko who's caressing a few patches on your bag. You sigh. "Hey, Marko. There's a shoe box at the top of my closet to the right. It's filled with patches. Have fun choosing the five you want." Immediately your bag is dropped and he's reaching for the shelf inside your closet.

"You know you just made their night's, right?" Dwayne asks. When you glance at him, you're surprised to see he had your first dose of medicine ready for you to take.

"I needed to get rid of some patches and I have a feeling Paul would end up in my underwear drawer the second the shower turned on, so.." You take the medicine from him, tossing two pills into your mouth and swallowing them down with a mouthful of water.

Dwayne nods and then lowers his voice. "Is there anywhere in particular you want Paul to stay out of?" You're about to tell him no, but then your eyes unwillingly dart to your bedside drawer. You gulp, your face flames, and you pray your face is already red from fever otherwise Dwayne is going to know exactly what you're hiding. When you meet his amused gaze and small smirk, you quietly groan. He definitely knows. "Got it," he says rather than teasing you about it.

Clothes are then shoved into your hands and Paul winks at you. "Your selection of underwear is phenomenal. I did not expect all that lace."

You don't bother with a reply and head out into the hall as he snickers at your back, taking a left to the bathroom. Once you're hidden behind the closed door, you turn the water on cool in the shower and then allow yourself to just breathe. It's been a while since anyone bothered to actually look after you and now having four boys, who are insanely attractive in their own ways, take up that job is a little mind boggling. But before you can think anymore on it and what their motives could be, if they had any, your back twinges in pain and you start to undress.

You're not sure how long you actually take in the shower, but you know it must've been quite some time in order for Marko to knock on the door and ask if everything was okay. A couple minutes after that you finally exit the shower, slowly dressing and doing your best to towel dry your hair. Giving up, you walk out and make your way back into your bedroom.

The boys have dragged chairs into your room, only one of them now lounging in bed. Paul has shed his jacket and boots, stretched out in your bed with both hands tucked beneath his head and ankles crossed. He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you huff a brief laugh.

"Better?" David asks.

Shrugging, you look towards him. "I don't feel so gross now, but I'm still sleepy."

"Then sleep. We'll wake you in four hours for your next dose of medicine and then leave after that."

You open your mouth to argue, but his deadpan expression lets you know it's pointless to argue. So just going with the flow, you shrug and toss your towel into the corner hamper. Crawling into bed, you tiredly grin at Paul who's likely hoping for you to cuddle up to him like you did to Dwayne. But your hair is damp, so instead you settle next to him. He dramatically gasps, but you sit there to gather your hair in hand before twisting it into an untied bun and then lay down on it so it's not all over the place.

"Well then fine," Paul huffs. "I'll just cuddle you instead."

Already knowing he means it, you lay your arm out in invitation. He's so much larger than you, however, that he opts to lay on his stomach directly next to you. His right arm drapes over your stomach and tucks beneath your waist, and his face nestles in the crook of your neck. You freeze, especially when you can feel hot breath against your skin, and only relax when he seems to be behaving. "This is not how friends cuddle," you mumble, "but you're so cold I don't even care."

David and Dwayne both smirk, and Marko hides his amusement behind a fist as he chews on his thumbnail. "Good." Paul's voice is muffled against your neck. "Because we've been trying for days, weeks if I'm honest, to get you to notice we're trying to be more than just your friends."

"W-What?" You squeak. Your heart immediately starts to pound and you're suddenly self conscious about the way Paul is wrapped around you.

"We were sure you'd have noticed by now or your girls would have said something," Marko says.

"I- I mean they have," you stammer, "but.. what? Why? I'm not- I'm just.."

"You're different," Dwayne says. You blink in surprise at him. "You noticed us, but you didn't throw yourself at us."

"You also weren't intimidated by us, so that was a plus." Marko perks up in his chair. "Have you really not noticed? I mean Paul started groping you and Dwayne glared at that one guy who asked for your number until he walked off."

"Yeah, but that's just Paul. He flirts with anything that has a heartbeat." The three boys chuckle at your still astonished expression and Paul nuzzles your neck with a hum. He doesn't deny it. "And Dwayne.. I kind of guessed he was into me," you frown, "but I convinced myself that his actions were of the protective brother sort."

"Oh he was protective alright. Just not brotherly." Paul's lips and breath so close to your neck makes you shiver, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the others. Paul too if him pulling you ever closer to his body is any indication. The tip of his nose runs along your neck and you find yourself subconsciously tilting your head to the side. "Even sick you smell so good."

Dwayne, David, and Marko all tense, their gazes darting to where Paul's face is hidden. You chuckle nervously, trying to push him away with your head, only to quietly moan when you feel the flat of his tongue sweep across your skin.

"Paul!" David barks.

Startling, you get your wits about you and push Paul away. He looks a little dazed when he glances around and then offers you a sheepish smile. "O-Okay," you shakily say, "out. Your cuddling privileges are over for the night."

"Aw. Come on, babe."

"Nope. I'm too sick for that right now."

Marko laughs as Paul slinks out of the bed and then quickly takes up the vacated spot for himself. He ends up almost in the exact position, only his head lands on your chest and his arm wraps around the tops of your thighs so his hand is tucked beneath your legs. You sigh as his cold skin cools off yours.

Marko lasts exactly eleven minutes before the hand under your thigh shifts upward to your butt and squeezes. You sigh and poke his shoulder. "Out. You're as bad as Paul." He laughs, not even bothering to deny it.

Paul and Marko high five one another, and you frown as you attempt to shift into a more comfortable position. You watch Dwayne with suspicious eyes as he slides into bed once more, but then give him the benefit of the doubt when he lets you cuddle up to him instead. Once you're comfortable with your head on his chest and arm over his stomach, you're finally able to fall asleep once more when his hand settles in your hair instead of somewhere on your own body.

The next time you're woken up it's because you feel a little overheated once again. You groan as you stretch out and realize a moment later you're not cuddled up to anyone. Frowning, you also realize that there's a black coat covering you. You shove the coat down towards your lap and glance around your room, only to find David staring at you in amusement from the edge of your bed.

"Sleep well?"

"Mhm. This yours?" You ask, gesturing to the coat. He smiles and nods. "Where is everyone?"

"We need to get going." You sit up and notice then that he's got your next dose of medicine waiting for you, and a glass of water. "We'll be busy later tonight, but we'll be back tomorrow evening. Keep taking your medicine and we'll see you soon."

After David hands you the medicine and water, he stands to pull on his coat. You slide out of bed to stand in front of him and nervously shift from foot to foot. "Thank you," you mumble. "For everything."

"Don't mention it, sweetheart." David raises his hand, fingertips caressing your cheek before tucking what no doubt is wild hair behind your ear. You grimace and then reach up to smooth it down yourself. "Listen. About earlier, the boys might have crossed a line. You're sick and we kind of dropped a bomb on you about all four of us being interested in you."

"Oh." You will yourself to not blush. "I, um, it's fine. It's kind of shocking, but I'm actually-"

"Interested?" David raises an eyebrow at you.

You shrug. "Who wouldn't be? But you guys seriously picked the worst time to bluntly tell me you liked me."

"You were taking too long to catch on."

You shake your head in amusement at him. "Fair enough." Sighing, you then nod towards your door. "I'll walk you out."

"It's fine. You get back into bed." His hand raises and latches onto the back of your neck, and he brings you so his cold lips press to your feverish forehead. "We'll be back before you know it." Then without another word, David whirls around and exits your bedroom.

A few moments later and you can hear your front door opening and closing. You're left blinking at nothing but thin air and when you notice it's just after three in the morning, you numbly crawl back into bed. The entire night, the parts where you were awake, had been nuts and you can't help but attempt to go over every interaction you've ever had with the boys. You try to pinpoint exactly when their friendly interactions turned into something more, but a sudden throb behind your eyes has you groaning.

Tomorrow. You'll figure it out tomorrow.

[ari-writes-hq]

Unlucky Days and Back Scratches

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bokuto x Fem! Fiancée! Reader

Summary: Bokuto has a really bad day and just wants to be in the arms of his love

Words: 2,476

Warnings: Bokuto has a bad day (he's accident prone), fluffy fluff, and some grammar errors maybe?

A/N: I'm genuinely terrified to post this for it is my very first fan fic (that I started and finished and it took me 3 days to do so too). I'm honestly getting the confidence to post it because it's 12:20 am and @toru-oikawas-milkbread. Please be nice to me and I hope that ya'll enjoy <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a very, very, very long and rough day for Bokuto Kōtarō. It first started when he had accidentally overslept, due to staying up late into the night making love to his beloved girlfriend-turned-fiancée and had completely forgotten the early start that Meian had scheduled for the team, he was late to practice by nearly three hours. On top of that, “Silent Mode” was turned on on his phone as well, so he didn’t hear the mass messages and calls from his various teammates.

Aside from waking up late, Bokuto struggled leaving the house. How could he leave his long term girlfriend of nearly four years who had just agreed to marry him, and someone who doubled up as his best friend, all alone in their big apartment? The beefy 6’2 male just wanted to stay home and wrap himself around his woman who slept peacefully next to him in all her naked glory. If she had been clothed, Bokuto probably would have only been an hour late to practice. He doesn’t regret it though, he knows that he’s going to end up staying late to make up for the time that he had lost.

When Bokuto finally made it to the MSBY building, he had tried to sneak his way to the locker rooms, but with his luck and the morning he was having, he had accidentally knocked over the janitor’s broom and mop that had been leaning up against the wall. Quickly, his coach and teammates, who were having a small discussion of what to work on next, whip their heads towards the noise, finding a sheepish and guilty Bokuto. Within seconds, he was bombarded by his coach and teammates.

Somehow escaping their wrath, Bokuto was able to finally make it to the locker room where he struggled to open his locker. Has the code changed? Did someone switch his lock as revenge for him coming in late? About fifteen minutes later, with the help of Sakusa, who was sent in by Meian, he found out that he had just been twisting the knob the wrong way. Then, while trying to change, he realized his jersey was far too small and as he was trying to get the constricting article off, he had accidentally tripped and fell over one of the metal benches. There is now a bruise on his left shin.

During practice, and after getting a new shirt, Bokuto’s work performance seemed to lack. He kept messing up his serves. If he wasn’t hitting it, he was missing it. Then at one point he had put a little too much force into one of his spikes, causing the ball to lose control and hit one of the managers in the face, they walked away with a bloody nose. The salt and pepper haired male never truly believed in karma until now. As he was trying to receive a ball, the ball then bounced up from his upper forearms and nailed him in the face… fifteen times.

On top of that, he couldn’t get any of the new moves down. It was concerning since he was one to learn decently quickly when it came to new techniques. Meian had even questioned him about his performance loss. Bokuto had no idea, normally he was on top of his game both in practice and games. So why is he suddenly having a hard time with everything?

After practice, which ran three hours late in the night, Bokuto thought his bad luck was finally at a stand still. Outside, the sky was clear, the stars were bright, well, assuming that they were since the city lights made it impossible for anyone to see them, and there was a gentle fall breeze, so, Bokuto decided to walk home rather than message his lover, who he believed was asleep.

Not even three minutes out of the ten minute walk, rain had suddenly downpoured. Clouds rolled in, hiding the once clear sky, lightning flashed the same gold as Bokuto’s eyes, thunder rang in his ears, and the once gentle breeze suddenly became rough. If not for the rain, Bokuto’s gravity defying, black and white hair would have fallen into its dejected droop.

Why does the world hate me today? He had thought to himself as he huddled underneath a building's canopy. Quickly pulling out his phone, he had checked the time, Midnight, Y/N’s probably asleep. Maybe Akaashi? He opened his messages and pressed his old high school teammate’s name before pressing the text box and sending a quick, Akaaashi, are you still awake? Y/N dropped me off at work today and it was really really nice out when I got off so I decided to walk home instead of catching a ride but now it’s storming. I forgot my bag so I don’t have anything to protect me from the rain. Please, come save me. Satisfied with his message, he pressed “send” with a hopeful smile.

Roughly two very slow minutes passed by before Bokuto’s phone went off.

Yes, Bokuto, I am awake. I will come get you. Next time look at the weather forecast. Where are you? Was Akaashi’s reply. Bokuto grinned at his phone quickly sending him a,

Thank you, Akaashi! I’m-, Bokuto raised his golden eyes to look around his surroundings, not entirely sure where he is himself. I actually don’t know where I am. A few moments after sending the message, Bokuto’s phone lit up, an “incoming call” from the former setter. Answering it, Bokuto pressed the “speaker” button.

“Bokuto, how can you not know where you are? You know what, don’t answer that.” The male on the other side of the receiver sighs. “What are some shops and landmarks around you? Street names?” Bokuto hummed, quickly looking at his surroundings once again.

“Well, I do know I’m not too far away from the MSBY building, uh, there’s a fountain outside a res- oh wait! That’s the restaurant I proposed to Y/N last night! I’m under a… oh I forgot the name of the roof thingy,”

“A canopy?”

“Yes! That thing! I’m under one of those across from the restaurant I proposed to Y/N!”

“Good, okay. I’m on my way. Do not move from your spot, I don’t want you to get lost… again.” From the other side of the phone, Bokuto could hear his friend unlock and open his car door. “You understand?”

The former ace chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just hurry, please,” he basically whined. “I want to go home and cuddle Y/N. I miss her.” Akaashi rolled his eyes and hung up, causing Bokuto to pout down at his device. “Akaashi’s so mean.”

What seemed like an eternity, Akaashi’s car came into view. Bokuto, unsure if his friend can see him, raised his large arms and flailed them around, only stopping when the car came to a stop right next to him. Throwing the front passenger door open, Bokuto slipped into the seat and closed the door with a, “Thank you so much, Akaashi,” he put the seatbelt on. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

The dark haired man put the car in “drive”, starting his way towards the other man’s home, he replied, “Nah, you didn’t wake me up. I have my deadline coming up so I’m trying to finish everything as quickly as I can.” Bokuto nodded enthusiastically. The short car ride was filled with some talk of the past, bringing up some of their most memorable moments from high school, then, some of the talk was the two catching up, given the fact that the duo both worked two completely different jobs and have very little time to hang out anymore.

Akaashi talked about his work, telling what little he could to his friend, not wanting to spoil anything. Believe it or not, Bokuto read the little stories that Akaashi edits for his work, just because the two don’t see each other often doesn’t mean he can’t support his friend in other ways. After Akaashi, Bokuto talked about his day, how everything seemed to go wrong for him and all he wanted to do was to go home and be in his fiancée’s arms.

Soon enough, Akaashi pulls his car in front of a luxury apartment complex. Getting out with another, “thank you”, Bokuto closed the door and swiftly made his way into the building. Once Akaashi knew that his friend was inside, he drove off. The tall male was on a mission: get into the arms of his lover as quickly as possible. He knew that the moment she wrapped her arms around his body, even if he had to wake her up for it, his bad day streak would end.

Running up to the elevator, Bokuto pushed the “up” button and impatiently waited for the elevator with his thick arms crossed and a pout on his lips. Giving up with a huff, Bokuto makes his way to the stairs and runs up them, tripping at least five times and falling once. Why did I choose to live on the top floor? Y/N even said it was a bad idea. He grumbled to himself, tripping on the very last step that leads to his home.

Rushing to his front door, he removes his keys from one of his pockets and fumbles with said keys, even dropping them not once, not twice, but three times before he finally was able to unlock the door. Throwing it open, he yells, “baby, I’m home!”, as he takes off his shoes and places his keys on the hook next to the door. His golden eyes racl over the large, dark living room and the equally dark kitchen. Realizing that she is in fact not in the room, he makes his way towards their shared bedroom.

“Baby, you awake?” He slowly opens their closed bedroom door, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Y/N up if she is actually asleep. Peeking in, his eyes fall onto her body lying on his side of the bed, her back facing him. “Baby?” he whispers, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, albeit louder than intentional. This caused the girl to jump in her sleep and whine.

“Baby, you home?” she called out, turning towards the door, mind blank, not realizing and too tired to care that it could have been an intruder. The tall man hummed in confirmation and quickly started to take his clothes off, wanting nothing but to be in his lover’s arms as fast as possible. “Kou, you okay?” Y/N piped, worried as she watched the man catch his foot in his shorts and nearly face plant had he not caught himself on the edge of the bed. He launched himself onto the female.

“No, bad day,” he mumbled, face smooshed into her neck.

“Wanna talk about it?” Y/N ran her hand through his droopy salt and pepper hair. The larger man removed his body from the female’s, a pout on his lips as he sat back on his knees, Bokuto began to talk about his “unlucky day”.

Half an hour and many tangents later, he finished the detailed story of his day. Large hands reached out to Y/N and roughly, but softly, pushed her to lay flat on her back, then, Bokuto took hold of her arms and splayed them out on the bed, he did the same to her legs too. Happy with her position, Bokuto nestled himself in between her legs and covered the female with his body like a blanket.

Smooshing her cheek with his, he let out a puppy like whine. “Hold me,”. He reached his hands out to her arms and moved them around his torso. “Want you to hold me, baby, please, need it. Need you to.” Bokuto rubbed his nose against her cheek before peppering kisses down her neck and nuzzling into it. “Please, baby.” He whined more.

Chuckling softly, Y/N tightened her arms around the man and moved her head to the side to place a soft smooch on his head. “Of course, baby. Anything else you need?” Bokuto let another whine out, shifting himself so he could get closer to the woman, even though he was lying on top of her with all of his body weight. “Kō?” Bokuto mumbled into the female’s neck, although she couldn’t hear him. “Baby,” she tapped on his back. “Can’t hear you.”

The man huffed and lifted his head up, his black and white hair disheveled, golden eyes glossy, and a pout on his lips. “Scratch my back, baby, please,” he whined and dropped his head back down into the warmth of his fiancée’s neck. He wiggled in Y/N’s hold, scooching up her body so he was closer to her ear. “Pleeeeeease, baby.”

“Ask and you shall receive, my love.” Y/N’s left hand that was flat against Bokuto’s back arched into a claw. Slowly and softly, but with some pressure, she traced her nails up and down his back, or wherever he specified (the nape of his neck seemed to be his favorite spot). Every so often, Y/N would look at her ring finger to admire the pear shaped engagement ring that the male on top of her had proposed to her with the night before.

“Baby,” Bokuto lifted himself up to look at the woman. Y/N hummed, turning her head up towards him to make eye contact.

“Yes, Kō?” He had a lopsided grin on his face and gave a whiney chuckle when the girl’s nails scratched up his nape.

Bokuto moved closer to his lover’s face. “I love you,” he said confidently. “You’re the love of my life,” he nuzzled his nose into hers. “Never wanna let you go.” With that, he pressed his lips onto Y/N’s and flopped back onto her, whining and cooing into the kiss as she kept up with her ministrations. Pulling back from the kiss, he cooed into her ear, “So good to me baby. M’ safe haven. Can’t wait to marry you.”

With that, Bokuto gripped at Y/N’s sides, whining and cooing as he pulled themselves impossibly closer. Placing a small, wet kiss to her neck, Bokuto nuzzled himself back into the woman’s neck. Within the matter of minutes of Y/N scratching his back and a, “I love you too, Kō. I’ve got you, my love, you’re safe”, the love sick man fell asleep peacefully, happy, and safe in his lover’s arms, a smile on his face.

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Epilogue

cruel summer masterlist

AN: I swore to you I would have this posted before I moved, and I DID (I leave in 11 hours for my cross country drive). Sorry this took forever, I pretty much wrote... a 10k word sequel.

It seems that fate enjoys playing cosmic jokes on Rowan Whitethorn when it comes to the first day of summer.

He and Aelin were supposed to take off for Terrasen yesterday, in order to make it to opening day at the park. Then, after closing, he was going to take Aelin down to the water, beneath the docks, where they’d kissed for the first time. It was going to be perfect. Just the two of them, reunited by the water, watching the sun dip below the horizon, ready for a new summer of memories – this time to be made together. But today was a piece of shit, and everything had gone to shambles. With the app formally launching this week, Rowan’s office was in crunch mode. He tried to escape, but was held back with last minute bugs to fix. He sent Aelin off, telling her he’d meet her there as soon as he was freed from work. But before he knew it, yesterday turned into noon today. And somehow noon turned into five. And then to six. At seven, Rowan finally put his foot down and insisted he would answer any questions from the road. He’d be working remotely all summer anyway. He’d dictate code for them over the phone, if they needed. And they had. His front dash rings with an incoming call from Aelin as he speeds along the interstate, praying to the gods he doesn’t get pulled over. Although with the way his day is going, he wouldn’t be surprised. He sighs loudly in greeting.

“That bad, huh?” Aelin’s sleepy voice comes through the speakers. It’s already midnight, and he’s sure she’s about to fall asleep any second.

“I’ve had about six calls with Darrow,” Rowan sighs. He doesn’t really mind – he loves his job, and loves being part of this team. But, his boss’s perfectionist tendencies have him working long after the clock stops. “I’m so tired,” he complains. “Oh no,” Aelin coddles him. “How far away are you?” Rowan glances at his navigation. “Three hours out. If I don’t hit any more snags.” Aelin chuckles softly. “Yeah, you didn’t forget anything else important, did you?” Rowan groans, thinking of his absolute incompetence as a human. Maybe if he’d been less flustered about rushing  out of work and heading  to Terrasen, he wouldn’t have made this insane mistake. Nearly an hour on the road, Rowan realized he’d forgotten the most important item he needed this summer. Unconsciously, Rowan pats at his pants and finds the lump in his pocket easily. He swallows thickly. His entire plan would have been ruined without that tiny box. Unable to tell her what he really went back for, he lied and told Aelin he’d forgotten his wallet. She seemed to believe him, but he was now running two hours behind. He picks up his pace even more. “I miss you,” he sighs, and he can hear the crinkling of Aelin’s starchy sheets beneath her head as she rolls to her side. “You’ll have me soon enough,” she laughs. “I wish I could have you right now,” he whines, and he can hear the small hitch in Aelin’s breath before she replies. “Oh yeah? And what would you do to me?” Her voice is low and breathy, and he can’t help but groan her name in frustration. He’s been working his ass off prepping for this app launch. And with Aelin taking classes and studying for boards on top of teaching, they’ve both been far too tired to do anything but curl up in bed and sleep. Two exhausted ships passing in the night. Two exhausted, and clearly horny, ships. Rowan swears as arousal courses through his strained muscles. “Should I pull over?” he asks.

If Aelin wants help getting off through the phone, he’s not not participating. Rowan looks ahead to see when the next exit is. He’ll need to find somewhere dark and secluded fast. But Aelin hesitates, and he can practically see her flushed cheeks and wild eyes as she chews on her bottom lip as she debates her answer. “No,” she finally replies, resigned. “Just. Drive fast.” Rowan taps the accelerator a little harder, pushing his new car another few miles above the speed limit. “On it.” “Rowan?” She breathes softly into the receiver. “I don’t care how late it is, wake me up when you get here.” “Yes ma’am,” he laughs. “Love you,” she mumbles sleepily. Rowan blessedly doesn’t get pulled over, and somehow he makes up an entire hour, pulling up the long driveway to Ashryver Estate just after 2am. He turns the headlights off quickly, hoping he didn’t wake anyone. The house looks as imposing as always, its wide balconies and oversized windows glowing under the outdoor lights. But Rowan can’t help but think how different his life is from a single year ago. For one, he and Aelin will be sleeping in her room together, with the complete awareness and approval of her parents. Rowan assumed it would be weird for them to be in the house, so they rented a place of their own, but Rhoe and Evalin insisted they spend at least their first night with them. At least. He supposes when he’s been living with their daughter since last Yulemas and asked for her father’s approval of their marriage a few days later, it can’t be that weird. But still, Rowan’s excited to have their own place. Albeit. A much smaller. Less expensive place.

A large yawn rips its way from Rowan’s mouth, and he decides to leave his bag in the bag seat. He’ll get it in the morning. For now, he just wants to take off his work clothes and get into bed with Aelin.

But of course, nothing about today is easy. Rowan lifts the front mat, expecting the key beneath, but it’s missing. He checks his phone to see if Aelin told him they moved it elsewhere. But no. It’s supposed to be there for him. He reaches under a potted plant just to make sure. But still. No key. He jiggles the doorknob, hoping against all hopes that in this small beach town maybe they left the door unlocked for him. But it remains unmovable. Shit. The gods truly are against him. Rowan flicks his cellphone light on, searching the small path that leads to the backyard. Thorns from the overgrown rose bushes scrape his arms, and he hisses as one catches his skin. Fuck this day. Once he makes it safely to the back patio, he attempts the sliding door, but of course, it is locked, too. Rowan glances at the rose trellis, leading up to the second floor balcony he knows so well. It’s been a while since he climbed it, but he thinks he can. He grasps at the holds above his head and pulls himself up, one foothold at a time. As he launches himself over the railing and onto the balcony, he prays to every god he knows that Aelin has left her window unlocked. It doesn’t budge.

Crouched uncomfortably, Rowan lifts his tender knuckles and knocks against the glass of the large window. He watches as Fleetfoot lifts her head, wondering where the knocking is coming from. She spots Rowan and thumps her tail against Aelin’s fluffy comforter, but doesn’t bark or come to greet him. She’s not exactly the best guard dog.

Rowan knocks again, this time a little louder, and he watches as Aelin sleepily rouses from her slumber. He knocks a third time, and Aelin looks around, confused, obviously thinking that he’d woken her from inside the room. He waves from his crouch as she finally locates him on the other side of the glass.

She pads barefoot across the room and unlatches the window, which finally swings open easily.

“Feeling nostalgic?” she asks, her eyes squinting with unreleased laughter.

“Ha ha.” Aelin is the only one laughing as she helps Rowan through the window, but he can’t help but smile at the way her arms circle his waist and pull him towards the bed at the center of the room. “Where’d the front door key go?”

“Oh no, I forgot to put it back? I must have been more tired than I thought…”

He nods, and her arms squeeze his waist tighter, apologizing with her touch. A shiver runs up Rowan’s spine as her warm hands push the hem of his shirt up his back.

“If you’re too tired,” Rowan begins, but his words are muffled by Aelin tugging his shirt up and over his head. “This can wait until tomorrow…” Her fingers splay across his bare chest, and her lips brush against his shoulder, her eyes dark with want as she insists.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow,” she insists, tilting her chin up towards his.

Rowan lowers his head to hers, and she hums happily as his mouth caresses hers. He doesn’t have to be asked twice. He lets Aelin lead the way, crawling onto the bed on top of her. Aelin’s hands immediately go for his belt buckle, and he helps her, kicking off his pants one leg at a time as he pushes her nightgown over her head.

Clothes scatter across Aelin’s bedroom floor as the pair climb under the covers. Fleetfoot dodges his flying briefs with a loud huff and slinks under the bed, causing both Aelin and Rowan to laugh. But they aren’t distracted by the dog’s antics for very long. Within seconds, the pair is wrapped up in each other, finally after so long, relishing in the feel of being skin to skin. Rowan’s hands skim up her thighs, and he kisses every inch of her neck and shoulders he can reach. He has every intention of taking his time and worshipping her body, something they haven’t had the privilege of doing in weeks, but Aelin has other thoughts in mind.

She guides his hand between her legs, showing him how much she wants him, moisture dripping onto his fingers before he’s barely even touched her.

“Please, Rowan,” she moans, and Rowan chuckles into her cheek, whispering into her ear with a quiet. “Bossy.”

“You like it,” she says, smirking softly.

He does. He loves when she takes charge. But he doesn’t let it happen for very long. Before she can finish her sentence, Rowan lines himself up with her and slides into her with a deep thrust.

Aelin gasps and wraps her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass as he sits back on his heels and grasps her hips. He’s overwhelmed, as he always is when he first enters Aelin. Warmth spreads through his body as he adjusts their position and pace, lifting her hips off  the mattress to meet him as he kneels in front of her. He loves her this way, splayed out for him, her hair a tangled, golden mess haloed around her head. She breathes heavily with each torturously slow movement of his hips. She bites down on her lip, but releases a too loud, breathy moan regardless.

Rowan shushes her through his chuckles, loving that even after a year, this hasn’t remotely gotten old.

“C’mere.” She reaches out for him, and Rowan is helpless before her commands. He lowers her hips and leans down to kiss her. Fingers tug at his hair, keeping him pressed against her face. Even when their kiss breaks, they’re content to just breathe into each other’s mouths as he moves inside her slowly and deliberately, savoring each moment.

Rowan increases his pace, feeling them both on the brink, Aelin’s nails digging into his back, his lips at her neck – when the doorbell rings.

They both freeze. Rowan stills his hips, and Aelin’s gaze swings to the door.

“Was that our house?” she asks, eyes wide. The doorbell is followed by several knocks.

“Uh, I think so,” Rowan says, glancing at the clock, which now reads 3 am. Who the hell could that be? Fleetfoot pokes her nose out from under the bed and slinks towards the door to sniff under it.

“Do you think if we stay quiet they’ll go away?” Aelin whimpers, grasping his neck tighter. “I’m so close,” she half cries-half laughs. Rowan joins her.

“Me too,” he says, letting his head drop onto her shoulder.

“Just finish quickly,” she says, tilting her hips toward his, and Rowan chuckles into her skin.

Rowan refuses to move as he hears two pairs of footsteps coming down from the third floor. Aelin’s parents.

They listen as the front door opens, but are unable to pick out any words. The door closes just as fast, and he can feel Aelin relax and push her hips against his as her parents make their way back upstairs. He finally gives in and starts moving again, much to both their relief.

The relief is short-lived, though.

“Um, Aelin?” Evalin calls from the other side of the door, accompanied with a quick knock, and Rowan has the good sense to roll off to the other side of the bed, grumbling the entire way, upset to be cockblocked as Aelin tosses on her nightgown. Whatever was happening is officially over now. Rowan briefly wonders if it’s a cursed day as Aelin swings her door open.

“Is everything okay?” she asks her mom breathlessly, and Rowan tucks himself further under the blanket, willing his still prominent erection to subside quickly.

Suddenly, two cops emerge, and Aelin crosses her arms over her chest, backing up into the darkness of her room. Rowan would like to throw a robe over her, too, by the way the two cops are looking at her, but he can’t exactly go anywhere right now.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” the shorter of the two begins. “But we were notified by your neighbor of a breaking and entering? We wanted your permission to sweep your room for any intruders.”

Rowan groans loudly and lets his head fall back against the pillow as Aelin snorts.

“I’m so sorry to waste your time, officers,” Aelin says politely. “But, uh, there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

Her eyes flick to Rowan’s, who is still under the covers, but based on the state of the pair of them, there’s little question as to what they’ve been up to.

“Let me guess?” the other cop snickers. “Intruder?”

Rowan waves, and Rhoe and Evalin smile as they wave back.

“Rowan, when did you get in?” Rhoe asks, failing to hide his smile behind his hand.

But Rowan’s fairly certain this day could not get any worse. He’s still erect beneath the covers, and completely naked, and his nearly naked girlfriend is being interrogated by the cops and her parents. He wants to die.

“I forgot to leave the key out for my boyfriend,” Aelin explains. “So, he climbed up the trellis into my room.”

The cops apologize for the late-night intrusion, and Rhoe finally laughs fully. “As you were…”

They close the door with a soft click, and Rowan groans, falling back onto the pillow as Rhoe and Evalin head back upstairs, taking Fleetfoot with them.  

“Intruder,” Aelin laughs as she closes her bedroom door. “The Cortlands would never have called the cops.”

Rowan perks up at that. “Oh yeah, who’d they sell to?”

“I don’t kno-oww!” Aelin hisses in pain and clutches at her foot. “Ow, what the hell did I just step on?” she cries again, stumbling her way over to the light switch. “Was that your belt buckle? Shit, that hurt.”

Rowan squints as the bright bulb illuminates the room, and his heart stops as he sees what Aelin holds in her hand. Aelin stares with wonder at the tiny box that he’s managed to keep from her since he purchased it last December. Six months living together, and she never suspected once. In his haste to disrobe earlier, it must have fallen out of his pocket. He forgot it was even in there. He’s a fucking idiot.

Aelin’s jaw drops as she looks from the box up to Rowan, her blue gold eyes swimming with awe and confusion.

“Rowan?”

Her voice sounds so small and timid and so un-Aelin like, and Rowan’s stomach drops. Does she not want this?

“I swear to the gods, it was going to be perfect,” Rowan says, scrubbing at his face with his hand. He watches as Aelin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He closes his eyes and imagines the scene he’d wanted so badly. ”I had it all planned out for today. But, then today happened.” He He sighs loudly.” Six months of waiting… to find your ring on the fucking floor.”

He hates the spike of insecurity and flagellation that fills his brain, ready to convince him he’s useless. He’s gotten better about his negative self-talk over the last year, but sometimes old habits are hard to break.

“Six months?” she asks, fiddling with the box in her fingers.

“Yulemas shopping,” Rowan chuckles to himself, but there’s no humor to be found there.

“Rowan.” She repeats his name, nothing more than a whisper from the other side of the room.

“I used to feel like the lesser party in this relationship. And I swear, I don’t feel like that anymore. But, the way this has happened, I’m feeling pretty useless. That, or this proposal is cursed.”

“Can I see it?” she whispers, and Rowan suddenly feels even more nervous, if that were even possible.

He nods, feeling the strain in his throat as it bobs uncomfortably, his throat suddenly dry.

She cracks the box open, and Aelin breathes in sharply as she picks up the emerald, flanked by two smaller diamonds, and laid into a platinum band. It had cost two full months of his paycheck, but he’d seen it and immediately known it was meant to sit on Aelin’s finger for the rest of her life.

She approaches the bed slowly, and his body warms as her awed expression turns into a brilliant smile. He loves when she looks at him like that. Like he’s special. She straddles his lap, bringing one knee to either side of his waist and wraps one arm around his neck, the other cradling the box in her hand still.

Her lips press against this over and over again as she whispers between kisses, “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Rowan’s heart pumping wildly as he pulls back to look at her.

“Yeah?” he asks, and she replies quickly.

“Oh yeah.” She grins and kisses him again. “And if you want to do your plan tomorrow, I am all yours,” she says, and Rowan’s heart feels like it’s going to explode of joy.

He slides the ring onto her finger. It looks just as perfect there as he’d imagined, and he can’t resist perssing the newly jeweled hand against his thrumming heartbeat.

“I’ll give it back in the morning,” she says, a small tear trickling down her cheek.

She can’t stop smiling, and neither can Rowan, both of them mumbling “I love you,” over and over as Aelin climbs into his lap to finish what they started earlier in the evening.

~*~

Rowan wakes before Aelin, which is highly unusual, but she did say she was tired. He glances at the glittering gems on her finger and kisses it softly. He can’t believe this beautiful creature is actually going to marry him.

“Mmm,” she smiles back in her sleep, and he can’t resist pressing his lips against hers.

As he distracts her with sleepy kisses, he slides the ring off her finger, and she pouts immediately. “I’ll give it back soon, I promise,” he says softly, and her smile returns. The ring finds its way back into the small velvet box without any problems, and Rowan pulls on clothes from the floor and pockets it immediately. “Coffee?” he whispers into her ear, and Aelin nods, eyes still closed.

Rowan heads downstairs and grabs his bag from his car, and decides to shower before bringing Aelin coffee. After working all day, then sitting in a car for nine hours, and then engaging in sexual activity for most of the night, he could really use a shower. Plus, maybe he can tempt Aelin into joining him, he thinks.

Upstairs, though, Aelin is already in the bathroom and looking worse for wear. Dark circles rim her undereye, and her cheeks looks pale and sweaty. She flushes the toilet and walks slowly to the sink to rinse out her mouth.

Rowan drops his bag from his shoulder and rushes to her. “Aelin? Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and shrugs. “I think you might be right about the cursed proposal. I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, splashing water onto her ashen face. “A few of my students had this stomach thing, and I thought I escaped it, but…”

She stops and breathe slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes flick to Rowan’s in the mirror, looking disappointed and upset.

“Hey, hey,” he reassures her, pushing back her damp hair from her clammy forehead. “You never have to apologize for getting sick.”

Aelin had also caught the flu from one of her students in January, a terrible cold in March, and strep throat that turned into an ear infection in April. Rowan was extremely grateful she’d already gotten the chicken pox otherwise their May would have been really upsetting. It turns out Aelin’s immune system kind of sucks.

“Good thing is it’s only a twenty-four-hour bug, so we can just push until tomorrow?” she says hopefully.

Rowan kisses the top of her head. “Get back in bed. We’ll worry about that when you’re feeling better.”

Aelin grumbles all the way back to bed, but she must be feeling extremely sick if she followed his directions so quickly. Aelin is one of those suffer in silence such people, who likes to think that if she doesn’t acknowledge not feeling well then she won’t be sick. As if she ignores her problems they’ll cease to exist. Rowan has to admit, when he discovered that he was fairly relieved. He’d thought it only applied to him. Oh how wrong he was. If the fact that she climbs into bed without any hesitation is any indication, she currently feels like shit.

“Who gets sick during the summer?” she complains to herself, but when Rowan comes out of the shower, she’s already fast asleep again.

He wanders downstairs to grab coffee for himself and is only slightly surprised to see the whole family there.

“Uncle Rowan!” Gavin cheers, throwing himself around Rowan’s thighs.

“Hey, bud, you’re getting really tall,” Rowan laughs. “And strong,” he continues, realizing he’s unable to walk with the little boy grasping his legs.

“Where’s Auntie Ae?” Gavin asks, his blue eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Rowan recognizes that look. It’s the look of a man obsessed with Aelin Ashryver. He doesn’t particularly blame the child.

“She’s still sleeping,” Rowan answers the little boy, who immediately looks disappointed.

“Someone wore her out?” Lysandra jests, welcoming Rowan with a warm hug and a nudge to his ribs.

“Very funny.” Rowan says, though his tone lacks any humor.

Aedion snorts. “Come on, it’s a little funny. And a great story. Locked out, and then interrupted by the cops while banging?”

Rhoe chokes on his coffee. “I don’t think I used the word banging.”

“No, you used the words ‘being intimate’ which is somehow much grosser,” Aedion laughs again, taking a long sip of his coffee.

Rowan’s cheeks are burning, he can feel the flames go all the way up to his ears. This is why he’s grateful he and Aelin have their own rental they can check into tomorrow.

He ignores the conversation at the table and instead lets them know Aelin isn’t feeling well.

“So she’s not coming to the park today?” Gavin pouts.

“I don’t think so, but maybe tomorrow?”

Appeased, Gavin rushes off to play with Fleetfoot..

Rowan wishes the family a good time at the park and heads back upstairs, wanting to check in on his sick girlfriend. Wait, no. Not girlfriend. Fiancée. He grins at that.

Upstairs, he climbs into bed next to Aelin’s slumbering form. She immediately curls into his thigh, and his mouth twitches upward when she sighs his name in her sleep. His fingers run through her hair, and he basks in a moment of silent happiness. In sickness and in health, right? While Aelin sleeps, Rowan opens his laptop to see about a hundred emails waiting for him. He answers them dutifully as he sips his coffee. His work only halts when Aelin launches herself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom, still half asleep. He itches to help her, but he’s learned from previous experience that Aelin does not like to be coddled when she’s sick. Instead, he opens her windows to let some fresh air in. The room fills quickly with the crisp scent of salty sea air traveling on a breeze. The shower turns on in the bathroom, and Rowan returns to his never-ending emails while he waits for her to emerge.  A cloud of steam billows around her skin as she opens the door. Her skin has regained some color, a pink flush to her cheeks and her eyes look brighter. “Napping helped?” “How long was I out for?” she asks, her voice hoarse as she curls back up next to him. He glances at his watch. “Only a few hours. How are you feeling?” “Like crap,” she laughs. “You should go downstairs. You do not want to catch this.” “I don’t know,” Rowan says, stroking her cheek. “I wouldn’t mind staying in bed for a few days.” Aelin shivers and nuzzles further into his side. “You’ll mind it when you’re hunched over the toilet.” She sniffs the air and a greyish pallor takes over her complexion. “If nothing else, can you take your coffee cup downstairs. The smell of anything food-related is...” “Not good?” he asks, and as Aelin goes to shake her head, she rushes into the bathroom again and slams the door shut. As loathe as he is to leave her, Aelin is right. He can’t afford to get sick right now. So, Rowan takes his laptop out to the patio with Fleetfoot keep him company as he finishes his work. When Aelin finally makes her way downstairs at the end of the day, she looks significantly better. The whole family sits at the dinner table, and their heads swivel to the disheveled blonde, still wearing her pajamas. “You look like you’re feeling better.” Aelin nods in affirmation and Rowan breathes a sigh of relief that it seems the worst has passed. “Can I make you toast, Fireheart?” Evalin asks her daughter, who wrinkles her nose at the large dinner spread on the table. “No, I need something cold for my throat.” She pats at her neck. “Do we have any ice cream?” Rhoe laughs. “Yeah, she’s feeling better.” “Freezer,” Evalin directs her, and Aelin makes herself a bowl of mint ice cream quickly before taking a seat on Rowan’s knee. Rowan looks at Aelin’s empty ring finger as she eats. He can’t wait for tomorrow. Can’t wait to make it official. ~*~ “Twenty-four-hour bug, my ass,” Aelin frowns as she exits the bathroom the next morning. She’d been so convinced it’d passed when her ice cream stayed down last night. Apparently not. “This is the worst.”

Rowan pats the fluffy comforter next to him, and Aelin crawls on top, cuddling into his side like a cat. It’s been a long time since she felt this sick before. And she had the flu earlier this year. Stupid music students and their germy fingers!

“Rowan,” she whispers, wondering if she should admit what she’s about to admit. “I’m starting to believe in the curse.”

Rowan snorts too loudly, taking her comment as a joke, but she’s not so sure. Three days in a row his plans have gone to shit, and Aelin is starting to feel antsy to have that stunning ring on her finger again. She missed its weight as soon as he pulled it off yesterday, and she’s ready for it to be returned to its rightful owner. Her.

As if he senses her agitation, Rowan drags his fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp and playing with the strands like he knows she likes. Her eyes flutter close, and within a few minutes, she’s asleep again. Aelin wakes again in the late afternoon feeling groggy but with an even stomach. She takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth and heads downstairs, where Rowan is lounging out on the back patio. His computer glasses are perched on his nose as his fingers type a mile a minute, probably fixing some bug that Darrow couldn’t reprogram. His brows are furrowed, and he bites his lip – his concentrating face.

He finally looks up as she approaches the doorway, and she watches as his wrinkled forehead smooths out, his serious face replaced by one of delight. It makes her heart beat faster.

“You must be feeling a lot better than this morning if you’re looking at me like that,” Rowan says, closing his computer and standing to greet her. His arms welcome her with a warm embrace, and she inhales deeply as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her close.

“Is everyone at the park?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow suggestively, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan’s eyes darken.

“What happened to being concerned about me getting sick?” he asks as his fingers trail patterns against the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Who said we had to fuck face-to-face?” Aelin says, tugging his shirt with her hands. “Just bend me over the kitchen island.”

“Aelin,” he groans, pressing his face into the top of her head. She can feel his chest vibrate with laughter against hers, letting her know that her idea is  being rejected. But if the other things moving against her are any indication, he’s not completely disinterested.

“As tempting as that sounds,” he begins, and by the look on his face, she knows he’s been thoroughly tempted, “I was kind of hoping not to be interrupted the next time we do it. If you’re really feeling better, though, maybe we should move into our own place tonight?”  

Aelin grins excitedly. As much as she loves Ashryver Estate, she’s thrilled she and Rowan will have their own place this summer. Where they can be as loud as they want. And desecrate every single surface.

It takes them barely thirty minutes to pack, and Aelin calls her parents to let them know they won’t be there when they return. Aelin assures her parents she feels better, that the bug has run its course, and apologizes for sneaking out while they’re gone.

She and Rowan pull up to the small brown house nearly simultaneously. It’s not on the beach, about a fifteen-minute drive from Aelin’s parents, and about a ten-minute walk to Lysandra and Aedion’s, on a small residential street dotted with lush green trees and bright verdant lawns. They drop their bags in the foyer and immediately wander around the place, taking in the cozy, beach town vibes.

The backyard is perfect, and Rowan opens the screened in porch door for Fleetfoot to run around the wide gated lawn. At the center is a long, narrow pool, which glistens a bright turquoise. Aelin can’t wait to spend her summer lounging in it.

As they make their way back into the house, they finally make their way to the kitchen. Its immaculate marble counters are dotted with decorative bowls of lemons, and Aelin notices Rowan nearly drooling at the Viking double ovens. But what has her attention is right in the middle of the room.

Rowan follows her gaze and his green eyes darken, a shade of forest that she knows means trouble for her. The pair practically race to the kitchen island, and they make good on Aelin’s earlier suggestion, well into the evening.

~*~

Aelin wakes in the middle of the night, gasping for air, feeling overheated in her own skin. She must have had a nightmare, but she can’t remember what about. She looks down at a dreaming Rowan for comfort, his eyelashes twitching against his tanned cheeks, and feels her heart swell in her chest. She loves this man so much. She can’t believe she’s going to be his wife. Years ago, when Chaol had thrown around the word “marriage,” she’d flinched. Literally. Flinched. Now, she aches to let everyone know that this man is going to be her husband.

She leans down and kisses his bare shoulder. “Rowan,” she whispers against his skin, and he stirs slightly. “Rowan, wake up.”

He startles awake, bolting upright faster than he has any right to do, and looks her over seriously. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she says, and he exhales quickly.

“Why am I waking up then?” he asks, looking at the clock. It’s barely past 4 am.

“I know you wanted to do your perfect proposal, but…” Rowan’s face pales in the moonlight, and Aelin reaches out to reassure him quickly. “I don’t need a perfect proposal. I knew when we left here last summer that you were it for me. You’re kind and funny, and you understand my terrible humor without making me feel stupid about it.” Rowan smiles at that one, making her stomach flutter. “You’re ambitious and proud, but you have never asked me to change what I want or to make myself bigger or smaller. You just love … me.” He swallows and nods. He does. She knows he does. Which is why, she barrels on, confessing what she’s been ruminating over the last two days in bed.

“I want to marry you so much,” she breathes, her voice cracking with the weight of her emotion. “And even though I don’t know what your plans were, I know this wasn’t even close to what you imagined. But,” she pauses and bites at the skin on her lip as Rowan leans closer. “I can’t imagine us doing anything traditionally, can you?” He shakes his head and rubs his thumb against her bottom lip, unhooking it from her tooth. She smiles at the gesture. “I loved my accidental proposal,” she says more boldly, “And I want to tell everyone I know immediately. I want to have a celebratory dinner with all our friends, and I…” Her voice cracks again as a rogue tear falls from her eye. “…want my ring back.”

“Right now?” Rowan asks, unshed tears in his eyes, and Aelin nods readily. As Rowan crosses the room to the dresser and pulls the small velvet box from his sock, Aelin’s heart starts pounding again. This is really happening.

He shakes his head slightly as he opens the box and pulls out the ring. It gleams under the soft glow of the moon, casting emerald shadows across their white duvet.

“You know, that was a hell of a proposal, Ms. Ashryver.” He smirks, and she cocks her eyebrow in return.

“So what’s your answer, Mr. Whitethorn?”

He pretends to look pensive for a second, before sliding the ring back onto her finger. It fits perfectly. “Yes, I think I’d like to marry you,” he says, leaning close to her lips. “And what about you? You’ll marry me, too?”

“I already said yes,” she whispers. The tension hums between them, both their hearts pounding with the electric current of their promises. “Yes,” she answers again, and Rowan pulls her beneath the blankets with him.

~*~

“You know your initials are going to spell AAW, now, which I find absolutely adorable,” Lysandra says as she takes Aelin’s splayed hand in her grasp. Her eyes narrow in on the new piece of jewelry, examining it like a hawk.

“It’s stunning, Ae,” she concludes, and Aelin can’t help but peer over Lysandra’s shoulder to grin at the man of the hour, taking beers out of their fridge.

“I know,” Aelin says, her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much at her family and friends’ enthusiasm over their “very expected” nuptials, as Manon put it.

The doorbell rings, and Aelin attempts to extract herself from the small circle of women who have huddled around her hand to “oo” and “ah,” at her ring, but Rowan is faster. He welcomes her parents into their abode with a wide smile. Evalin and Rhoe drop off giant catering tins filled with food, prepared by Emrys, on the kitchen island.

Rowan throws Aelin a knowing smirk, and her cheeks pink remembering the thorough way they debased that particular part of the house last night.  

Lysandra chuckles softly and whispers in her ear, “I hope you Cloroxed that.”

Aelin’s pink cheeks darken, heating wildly at Lysandra’s knowing smile. She must look shocked, because Lys simply shakes her head and shrugs. “How do you think we got two kids? Please. Aedion and I used to screw on every surface in—”

“Okay!”  Aelin holds up her hand. “I don’t need to know.” She gags, feeling slightly queasy at the image of her brother and his wife going at it. “But yes, we invested in Clorox wipes this summer.”

“Smart girl,” she says, squeezing Aelin’s shoulder lightly.

Aelin rolls her eyes and heads to the island to help her fiancé unpack the food and welcome her parents. They greet her with hugs and kisses, and Evalin can’t stop smiling. Neither can Aelin, though. She’s getting married. To Rowan. She’s never felt this kind of happiness.

When Aelin goes to lift the foil from the food, Rowan pushes her away. “Go, sit. I’ll make you a taco.”

The food smells heavenly. Emrys has outdone himself, Aelin thinks to herself as she takes in the spread of multiple taco fillings and accoutrements. And in a separate Tupperware, just for her, is her favorite potato salad, labeled with her name and the word, “Congratulations!” underneath. She thinks she might cry.

“Grilled adobo chicken with corn salsa, guac, and cheese?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

“Chips?” he asks, and she shakes her head, instead pointing to her special Tupperware. He winks at her and shoos her away, back to entertain everyone as he calls out, “Food’s ready!” A line forms across the island, and Rowan oversees food distribution as Aelin wanders back out to heir friends. She knows what he’s doing. By staying by the food, Rowan doesn’t have to socialize or make small talk. Things he loathes. She doesn’t call him out, letting him retreat to his comfort place of the kitchen as she makes her way out to the screened in porch where most everyone is sitting.

“So, when do we get proposal details?” Elide asks, sipping at her beer. Lorcan frowns, commenting that proposals are private, and Aelin briefly wonders if those two are next in line to walk down the aisle.

She smiles as slides onto the chaise next to an outstretched Dorian, who’s already working on his third beer, and tells a very vague and abridged version of their proposal.

Manon laughs every step of the way, relishing in the ridiculousness of their premature proposal. “And the ring traveled across the room from his pocket, hm? How aggressively was he kicking them off?”

“Manon, my family is here,” Aelin hisses.

“Your family knows what you two were up to in your bedroom all last summer,” Aedion laughs loudly, “And apparently this summer,” he continues, pulling Lysandra into his lap, as the room bursts into laughter at Aelin’s expense.

“I hate you all,” Aelin groans as Rowan walks into the porch, both their plates in hand.

“I hope not,” he says as he hands off the plate to Aelin. “Otherwise, the rest of our lives are going to be pretty awkward…”

“You know I love you,” Aelin says, batting her eyelashes. “You bring me food.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and takes a large bite of his taco. Aelin does the same and nearly moans in satisfaction. It’s so spicy and so good. She really hopes it stays down. The only food she’s had in the last two days has been ice cream and toast.

As she devours her plate, she listens to Elide and Lorcan’s summer plans, nodding and hmming in all the right places. She saved her potato salad for last, because you should always save the best for last, and excitedly plops a piece into her mouth. She chews twice before she spits it back out onto the plate. The whole room silences.

“Sorry,” Aelin apologizes, covering the chewed potato with a napkin. “I think the mayo was off.”

Rowan takes a bite of it himself and cocks his head to the side. “It tastes fine to me. Are you sure you’re not still sick?” he asks, leaning over to feel her forehead. It flushes under his touch, but not because she’s sick. She’s been fine for over twenty-four-hours.

“I’m fine,” Aelin whines. “But that mayo was not.”

Manon opens her mouth and closes it. And then opens it again. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

“No…” Rowan and Aelin reply quickly at the same time, before glancing at each other, and then back at the room filled with their friends and family. Their expressions range from amused to suspicious to horrified to confused, and suddenly Aelin thinks she’s going to be ill all over again.

“That’s not possible,” Aelin comments confidently. There’s no way. She went back on the pill as soon as she went home last summer. Although now that she’s thinking about it, she’s not a hundred percent sure she actually bled during her last placebo pill week. But she must have, right?

“Aelin?” Rowan asks, his voice unreasonably high. He leans forward and places his hand on her knee, and she looks down at it, placing her hand atop it, before looking back at him.

“I think we should go to the pharmacy.”

“Oh, I’m coming too!” Elide announces, downing the rest of her beer.

Aelin rushes out of the house without saying goodbye to anyone. She assumes Rowan makes some excuse for their departure, but she doesn’t have time to delay. She needs to know and needs to know now. How the hell could this have happened? There must be some other explanation. Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel as Rowan hops into the passenger seat, and Elide slides into the back.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, and Aelin nods tersely.

“Uh huh,” she replies, but she’s not entirely sure how she feels.

Inside the pharmacy, Aelin pulls three different brands of pregnancy tests. Rowan stands awkwardly beside her, arms crossed, perusing the back of each.

“I don’t know,” he says calmly, but his wild green eyes betray his panic. “Is there a best brand?”

Aelin doesn’t know. She decides to get all three.

As they wait in the check-out line, Elide giggles loudly.

“Aw man,” she places a hand each on Rowan and Aelin. “Remember the last time I ran into you here? You were buying condoms.” Her eyes flick to the pregnancy tests. “Why’d you stop using them?”

“Elide!” Aelin hisses, and Elide grimaces at her tone. Rowan pays quickly and swipes the bag of the counter and returns to the car. She looks at Rowan, his eyes simmering with worry as he looks her over. “The mayo was off… wasn’t it?” she asks again, and Rowan reaches for her hand, taking it in his larger one and shakes his head.  

Aelin speeds home, ignoring everyone as she makes her way into the guest bathroom and pees on every single stick. She’s taking no chances. She sets a three-minute timer on her phone, and slinks against the bathroom door, falling until her butt hits the cold tile of the floor. This was absolutely not the engagement celebration she had anticipated.

Through the door, she can hear Rowan lean against the other side. He must be sitting, too. His head thumps against the wood and she breathes in deeply, eyes screwed closed.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the door, sliding his fingertips through the crack beneath it. Aelin brushes her own against his, and she releases some of the panic she’s been holding in her shoulders at his calming touch.

She stays like that, until her alarm goes off. And she can feel that tension creeping back into her body, which is suddenly frozen with fear.

“I can’t look,” she says.

“You have to look,” Rowan insists through the door.

“I don’t want to,” she groans. “And I don’t have to.” She pauses. “You can.”

She can hear his sharp exhale. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,” she says quietly, and she can hear him stand. The doorknob turns and he pushes the door open. Aelin shifts slightly so he can get through, and he walks straight to the counter top where the tests are laid out, getting her pee all over one of the fancy hand towels.

Aelin closes her eyes tightly, thinking that if she closes her eyes, she won’t have to see the result. But of course. She forgot about her ears. Rowan’s breath stays steady as he turns and crouches in front of her.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispers. Aelin’s heart thuds. She knew she was. As soon as Manon said the word, she knew.

“It was those stupid antibiotics when I had strep,” Aelin grumbles, putting her face into her hands. “I knew there was a chance, and I didn’t say anything. Why didn’t I say anything?” This was so not the plan. Her feelings are all over the place. “Rowan, what are we going to do?”

She opens her eyes, shocked to see how close Rowan is to her. He cradles her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently as he probes into her with a loving gaze. It takes her aback for a second. The way he looks at her. Gods, she loves him so much. She blinks and is surprised when a tear rolls down her cheek. He wipes it away and kisses it. The small gesture is enough to solidify how Aelin feels.

“I know this isn’t the right time for us. It’s so soon, and you’re in the middle of your schooling, and I’m going to be looking for a new app to work on soon, so… if you don’t a baby right now…” He swallows, his voice pained as he continues forward, and Aelin can’t gasp soon enough. “I’ll support you no matter what—”

“No!” Aelin shakes her head.

“No?” Rowan asks, quirking his head to the side, and Aelin finally lets her tears spill over her cheeks.

“No.” She shakes her head, giving him a watery smile. “This is our baby. I want this.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and she nods again, blinking rapidly. She can’t blink the tears away fast enough, so Rowan kisses them away, pressing his lips against her eyes and her cheeks until her crying abates.

The pair kissing in the bathroom don’t even notice when their party departs, too busy being wrapped up in one another.

~*~

Rowan is woken up in the middle of the night, again, by his fiancée. He loves her more than anything, but he’d really enjoy a full night of sleep one of these nights. Preferably without her yelling at him.

“Rowan!” she growls, rousing him from his pleasant dreams, and hoisting him up. Her face is red with anger, her eyes glittering in the moonlight, looking ready to attack.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe you knocked me up! Now we have to have a shotgun wedding!” she yells, louder than she has any right to in the middle of the night.

“Can it really be considered a shotgun wedding if I proposed to you before I knew you were pregnant?” Rowan asks, trying to pull her back down, and immediately regrets it, based on Aelin’s increased anger.

She frowns. “I don’t want to be fat at my wedding.”

Rowan laughs sweetly and pulls Aelin into his arms. “You won’t be fat. You’ll be pregnant.”

Aelin pushes herself out of his grasp and glares. Ok. Wrong thing to say, clearly. “I refuse to be fat at my wedding,” she growls, flopping back onto her pillow. “But if we wait until after we have the baby for me to get my body back… that could be two years from now.” She rolls over and faces him. “I don’t want to wait two years.”

Rowan scoots down until he’s facing her, his legs tangled with her bare ones beneath the covers. “First of all, you’re beautiful, no matter what.” Aelin scoffs, clearly not believing his truth. “But, we don’t have to wait.” He can’t help but kiss her surprised face. “Let’s get married this summer. Here. It’s where I’d want to do it anyway.”

He can see a hundred thoughts racing through Aelin’s blue eyes as she contemplates his proposal.

“Plan a wedding in two months? My mom is going to die.”

“If it’s too much…”

“It’s not too much,” Aelin replies, snuggling closer to him. He runs his hand up the back of her tank top, feeling her skin warm the pads of his fingers. She presses closer to him, her curves against his chest, and he dips his head down to kiss her.

“It’ll still be a shotgun wedding,” Rowan says through kisses. “The people who don’t already know will surely figure it out when the baby comes six months later.”

“As long as I look good in photos, I don’t care.”

“Good to know motherhood won’t affect your vanity,” Rowan chuckles, and Aelin gasps.

“Rowan, we’re getting married, and we’re going to have a baby.”

Rowan shakes his head. “I know. What have we done?”

~*~

If Rowan thought last summer was a whirlwind, it’s nothing compared to a summer with a pregnant, last minute wedding-planning Aelin. As soon as they told her parents the plan, Aelin was off to the races. They’ve decided to forgo everything traditional, much to Evalin’s distress. The only thing Aelin has insisted upon is Rowan not seeing her wedding dress beforehand, which he has no problem with.

In fact, he’s been fairly uninvolved in the wedding plans, leaving the decisions to Aelin. He found out very quickly that she had strong opinions about flowers and colors and food. The only thing he’s insisted upon participating in is the guest list – which includes only twenty of their closest friends and family.  He knows that number isn’t even a tenth of the amount of people who attended Aedion and Lysandra’s wedding. Aelin is expected to have a high society wedding, but she and Rowan are defying expectations left and right with their lives. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter. They stopped asking for approval from anyone the second they got together, and everyone seems to be okay with that.

Rowan smirks as Aelin sighs loudly from the back seat of his car. Her arms are crossed against her chest, pushing up her breasts to make an even larger than usual swell of cleavage. Despite her insecurities, pregnancy looks incredible on Aelin, and Rowan can’t help if his eyes flick to her chest more often these days.

“Stop checking out my rack, Rowan,” Aelin frowns, and he laughs boisterously, tipping his head back in amusement at his grumpy fiancée. “It’s not funny. Look at the road.”

Rowan stares harder. “We’re at a stoplight.”

Aelin’s lips curl into the most adorable pout, and her blue eyes widen.

“You know, you could have driven up here with me,” Rowan says of the empty passenger seat next to him, and Aelin shakes her head.

“No, changing levels is the one thing that makes me queasy,” she explains.

“Which is why you should have driven up here,” Rowan says. “My mom is going to insist that the pregnant girl sit in the front.”

“Adults sit in the front,” Aelin snaps, and Rowan smiles.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are an adult.”

Aelin frowns again. “You know what I mean.”

They drive in silence for a few more seconds until the tension becomes so thick that Rowan has to ask. “Are you nervous about meeting my mom?”

It’s all the prompting Aelin needs to explode. “Yes!” she shouts, throwing her arms up in defeat. “Of course I’m nervous! I’ve stolen her son away from her. You didn’t even go back for Yulemas,” she prattles nervously. Rowan watches as she emphasizes with her hands, a sure sign of Aelin’s stress. It’s completely unfounded, though.

“Aelin, you don’t understand,”  Rowan throws her what he hopes is a reassuring smile over his shoulder. “You made Dora’s dreams come true by dating me, much less marrying me and incubating our child. She loves you.”

Aelin barks out a laugh. “Incubating?”

Rowan shrugs. “What would you call it?”

“Incubating works,” she replies with a snort, and Rowan can tell he’s had some luck in calming her nerves.

By the time they arrive at the airport, Dora is already waiting on the curb with her bag in her hand. She’s come to spend the whole wedding week, spending time with Rowan and meeting her in-laws before they make it official. Rowan’s been playing it cool, but he is incredibly excited to see his mom.

He hops out of the car and welcomes her with a big hug as soon as he can. Aelin nervously exits the car and waves hello. He watches as Dora’s eyes go wide as she extricates herself from Rowan and throws her arms around Aelin.

“You are even more stunning in person,” Dora says, causing a soft blush to appear on Aelin’s cheeks. “How are you feeling? Sick at all? How are the cravings? How are your studies? Are you teaching at all this summer?”

“Uhhh…”

It’s so rare that Aelin is flustered, that is gives Rowan some sort of sick pleasure that it’s Dora Whitethorn, who makes her nervous. Rowan can’t help but smile as he watches his two favorite women meet each other. As he expected, Dora goes straight for the back seat when it’s time to return to the car, and it’s a fight Aelin loses quickly.

“Told you so,” Rowan says, winking at a disgruntled Aelin, as she buckles herself in.

“Has your son always been so self-righteous?” Aelin asks the white-haired woman making herself comfortable in the back of Rowan’s roomy SUV.

Dora’s green eyes twinkle as she hums. “No, but he’s always been a pain in my ass.”

“Mom!” Rowan can hear her snickering behind him, and Aelin’s eyes widen in joy. There’s nothing she loves more than teasing him. He forgot that these two share that interest.

“It’s true, baby,” Dora laughs. “You’re constantly making things much harder than they should be. Aelin should know what she’s getting herself into.”

Rowan frowns as Aelin laughs harder. “If I get left at the altar I’m blaming you.”

Aelin snorts loudly and puts her hand on her stomach. “As if I’d raise this chicken on my own. No offense, Dora, but I seems really hard. I don’t know how you did it. And so well.”

“Sometimes you get a good egg,” Dora says with a small smile just for Aelin. “Now, tell me all the gossip about everyone who’s going to be at this wedding. I just flew ten hours and am ready to be entertained.”

~*~

“Stop fidgeting,” Manon hisses, swatting Rowan’s hands away from his carefully brushed hair.

“I can’t,” Rowan admits, tugging nervously at a lock of his hair. He’d meant to get a haircut before the big day, but clearly that hadn’t happened, and now his hair is just a smidge too long, falling into his eyes ever so slightly.

Manon glares, her heavily lined eyes throwing him a look that could kill. And he knows she means it. Rowan stands still, taking a deep breath and attempting to center himself as Manon rolls up the sleeves of his light blue blazer.

“How are you this nervous?” Manon asks, quirking her red-painted lips into an amused half-smile. “Dorian is officiating.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rowan groans. How he said yes to that idea, he’ll never know. Aelin must have been in the midst of performing some incredible sexual act for him to agree to that detail. But it seemed too important to her say no. Plus, it’s not like there was anyone else he’d rather do it. He was just… nervous. About what Dorian might potentially say in front of their guests. After all. He’d been there since the very beginning.

“He loves you both,” Manon says with a sigh. “And I do too. Although if you ever use it against me I’ll deny forever.”

“You love Aelin?” Rowan asks, and he watches as his best friend rolls her eyes and hip checks Rowan. She adjusts the thin straps of her navy jumpsuit, smoothing out the silky fabric to assure her minor assault hasn’t messed up her wedding look.

“I just told you I’d deny it.” She places her hands on her hips, examining Rowan up and down, before adjusting the small white pocket square in his blazer. “There. Perfect.” She says with a pat to his chest. “Ready?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

Rowan leads Manon through the gates of Ashryver Playland and lets his worries ease away. He’s not sure why he was ever nervous. He’s about to marry the most amazing woman in the world.

Beside the pier, in the location where Rowan had intended to ask Aelin to marry him, is a small walkway leading out to a platform on the beach. Ten chairs flank either side, filled with smiling, familiar faces. Dorian waits at the center of the platform, beneath a stunning arch of twisting greenery dotted with pale flowers.

As the sun starts to descend, a dark golden haze casts itself over the sand. He watches as it turns to orange and then pink beneath his shadow. And then he knows it’s time.

Rowan smiles as Gavin leads Fleefoot down the aisle, spreading pale flower petals across the platform with his other hand and then takes a seat next to his family, who congratulates him with high fives and cheers. Fleetfoot happily thumps her tail as Rowan gives her a smile, too.

But his attention is diverted immediately as everyone stands to welcome Aelin. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, hammering against his ribs as he spots her face. Aelin lifts her chin up toward the colorful tie-dye sky and takes a deep breath. As she takes her first step onto the platform, she smiles the most beautiful smile Rowan’s ever seen. He’s sure his face mirrors hers, and he can’t help but laugh as she scrunches up her nose slightly and sticks her tongue out at him. Gods, she’s perfect.

His eyes never leave her grinning face. When he takes her hands in his, when she stands here facing him, all the way until they say, “I do.” He’s not sure what he was ever worried about, because he barely even hears Dorian’s officiating, too busy being swept up in the turquoise-gold of Aelin’s eyes.

When Dorian announces, “You may kiss the bride,” Rowan doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. If she’s surprised by the exuberance of his kiss, Aelin doesn’t show it. She matches his fervor with equal force, soft lips parting to let their tongues explore each other’s mouths a little too thoroughly for public consumption.

“Now everyone knows how Aelin got pregnant,” Dorian snorts quietly behind him, and Aelin smiles and laughs into Rowan’s mouth.

Seeing his opportunity, Dorian interrupts them before they can go in for another kiss. “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Rowan lifts Aelin, scooping her from under her knees, and cradles her against his chest as he bounds off the platform.

“Where are you going?” Dorian yells as Aelin squeals loudly. But Rowan doesn’t care.

He finds the pole he was looking for immediately. Below the pier. Where he first kissed Aelin. He wants to kiss her there as his wife for the first time.

“Rowan!” she gasps as he presses her against the wooden beam, his mouth finding hers quickly. He can feel her soft fingers in his hair, tugging him against her, reciprocating his kiss, making his pulse race just like that very first time.

He pulls away panting, and rests his forehead against hers.

“I love you so much,” she whispers. “But if you ruin my dress before we get a picture together, I’ll murder you.”

Rowan laughs and lets her down, and they both kick off their shoes and sink their toes into the sand. He finally lets his eyes trail down her body, taking in her flowing white dress and grins.

“I’m going to be honest, I just looked at the dress for the first time.”

She smacks his shoulder, and he recoils, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You’re perfect.”

She tilts her head to the side, letting her loose waves fall over her shoulder. “You’re a sap.”

“A sap you love,” he retorts quickly.

“Gods help us,” Aelin laughs, reaching up to kiss him again. But Rowan has other thoughts in mind. He trails his lips down her neck to her chest, loving the way the neckline of her dress emphasizes it.

“Oy!” Dorian cackles, “Let’s keep it PG. There’s people who want to eat dinner soon.”

Rowan flicks him off. “We’ll meet you there.”

But Aelin grabs his hand and pulls him to follow Dorian.

Their small reception is only a ten minute walk away in the Ashryvers’ back patio. Aelin made the playlist herself, and they covered the pool with a temporary dance floor. Emrys made the dinner – no mayo in anything and sparkling cider to last well into the night.

Rowan walks hand in hand with his bride across the sand, walking the familiar stretch from Playland to the Ashryver Estate. Only this time, everything is different. Nothing is a secret. And they both belong in a world of their own creation – one they’re going to start getting ready to bring a life into.

~*~

“What are you thinking?” Aelin says from her perch on his lap, well into the evening. She runs her fingers through his hair, now disheveled from hours of dancing and too many sips of champagne.

“I’m thinking that I can’t wait until next summer,” Rowan says, cracking a smile at Aelin. She rubs her thumb against his cheek and presses her lips to his.

“The last two summers weren’t crazy enough for you?” she asks. “You want to know what it’s going to be like with an infant in the mix?”

Rowan pales. “Oh my god, Aelin, we’re going to have a baby.”

“Did you forget?” she says, holding back a laugh.

He shakes his head. “No. I just…” He pauses. “What are we going to do with a baby at Playland?”

Aelin laughs, leaning her tired head against his shoulder. “Well, we’ll obviously take them on the Firecoaster, first and foremost. Then the High Flyer. Oh, and the Bumper Cars.”

Rowan can feel his lips turning down into a frown as he imagines his child on the dangerous rides.

“Rowan, I’m kidding,” she assures him, and he squeezes her side, causing her to let out a sharp cackle. “We’ll figure it out,” she finally says quietly. “We always do.”

She tightens her hand around his, and the pair sit together, wrapped up in each other, long after their party has ended and their friends have gone home, telling each other stories of summers to come and memories yet to be made.

~*~

I have loved writing this fic so much, and I don’t truly want to say goodbye. Which is why if you ever want a futuretake with these two, I will be more than happy to take prompts. ALSO, in case you hadn’t seen, I started a new Rowaelin fic called I Don’t Want To Wait (linked the masterlist).

Per usual, if you’d like to be added to my TOG taglist, please message me HERE.

TAG LIST:

@thewayshedreamed​

@b00kworm​

@alifletcher2012​

@aknymph​

@the-third-me​

@mymultiversee​

@superspiritfestival​

@empress-ofbloodshed​

@http-itsrebecca​

@queen-of-glass​

@but-she-was-aelin-galathynius​

@westofmoon​

@bilkul-sharam-nahi-aati​

@iliketoasterstrudels​

@bamchickawowow​

@hizqueen4life​

@faerie-queen-fireheart​

@giorgia-the-trashpanda​

@acourtofmoonlight​

@m-like-magic 

@rolltide7​

@wordsafterhours​

@amren-courtofdreams​

@alserath​

@tswaney17​

@jesstargaryenqueen​

@joyceortiz13​

@itsme-malin​

@aesthetics-11​

@keshavomit​

@alxanxah​

@but-she-was-aelin-galathynius​

@minaidss​

@meowsekai​

@deepdarktrashhole​

@samotita​

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​

@ehazzard7​

@cursebreaker29​

@flourishandblottsx​

@maastrash​

@nishlicious-01​

@sailorsassley​

@aelin-queen-of-terrasen​

@anunforseeablereader​

@galyxsy

@greatwombatblaze​

@queenofbumblebees​

@kaitlynn1216​

@januarystears​

@officialasianbitch​

@jewel334​

@justgiu12​

@df3ndyr​

@l0sts0uls1128​

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​

@anniejulianneh111

@readystudyhike

@sjmships​

@studyliketate​

@iammissstark​

@maybekindasortaace​

@dean-winchesters-impala-1967​

@heirofthenightcourt​

@sleeping-and-books​

@acourtofmarauders​

@cmoff1​

@stardelia​

@alyx801​

@verryberriess​

@viajandosinalas​

@grace-k-sterling​

@tottenhamboys20​

@throne-of-frost​

[the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff]

The Song of the Sea

I finally got around to writing this. I’m so excited  :DD.  Story was inspired by this post

Remus cringed when the wooden boards creaked softly beneath his bare feet. He really did not want to wake Julian up, but he needed to get out of their room. He managed to reach the window without waking his brother up, he sat on the window frame and jumped the small distance between the window and the ground, his feet landing softly on the floor. 

 He did this a lot, sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to be alone. He liked going to the beach and just sitting there, the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea helping him relax.

 That wasn’t his main reason to go tonight. He wanted to figure out a little mystery, something had happened the last time he had gone down to the water’s edge at night. Because for however brief and soft it had been, Remus could have sworn he heard the Song of the Sea.

 He had grown up hearing whispers of it from his bedroom. Remus knew that most who heard it never came back, and those who did come back always told weird stories of what they had seen, but that night was the first time he had heard it so clearly. 

Remus hadn’t seen anything, hadn’t felt anything other than a comfortable calmness settling over him. At one point he had gotten up and gone back home, he hadn’t been to the beach since then and it was driving him crazy. He wanted to hear it again, the song was the most beautiful thing Remus had ever heard, it had been soft and melodic and left him feeling warm and safe. 

He kept walking, trying to keep his steps silent. Remus stuck to the shadows as he sneaked past the other houses in their village. When his feet touched the sand he started running towards the water. He walked into the water until it reached his knees, not caring that his clothes were getting wet.

Remus breathed in the salty air, the familiar feeling of sand and water making him relax. After a moment he walked out of the water and sat down in the wet sand, the dying waves lapping at his feet. He leaned back on his elbows and let his head fall back so that he could see the stars. 

He had just found the Northern star when he heard a melody being hummed. He sat up straight, his eyes scanning the coastline for signs of anyone who could be singing. There was no one there, or at least no one that Remus could see. 

“Hello”. Remus’s voice sounded too loud in the silent night. “Is someone there?”

His mind was already getting foggy. Remus had a fleeting thought that maybe he should be panicking, but he didn’t. He felt safe, even though his mind was getting too slow for comfort. He was vaguely aware that the singing was getting progressively louder. 

“You know your voice is lovely, but I think it’s making me a little tired”, he said trying to bite back a yawn. 

Remus stumbled when he tried to get up, his feet taking him into the water seemingly on their own accord. Again he thought that maybe he should be panicking that maybe coming here was a terrible idea, but all he could think of clearly was to get under water. 

The water reached his stomach when his feet stopped moving. He looked down into the water, it was dark, he could barely see anything other than the reflections of the full moon and the stars. A soft gasp left his lungs when he felt something graze his leg. When he looked down he could see a dark silhouette swimming under the surface. 

He watched the silhouette moving towards him and felt something wrap around his ankle before being yanked down. A startled noise left his lips before Remus felt his head go under, the fog that had taken over his mind leaving at the shock of the cold water. 

The salty water stung in his eyes when he opened them, but he needed to see what had dragged him under. He was met with a pair of grey eyes, high cheekbones, and dark hair. He almost gasped before remembering that he was under water. Remus was starting to feel the burn in his lungs from not being able to breathe, but he couldn’t move.

 “Well, aren’t you a pretty face”, the dark haired stranger said. Remus’s shock must have been obvious on his face because the stranger laughed. 

Whatever shock was written across his face switched to panic when he felt his body trying to take a breath. He tried to swim up to the surface but his limbs were numb. 

A look of confusion crossed the stranger’s face before something seemed to click into place in his mind. He grabbed Remus by the hand and dragged him upward. Remus came out of the water gasping for air, his mind in a state of panic. 

“Gods, I am so sorry. I keep forgetting you humans can’t actually breathe under there. Are you ok?” The stranger sounded worried.

Remus managed to find his footing in the sand. The water wasn’t all that high, if he stood up it would still be at level with his stomach, but he decided he would sit on his knees to be leveled with the stranger. 

“Am I ok?” Remus’s tone was something between sarcastic and disbelieving. “Of course I’m not ok. You just dragged me under really cold water for a long ass time. I can’t breathe under water.” 

“I’m sorry”, the stranger hung his head in shame, his black hair covering half his face. 

Remus only felt a little bad about snapping at him. After all, the stranger had almost drowned him. 

“Wait”- a sudden realization had hit Remus- “were you the one singing that melody earlier?” 

“Yes”, the stranger answered like that was supposed to be obvious, “come on, I thought you humans were supposed to be smart.” 

“I- no. No. You know what? You can’t give me any shit for not deducing it was you singing when you literally almost drowned me less than five minutes ago.” 

The dark haired man flinched at Remus’s tone. “I already apologized for that”, he muttered. 

“Whatever just-”, he sighed and rubbed his hand down his face, salty water falling on his lips, “what’s your name?” 

The stranger looked surprised at the question. “Sirius”, he answered, “what’s yours?” 

“I’m Remus”. 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Remus”, Sirius said smiling at him. 

“I wish I could say the same”- Remus sighed dramatically- “but you did almost drown me.” 

Sirius barked out a laugh, Remus following soon after with his own. “What else was I supposed to do to get your attention”. 

“Why would you want to get my attention?” Remus was confused.

Sirius shrugged before answering. “I thought you were cute.” 

Remus blushed at the compliment. He composed himself before speaking again. “You try to kill all the cute guys you see”.  

“Nah, only the ones that I like”, Sirius said in the most casual tone he could muster. In reality he was very nervous. He had wanted to see this guy again since he had first seen him a few nights ago. 

Remus let himself give Sirius a once over. He noticed a few important things, like the fact that the guy was shirtless and that he didn’t have legs. Instead he had a black tail with flecks of silver scales. 

Remus made a non-committal hum before focusing his gaze back to Sirius’s face. “Guess all the crazy tales aren’t all that crazy”. 

Sirius had been studying Remus as well. He looked to be around his own age, maybe a bit younger. His hair had started to dry already, the salt of the water making it curl over his ears. He had warm amber eyes that reflected the glow of the full moon making them look golden. Sirius decided that he looked even more beautiful from up close. 

“I should get going. It’s getting late and if my father finds out I snuck out again I’m gonna be doing my chores and Julian’s for a month”. Remus was sad that he had to go. He really liked spending time in the water. 

Sirius tried to hide his disappointment at hearing that. “Will you come back soon?” He didn’t want Remus to go, he wanted to spend more time with him. 

“As long as you don’t almost drown me again.” Remus sounded more amused than annoyed. 

“I would never. I don’t think I could live without being able to look at your pretty face”. 

Remus rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his cheeks pink. “Don’t be such a flirt”. 

Sirius laughed. Remus had already started swimming back to the shore, but he hadn’t turned away yet, eyes still focused on Sirius. 

“See you tomorrow, hopefully”, Remus said, waving at Sirius, before turning away to swim to the coast. 

“Good bye”. Sirius really hoped he would see him again. He wanted to see him blush again and make him laugh. 

Remus reached the shore and looked back to where Sirius was. He waved at him, and watched Sirius wave back before heading back home. 

Laying down on his bed, staring up at the blank ceiling, Remus smiled. Even though Sirius had almost drowned him, he was fun to be around. God knows Remus needed more friends, even if they came in the form of a siren that he would probably only see during his midnight expeditions. 

At some point Remus had started to drift off into sleep, and if he dreamt of silver eyes and crystal waters, no one was the wiser.  

[crystalirises]

in regards to ur recent post—i have been waiting so so long for someone to mention that song in relation to Fundy and i wanna hear u elaborate on how well it fits cuz ur thoughts are interesting 👀👀

Hello anon! And yeah I tried to explain why the song fits although I might not get some points across since I'm not ver articulate with my thoughts. I also apologize for responding so late since I actually posted my post at like... Past midnight so I wasn't able to respond immediately. But anyway, here's the sort of lyric analysis (??? Is this right lol) of why Not Your Seed is a Fundy song. And I mean Character Fundy not the actual person. So the Fundy mentioned here is the character.

This is long because it's me lol.

TW: brief mention of drugs, brief mention of sex (cause it's literally part of a song lyric and quite honestly I don't even want to talk about that kinda stuff), a lot of parental neglect, insane!Wilbur Soot, and possible cheating (cause Fundywastaken is mentioned). Stay safe everyone and please read the trigger warnings.

I'm not your girl anymore

I'm not that tween that you drove here for

I'm not your girl anymore

I overtook her body with an infectious spore

Okay, first of the first part of the song doesn't make sense out of the context of the musical (obviously). However if we kinda try to look at this in a "metaphorical" sense, it just gives off the message of Fundy not being the person who he used to be. If we were to say that Fundy was a kid during the first war, it's like a way to saying that he's no longer than innocent kid that he used to be. And for the "infectious spore" thing, if taken metaphorically, could mean the bitterness and anger that Fundy feels against the rest of the server (or at least against Wilbur) for the way they've treated him. Those bitter feelings have led him to just doing things that he would have never done (such as the 'blowing up L'Manburg's supply thing before the Doomsday War').

Also AU where Fundy gets infected the red egg and Wilbur gets ressurected I guess.

You left me out of your sight for one second

And look what happens, nightmare time

It's worse than you could imagine

Not sex and not drugs

Just alien invading minds

Okay for the first two lyrics, we all know very well that Wilbur did not look away for a second (he looked away for an entire damn arc is what he did lol). So essentially, from that first line it just implies that Wilbur (and I say Wilbur mostly cause 'Not Your Seed' is literally a daughter singing this to her father song) looked away from Fundy. Except, Wilbur looked away or ignored Fundy for a very long time, enough so that the last time Fundy saw Wilbur alive was Wilbur pretty much calling him a traitor and then promptly ignoring until he can back as Ghostbur. Which then leads to the second line since that neglect left some impressions on Fundy even after Wilbur was gone.

For the next three lines, combining the first two lines together, the usual fears that a parent would have regarding their children are well... Them engaging in sex and drugs (well the drugs is debatable cause Wilbur literally made a drug van so). However, Wilbur's issues regarding were never those matters but instead he had to deal with the aftermath of his emotional neglect that Fundy gained from Wilbur's parenting. As for the last line "Just alien invading minds," again does not make sense out of the context of the musical. However, metaphorically it could be seen as like... "alien" as in "different/outside emotions" that Fundy had never felt before (am I reaching XD). Essentially, negative emotions that Fundy had never felt before (or at least witheld for a very long time) have pretty much engulfed Fundy's mind and kinda led him down a terrible path.

No more family vacays together

'Cause your only daughter's under the weather

And if you actually paid attention to me

Okay, I have to admit that the first two lines are kinda out of the Fundy interpretation thing and I guess if someone wanted to, just alternate the family vacays to family hangouts since... They never took vacays lol. As for the second line, one could interpret it as just well Fundy drifting away from Wilbur... Essentially, he's sick of Wilbur. (This is reaching and I know that XD).

But it's the third line here that's definitely a Fundy line. "And if you actually paid attention to me," is a line that I believe embodies Fundy to an extent. Yes, Wilbur was there for Fundy and one could argue that whe was a doting father but that does not necessarily mean he was a good one. Wilbur was there for Fundy but he never paid attention to him, if anything, he babied Fundy. During the war? Babied him. During the time L'Manburg gained independence? Babied him. During the election arc? Babied him. Wilbur was there but he never listened to Fundy, he never saw Fundy as anything more than a child. There are many ways that a parent could be neglectful towards their children and I believe that though Wilbur was very doting he was not very attentive towards what Fundy had to say (and this is only hitting the beginning, I haven't even gotten to the "I despise you" part of the Pogtopia Arc.)

You'd see, I'm not your seed

I'm not your angsty teen

No matter what you believe

The apple's fallen far from the tree

Alright so for the first two lines, these could easily be equated to the fact that Wilbur, again, babies Fundy. What especially strikes me is the fact that Wilbur refers to Fundy's creation of Coconut 2020 and his sudden change of clothes to Fundy being in his teenage rebellious phase. Wilbur thinks that Fundy is just being rebellious and it's really just Fundy trying to separate himself from just being Wilbur's son and finding a way to make his dad proud via his own accomplishments, essentially finding something to get Wilbur's acknowledgement or approval while also doing something for himself. This line is like Fundy refuting the idea that everything he's done is just him going through an angsty teenage rebellious phase when he wasn't going through one in the first place.

For the third and fourth lines, I honestly think this represents Fundy's way of trying to separate himself as being known as Wilbur's son. He doesn't want to just be acknowledged as that, he wants to be more than his father's son. He wants to be his own person. In all honesty, I'd like to think that this is Fundy actually saying this to himself. He truly wants to believe that he's being independent but at the same time he's still looking for Wilbur's approval. No matter how much he wants to be his own man, he still looks to Wilbur because at the end of the day he wants to prove himself to Wilbur while also wanting to be independent. It's odd but it's kind of understandable. It's difficult to try and step out of somebody's shadow without turning around to see if they actually notice what you're doing. Fundy is like that. At least he was, and probably still is (with Phil before the whole breakdown arc).

It's not my fault anymore

No more curfews to be late for

It's not my fault anymore

No more being worried and waiting by the door

Again, these four lines are essentially just normal parent-child stuff. Children usually have curfews on when they should be home and parents tend to wait by the doors everytime their kid is a little bit late to arriving home. The thing about this kind of thing tho, if it was something that happened during the L'Manburg war, Fundy would have definitely felt constricted within the walls of L'Manburg. It wouldn't have been easy to just leave the safety of L'Manburg since the enemy could literally be waiting outside to ambush anyone they could. So, if character Fundy were the type of person to occasionally leave L'Manburg (and I believe he would be), he'd definitely feel guilty at times since it would have been very stressful for Wilbur. It's the middle of a war, Wilbur's a general and a father (tho he definitely he focused on one more than the other) and the least Fundy should be doing is to just stay within the walls. So, in a scenario where Fundy occasionally leaves L'Manburg, he would definitely feel guilty and blame himself for adding any unnecessary stress to Wilbur...

Again tho, this is an imagined scenario since this never really occured within the actual storyline... But then again Wilbur did claim the walls as "The wall I built to keep him (Fundy) safe." So it probably did happen and Fundy would have probably felt guilty for just leaving every now and then. Although Wilbur would have a point (it's literally the middle of a war), Fundy would have wanted to see the outside world and not have been forced to stay within the confines of L'Manburg (Fundy would have some slight fault here, that should be noted.)

Like I said, this is more of an imagined scenario that may or may not have occured.

Did you know that I wanted to live with you? (Look what happens, nightmare time)

O-ooh

And when you needed to fight, you gave her that too (aliens invading minds)

Ah-ooh

Alright so the first line really hits me since "live" could almost sound like "leave" (I know they're pronounced different don't @ me). For this piece of line, it sounds like a confrontation between Fundy and insane!Wilbur (Wilbur in Pogtopia Arc). At the very beginning of Schlatt's Administration, Fundy had always made it clear to at least himself (and Eret) that he was a spy on the inside. Fundy - at the beginning - didn't support Schlatt's administration at all. So if one were to think of the line with the word "leave" instead of "live," it gives off the context that Fundy wanted to go with Wilbur and Tommy when they were exiled... But he didn't because he wanted to be a spy for them. Technically, you don't have to change "live" with "leave" cause it essentially means the same thing, it just feels more painful this way cause it implies that Fundy forced himself to stay even if he didn't want to. Tis sad times for Fundy's hidden spy arc.

As for the third line, in the context of the musical this is referring to Bill (the father) essentially giving up custody of his daughter Alice to her mother. Of course in Fundy's case that doesn't work. But if this line were to be though of in a metaphorical way, it could come out as something else. "And when you needed to fight, you gave her that too." Think of it as Wilbur choosing L'Manburg over Fundy. Wilbur never "fought" for Fundy. Pet war? Nope. Tommy publicly disowning him? Nope. People calling Fundy a furry despite him being an anthromorphic fox (and as far as I'm aware, this is canon)? Nope. Schlatt hitting Fundy with a bottle during the November 16th war? Nope. Wilbur never cared enough to defend his son, but he was always ready to fight for L'Manburg.

Did you know mom let Deb sleep over?

And you're right about Deb - she's a hardcore stoner

And if you wonder what led your daughter astray

Well, daddy wasn't here to stay

... listen *gets bonked* Okay, serious interpretation first before I make the crack joke. This line really doesn't work cause this is essentially Alice (the daughter) talking about Deb (her girlfriend) who Bill (the father) does not really like. If anything, I'd like to say that... Change these lines to Fundy admitting that Schlatt is actually doing a great job as president? (Let's all be honest, Fundy at one point did express that he thought Schlatt was a good president). So yeah just Fundy admitting that Schlatt is a good president even though he is an alcoholic.

("Did you know Schlatt let Dre sleep over?

And you were right about Dre - he's a hardcore liar.")

For the last two lines. I imagine this could be said to two versions of Wilbur. If we're talking about insane!Wilbur then this is just a confrontation of how Wilbur pretty much just left Fundy in a hostile country where he was forced to adapt unless he wanted to get executed like Tubbo or imprisoned like Niki. There's a reason why Schlatt asked Fundy about his parentage and his association with Wilbur. As such, Fundy had to learn how to be another person because Wilbur left.

Another way to interpret this is Fundy telling it to Ghostbur. The reason why Fundy is bitter and the way he is is because Wilbur left him... Both emotionally and physically, the man died and they were never able to resolve their issues before Wilbur died. Fundy is the way he is because Wilbur never stayed to resolve their issues. The line "Well, daddy wasn't here to stay" really hits how Fundy is influenced by what Wilbur did, and Fundy is still looking for that one person - the one person - who would stay for him. His dad didn't stay for him, his grandfather stay, Eret did not go to the adoption, and his best friend (Ranboo???) didn't stay... Everyone has left him and that hurts him since that is exactly what Wilbur did and it still continues to haunt him even after Wilbur is dead and gone.

Not your seed

I'm not your perfect teen

I'm fucking sevente-en

At least I was before you left me

With the first two lines, I suppose one could say that this is how Wilbur saw Fundy. "I'm not your perfect teen," is one way that Wilbur could've seen Fundy or at least how he forced himself to see Fundy as. Since the beginning of the L'Manburg War, he regarded Fundy as a child and during the Election Arc he regarded Fundy as a rebellious teenager... But with slight endearment. Like he's honestly amused by Fundy's sudden show of rebellion... It's only when Fundy sides with Quackity that Wilbur begins to realize that Fundy is serious about the whole separating-himself-from-Wilbur thing and even then continues to look at Fundy condescendingly, especially when Fundy ran for presidency. And, although this is my own interpretation, that part of the Election Arc where Fundy wanted to run for the presidency too and Wilbur just allowed it after a moment of awkward silence, feels like a parent who just decided to concede with their child's wishes cause it's amusing and "hey, what's the harm in letting the kid have what he wants?" But... Fundy is not the kid that Wilbur sees him as at all, but Wilbur can't get over that and it even translates over to the way Ghostbur looks and regards Fundy as.

As for the last two lines, there are two ways this could be interpreted as. In the first interpretation, don't look at the age but at the context. Fundy was a kid who was born and grew up in a war-torn country, Wilbur may have been there physically but he had long since emotionally left Fundy since Wilbur was busy with the war effort to really be there for Fundy. Fundy, like Tommy and Tubbo, was forced to grow up because it was a war and they had no choice but to grow if they wanted to survive. The second interpretation is... A bit sadder. I don't really know what Fundy's age is. Like... Is he older than Tommy or Tubbo but how was he born in L'Manburg then??? But confusion aside. If we were to assume that Fundy was 14 during the Election Arc (as Ghostbur said but he's unreliable) or at least Fundy was a teen at that point of time, Wilbur left his son in an enemy country (though of course not any initial fault of his own since he was exiled XD). Fundy - like in the first interpretation - was forced to grow up and adapt because Schlatt could have literally just killed him for being Wilbur's son.

Why does it hurt to love you?

Why am I in pain?

Why does it hurt to know you?

You'll let me down again

If I turned my insides out, would you even know that I was there?

Ah ;-; the lines that make me cry.

Alright so I can definitely say that all of these lines are just relatable to Fundy. "Why does it hurt to love you?" Fundy does probably care a whole lot about Wilbur but with this care and love comes the pain of how Wilbur emotionally neglected and disrespected him. Fundy loves Wilbur. He does. But it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. He still recognizes Wilbur as his father to some degree and does love the Wilbur that was his dad, but with everything that's happened, loving Wilbur has become too painful for him to bear. Everytime he tries, it just feels like a stab to the heart since he's reminded of how absent Wilbur truly was in his life.... Even if Ghostbur tried to be there for Fundy, it doesn't erase the pain that Wilbur inflicted when he was alive.

For the second line, "Why am I in pain?" Fundy's character is undeniably one of the most tragic characters (at least from my perspective). The guy has been through a lot and even if this line isn't supported by the first, it still indicates that Fundy has suffered a lot (and yes a lot of characters have suffered too and I am not invalidating any of the other characters). He's hurting. And to be honest, they're all hurting. Everyone has their own ways of coping, and Fundy is honestly quite lost in what he should be doing. He's still reeling from everything, enough so that he canonically took a break and left the DSMP altogether (yes it was canonised that his character had taken a break).

For the following lines, I'd like to think this is directed to Ghostbur. "Why does it hurt to know you?" It feels like Fundy meeting Wilbur - or at least a version of Wilbur - after everything that's happened. He knows the real Wilbur and although Ghostbur reminds him of the father that he used to have, he can't just forget what the real Wilbur did. It hurts to not be able to move on even though he has a second chance with Ghostbur. It hurts because everytime he sees Ghostbur he'll just be reminded that Ghostbur is nothing more than a remnant of a once broken man. He knows Wilbur, he knew the real Wilbur. And it hurts to not be able to move on from the real Wilbur. The reason why it feels like something Fundy would say to Ghostbur is furthe remphasized by the next line in the song.

"You'll let me down again." That is definitely something that Fundy would say or at least feel towards Ghostbur. He wants to get to know this new version of his father, he wants to... But he can't. Cause again there's still that underlying fear of Ghostbur just messing up again and further hurting Fundy. In a way, Ghostbur did in fact hurt Fundy and he did in fact let Fundy down again. The issue with Ghostbur is that he refused to acknowledged the problems that he inflicted to everyone around him. When Fundy confronted him, Ghostbur ignored it. He ran away. So yeah, Fundy couldn't let himself know Ghostbur because Ghostbur would have and did let him down again.

Finally, the last line, "If I turned my insides out, would you even know that I was there?" As we've already seen, Fundy has tried to gain Wilbur's attention and acknowledgement in the past. First, with the running for presidency and secondly, with the spying for Pogtopia thing. Fundy has gone - and would have possibly gone to even worse - to great lengths just to gain Wilbur's approval. This line just shows the desperation that Fundy had just so he could get his father's approval. He tried to be independent, but it didn't work. He tried to help his father against Schlatt, it didn't work. He went so far as to burn the flag down since he wanted to get into Schlatt's good graces so he could be a better spy. He went to great lengths for Wilbur's acknowledgement... But he never got it, at least, not in the way that he wanted to.

Why does it hurt to love you?

Why does it hurt to love?

For the first line, "Why does it hurt to love you?" it just really shows how painful it is for Fundy to try and love a father who was barely even there for him. He does love Wilbur - as I said before - but loving Wilbur comes with a lot of pain (as I'm sure even other characters affiliated with Wilbur can attest). Wilbur went crazy before he died and he wasn't the best father towards Fundy and though Fundy still holds on to some semblance of love for the man he once saw as his dad, he still feels hurt over everything that's happened. Wilbur is a sore and touchy subject for many people within the story, not even just Fundy. They all suffer at the thought of Wilbur... At least, Alivebur.

Ohhhh... Like...this is obvious. The second line is obvious for Fundy XD. Because: his father was barely there, his possible last words to Fundy were "I despise you," and then he died and came back as a ghost who straight up ignores all the problems that he caused when he was alive, his grandfather disowned him, his fiancé broke up and possibly cheated on him (if you consider fwt canon), his best friend called him a coward and left, his home got destroyed thrice, Eret never showed up for the adoption, and he went through a breakdown arc in which it was so bad that he left to take a break from everything that happened. Everything that he's ever loved just finds a way to hurt him.

I'm not your seed (not your girl, not your girl)

Now maybe you'll listen to me (listen to me, listen to me)

Or do you let me bleed? (let me bleed)

Now your daughter's not a girl no more (girl no more, girl no more)

Now that Fundy's gone through a possible recovery arc (since he canonically left the server for one year or was it fours years?), he's probably more well-adjusted to everything else. If Wilbur does indeed get ressurected at some point. This is a way of like showing how Wilbur and Fundy may interact. (Also, I know it could also sound like Villain Fundy but I honestly have moved on from that particular thing and just want Fundy to recover). "Now maybe you'll listen to me," is just Fundy trying to confront Wilbur after everything except this time Fundy has recovered enough to actually speak to Wilbur without getting mad or upset once Wilbur refuses to acknowledge anything's wrong. Still, this is just in the case where Wilbur is ressurected and Fundy is recovered enough to confront Wilbur for everything that's happened.

So for these last lines, I'll only focus on the third line which is "Or do you let me bleed?" If Fundy and ressurected!Wilbur do interact, there are two possible ways for that to go. Wilbur either acknowledges and apologizes for what he did wrong, Fundy apologizes for the things he also did (come on, burning the flag, tearing down the walls, and disowning Wilbur is very painful regardless of what Fundy was trying to accomplish), and they both learn to accept the past and move on so they can beat that stupid egg (red egg, my beloved) and maybe Dream. Or... Wilbur could just ignore Fundy all over again and refuse to acknowledge what he did wrong. Hopefully this time, Fundy would be recovered enough to just realize that Wilbur is never gonna change and that Fundy needs to move on from Wilbur. So, yes. In this possible scenario, Wilbur and Fundy could either make up ("Now maybe you'll listen to me") or Wilbur refuses to acknowledge anything that went wrong and Fundy moves on by himself ("Or do you let me bleed?") Again, this is just a possible scenario.

Not at all your seed!

Cause I'm not your girl anymore

Just, well, further emphasis that Fundy isn't the same person he used to be and he never will be again. Like everyone else, he's gone through a lot. He's different, he's changed.

----------------------------------------------------------

So yeah... I am so sorry to the anon if this is just so confusing or me rambling and I'm pretty sure you didn't ask for a damn essay. But ye... Have this... Sorry if it’s not the analysis you wanted tho ;-;

Apologies tho if this seems confusing and I would gladly clear things up if there's some points that are confusing.

So...ye... Have fun with this

(what do I tag this as, pls help—)

[slippinmickeys]

Five Seconds (5/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here.

October 15, 2018

The leaves were beginning to change outside the window; the maples turning russet, the birch yellow. Scully felt pendulous and gravid, the child in her belly more active than her previous two combined. Sleep was becoming difficult, but by day they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, safe and unmolested from the dangers that were beginning to feel as though they had never existed at all.

She stretched and left Mulder, half his face obscured by his pillow, his lips soft and pliant in sleep. A fresh pot of decaf awaited her in the kitchen, its automatic timer set by Mulder late last night.

The kids were still asleep, as far as she could tell -- she'd heard Lily come home well after midnight. She'd been up reading anyway when her daughter had popped her head into their bedroom door and whispered "I'm home." The girl had been wearing a small smile and Scully recognized the look. Lily was falling in love.

Will shuffled into the kitchen sleepily, a palm rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He approached Scully where she stood at the counter and put an arm around her shoulder, leaning on her. He still smelled like the sleepy little boy who liked to cuddle into her side to watch nature shows when he was six.

"Morning Mom," he said, taking a snuffly breath. He leaned down and rested his cheek against her head (he was almost as tall as Mulder, though still as skinny as a maypole). Scully wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him in closer. Affection from her kids was getting fewer and farther between now that they were active teenagers. She was determined to enjoy whatever she got.

"Morning," she said, giving his back a little rub, "you're up early."

"Yeah," he said on a yawn. "There's an open rink this morning and a couple of buddies are going. Is it okay if I join them?"

Scully nodded. "Just make sure you tell your dad, too. Know the exits before you go and keep an eye on the crowd."

Will squeezed her once and then let go, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and holding up like James Bond. "Call me Double O Billy," he said and sidled back to his room off of Scully's bemused chuckle.

She spent an hour catching up on email that had been routed through the Gunmen and Darlene -- coded messages that they interpreted and sent to her mother, sister and brothers. Melissa was giving her a hard time about not letting her fly to Europe (where she thought they were) to be her doula when the time came to give birth. She was tempted to send Byers to her sister's house to explain exactly what was happening, but rejected the impulse. Their mother -- the only person other than the Gunmen and the X-Files triumvirate at the FBI who knew their situation (though not their location for her own protection) -- would talk her down eventually.

Mulder came padding up behind her as she closed the laptop and she felt a soft, drawn-out kiss on the side of her neck.

"Morning," he mumbled into her skin.

She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, then turned to receive his kiss.

"Morning," she said.

"I’ll be back shortly. I'm going to drop Billy off at the ice complex and then take Lil to campus -- she suddenly started liking football."

"I think it's the company rather than the sport," Scully said, turning in her chair to face him.

"...I'm going to choose to believe my version," he said.

Scully reached out and linked their fingers briefly. "Tell her to be careful," she said, "she's spending a lot of time out of the house."

Mulder nodded and squeezed her fingers. "I will," he said, "and when I get back, I have a few ideas for how we can spend our child-free afternoon." He waggled his eyebrows at her and let go, backing out of the room like the charmer he was.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“So why UVA?” Travis asked her. He had his head propped up on an elbow and his other hand was wrapped loosely around her foot, his thumb rubbing circles into her arch. She was on the couch in his dorm room and he was on the floor -- she’d been helping him study for mid-terms. They had been officially dating for five weeks and had seen each other at least every other day in that time. He’d introduced her to a couple of friends as his girlfriend.

“What?” she asked. It was hard enough to concentrate while getting a foot massage, and she’d been staring at the index cards in front of her, trying to find a question that would stump him.

“Why are you going to UVA? Brain like yours, you could have gone anywhere. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why there.”

“Other than the in-state tuition?” She had told him that they’d moved from Virginia, but hadn’t elaborated.

“Other than that,” he smiled.

“I’ve always wanted to. When I was a kid, my dad would occasionally get called in to consult there and he would take me with him. I kinda fell in love with it.”

“What did your dad consult on?” he asked, “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

Travis tapped her other leg, and she switched feet, silencing a groan when his knuckle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

She had purposely avoided mentioning her family much and debated how much was safe to share.

“UVA has a Department of Perceptual Studies,” she said, and she saw him tilt his head in question.

“A department of what?”

“Perceptual studies,” she said, smiling, “it’s a research group devoted to the investigation of phenomena that challenge mainstream scientific paradigms regarding the nature of the mind/brain relationship.” Travis stopped rubbing her foot and looked at her. She went on, further quoting her dad’s friend Dr. Stevenson: “Their mission is the scientific empirical investigation of phenomena that suggest that currently accepted scientific assumptions and theories about the nature of mind or consciousness, and its relation to matter, may be incomplete.”

“You’re shitting me,” he said.

“I shit you not.”

“What kind of phenomena?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She tried not to smile, “ESP, poltergeists, near-death experiences, out-of-body experiences, claimed memories of past lives.”

“And what did they want with your father?” he asked, sitting up.

She shrugged. “He’s a shrink,” she said, being deliberately vague.

“This is an accredited university?” He teased her. She kicked at him, and he ducked out of the way and laughed, then looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, I myself had an out-of-body experience with Trudy Carmichael under the bleachers when I was sixteen. Pretty sure I saw through time.”

Lily chuckled, then playfully challenged: “Do I need to worry about this Trudy Carmichael?”

“I doubt it,” he said, hanging his head, “I lost my virginity, and she lost my number. Not my finest hour.”

“A whole hour?,” Lily said wryly.

“One way to find out.”

He looked at her then and she looked back. The moment was charged and sat in between them. The truth was, Lily was still a virgin. She and Travis had messed around, but fairly innocently, and she’d demurred on action below the waist/under the clothes. “I’m not waiting for marriage,” she’d told him a few weeks back, but she did want to wait for love. If only she knew what that felt like.

“Hey, Frisbee,” Travis said when she didn’t say anything, “please don’t take this as a negotiation tactic -- you’ve been clear on your limits and I totally respect that -- and with the full understanding that you don’t need a reason, and you do you and all that -- but… do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what exactly?” she asked, clarifying.

“When I say ‘no pressure,’ I mean it,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her foot.

Lily looked around his sloppy dorm room. There were clothes strewn about, though mostly out of the way— socks balled up near the laundry hamper, a sweatshirt hanging on the back of a chair. The wooden loft that held his bed was posted around the couch, made of flimsy-looking two-by-fours, and did not look like it could hold his weight, much less hers in addition, and remained untried (though Travis swore it had passed inspection). His desk was more fastidiously kept, a reflection of his mind, a structured order in the midst of chaos. He was kind and smart. His smile could make her insides go liquid.

“Honestly?” she finally said, “it’s my parents.”

“Super religious?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from laughing. “No, it’s… My parents love each other. More than anyone I’ve ever known. Their love is like… romance film love. It’s practically written in the stars.”

He looked at her contemplatively. “That’s a lot to live up to,” he said. “Is that what it is?”

“Yes,” she said, then, “no.” It was and it wasn’t. She didn’t know if there was a love out there that could compare, she suspected there wasn’t. Her real hang-up, and she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head since she found her father’s first wedding picture in their attic -- was that her father had obviously made a mistake. What if she did too?

She laughed, annoyed at herself. This wasn’t Regency England. Sex didn’t mean marriage. It didn’t even necessarily mean love. Still...

“Come on,” she said, sitting up and grabbing for his class notes, “this bio exam isn’t going to take itself.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

A sound woke her. Her hips were in agony and sleeping was difficult, so initially she was more annoyed than anything; she could rarely line up more than 90 minutes straight of deep slumber. And then she heard it again.

She reached over, squeezed Mulder's bicep until she heard him sniff sharply awake and silently, pulled out the sidearm she kept inside her bedside table. Mulder, slipping out of bed without a word, pulled out his own gun and went to the door. He held up a hand, trying to tell Scully to stay back, but she shook her head angrily -- she would have his back whether he liked it or not.

When he moved into the hallway, she stepped on the back of his heel and he ended up ramming his shoulder into the doorframe. He swore low under his breath. They were out of sync.

She watched as he put his head into the kids rooms as he made his way down the hallway, nodding at her that they were both accounted for. One more thunk from the living room.

He sidled up to the wall that led to the room and backed up against it. He mouthed one-two-three and they went in, but where she usually went low and he went high, this time they rammed shoulders and stumbled into the room. Mulder flicked on the light when she finally had her weapon aimed true.

There, sitting on a high bookshelf sat Apgar, her black tail swishing merrily. Maintaining eye contact, she swiped one more of the professor's knick-knacks off the shelf and onto the floor.

Mulder dropped his weapon and heaved a sigh, tipping his head back in frustration. "Fucking cat," he hissed.

Mission completed, Apgar jumped down with a thump and weaved a figure eight between Mulder's legs.

"She must be hungry," Scully said.

"Hangry was invented by cats," Mulder mumbled, reaching down to pet the cat with his free hand.

"Our tactical coordination was atrocious," Scully said, flicking the light back off and holding her gun at her hip.

"Yes," Mulder agreed.

"When was the last time you went to the range?" she asked.

"It's been months," he said tiredly.

"We're going tomorrow," Scully said. Mulder knew better than to argue.

XxX

There were more than a few Molon Labe bumper stickers in the parking lot. Scully had to remind herself that they were in Michigan Militia territory. "Michitucky," she'd heard it called by a few guys at the Bureau. Nevertheless, she pulled up to the firing range with fire in her blood. She might not share their politics, but she would share their space, and show most of them up to boot.

They signed in and bought ammunition. She got a few extra looks for being a visibly pregnant woman, but most of the men (and they were all men) who were at the range gave her begrudging looks of approval. Mulder stood, standing straighter and closer than normal, practically growling at anyone who got too close. She had to admit that his fierce protective nature was more than a turn-on.

The range was outdoors -- different than what they were used to at Quantico. And where there were metal tables and dividers and state of the art equipment at the government facility, here it was all beat-to-shit plywood tables and sunburnt grass littered with shell casings and old ear plugs. They took the lane at the end.

They both loaded and checked their weapons, snugged earmuffs over their heads.

"You want to go first?" Mulder asked, double checking the safety on his pistol and setting it on the table behind their station.

"I can do that," Scully said, looking down at her Sig.

"Care for a little wager?" her husband asked.

"You can't afford me, Dr. Mulder," she said, admiring the still-lanky line of his physique.

He raised his eyebrows, and leaned back against the tall wobbly table. "Oh-ho," he said, "I suppose that depends on the currency." He had a smug look about him that she wanted to wipe off his face. She was a better marksman and more competitive than anyone gave her credit for.

"What are you offering?" she asked.

"Dishes?" he offered, "Laundry?"

"We had children for the menial labor," she challenged, "I can win this with one hand tied behind my back. Make it interesting for me."

He licked his lips. She had him.

"I liked the part about 'hands behind the back,'" he said, "Winner decides who wears the handcuffs."

"You're not exactly incentivizing this, Mulder."

He had a flushed look about him; his nostrils flared.

"Prove it," he said, and she felt a flush. Second trimester hormones could be a beautiful thing, she mused.

It took her several rounds before she got back into the groove. It actually had been too long since she'd practiced and she was rusty. Considering their current situation, she ought not to let it happen again. Her last few rounds were dead center. Once her clip was empty, she cleared her weapon and stepped back.

Mulder's turn.

He wasn't quite as out of practice as she was initially, which irritated her to no end. However, his fourth and fifth shots were a bit wide, and he ended around the edges.

When he was clear, she stepped back up and took a bracing breath. She raised her weapon and fired rapidly; all her shots were center mass except the last two, which she swung up and finished with perfect shots to the head of the paper dummy.

When Mulder stepped forward for his turn, she nudged him.

"How big would you say the back of the Yukon is?'" she asked casually.

His first three shots went wide.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 17, 2018

“Mom?” Lily asked. There was a hesitancy in her voice that made Scully look up from where she was chopping vegetables for dinner. “How did you know you loved Dad?”

Scully set the knife down and turned toward her daughter. “That’s a big question, Lil.”

“What’s a big question?” Mulder came breezing into the kitchen, shooting Scully an intrigued look.

Scully suspected something was up, but didn’t want to embarrass their daughter. Lily had always had an inquisitive streak and would occasionally come to Scully with problems or questions, but she was apt to clam up when pressed.

“Lily was asking me about how I fell in love with you,” Scully said, trying to catch Mulder’s eye.

“It was the day she met me, no doubt,” Mulder said. He grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter and shined it on his sleeve before taking a snappy bite. “I’m catnip to the ladies,” he said around the mouthful. Lily smiled. Scully rolled her eyes.  

“Suddenly, I’m struggling to remember,” Scully said with mock derision. Mulder gave her a cheeky grin.

“Did you know right away?” Lily asked.

Scully paused. “Not… Not right away,” she said thoughtfully.

Lily looked back and forth between her parents. “I guess it was a long time ago, huh.”

“Love in a time of sarsaparilla,” Mulder said dreamily. Scully shook her head and he caught her eye. “It wasn’t that long ago, Lil,“ he went on, and Scully felt the low bloom of feeling that always accompanied a look from her husband. For as long as she lived, she would always remember the first time she felt it; on the Tooms case, when he’d hooked his finger in her necklace and pulled.

“No, what I mean is… it was complicated,” Scully clarified.

Lily nodded and turned to her father. “You were married. Before Mom.”

“Yes,” Mulder said.

“Did you love her? Your ex wife?”

“I thought I did.”

“When did you figure out that you didn’t?” Lily asked.

“When I met your Mom,” Mulder said.

“So what you felt with Mom…”

“... was so much bigger than I was, that I couldn’t contain it.”

Scully felt her eyes well up. Mulder still sometimes had the ability to make her feel things all the way down to her toes.

Lily smiled, but looked pensive.

"But you thought you loved this other woman? I mean, enough to marry her?" she asked.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "What are you asking, Lil?"

Lily shook her head, her cheeks pink. She grabbed a soda from the fridge and walked out of the room.

“Oh boy,” said Scully.

“What?” Mulder asked.

“Travis,” said Scully. “She’s trying to figure it all out.”

“Jesus, he didn’t propose, did he?” Mulder asked. The look on his face was enough to make her laugh, but she held it in.

Scully turned fully to Mulder and leaned back against the countertop, crossing her arms in front of her.

“You want to know what I think?” she asked. Mulder nodded. “She’s trying to decide whether or when to...” She made a vague gesture with her hands.

Mulder looked at her, still not understanding. Scully gave him the stare of the dotard husband.

“Mulder…” she said, glaring hard.

Realization dawned and Mulder swallowed. “I should have had that boy killed,” he said.

Scully turned back to the vegetables she’d been chopping. “Let’s refrain from wetwork while we’re on the lam.”

“I make no promises,” he said, and slid up behind her, stepping in close and putting his hands on her waist.  

“I had the guys check him out by way of Darlene,” Scully said. “He is who he says he is. And he seems like a decent kid. Let’s let her navigate this on her own, huh?” She felt his fingers squeeze and then they drifted down to rest on her hips.

“I don’t like it,” he mumbled, and leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to,” she said. “But you do have to accept it, and trust that we raised her to make these decisions for herself.”  She remembered being nineteen and in college and in love for the first time. “You want to hear about Kevin McAvoy, my freshman year boyfriend?”

Mulder squeezed his fingers again and then started to turn her slowly toward him. She set down the knife on the counter and let him. His head was bent toward her and she felt his breath fan her face.

“No,” he said, leaning even more into her personal space.

“I was his Little Red Corvette,” she said playfully, tipping her head back in challenge. He smiled, but she saw something rough pass through his eyes. “He’d put on Prince and --”

Mulder leaned down and silenced her with a kiss.

XxXxXxXxXxX

In her room, Lily sat on the bed, the can of soda from the fridge sitting unopened on her bedside table. Condensation beaded on the side of it, sliding down silently to pool at the base, unnoticed.

Crusher liked to sleep on her pillow, and had left a black felted indent in the feathers, which Lily brushed away and fluffed. She looked about the room. Not much about it spoke of the young woman who slept there and had for months; no posters on the walls, no pennants hanging or pictures of friends. It was a sterile guest room decorated with the mute tones of an unmarried 60-something and lately it had been making her feel like she wasn't even herself.

She stood and walked to the desk, the one place she deposited her things. Her wallet, the phone Darlene had given her that she rarely used and usually kept switched off. Her purse was half hanging off -- likely knocked into such a position by a passing cat -- and when she righted it, she noticed the picture that sat under it. The photo of her father and an unfamiliar brunette, who's face conveyed confidence -- almost a smugness -- and a certain charm.

She stared at the picture. And she wondered.

XxX

October 20, 2018

Lily glanced over her shoulder when she sat, feeling as though she were doing something illegal, something fraught.

No one really used the computer labs anymore -- if you needed to, you could write an entire paper on your phone, though Lily found the practice ridiculous and immature. Nevertheless, there were one or two students sitting at the various desktops around the small library lab, and she checked to make sure no one was paying attention to what she was doing.

She tried to be careful. She had told Travis that she was hoping to log into the university's network to prep for some of the classes she’d be taking at UVA next semester and so she was using his password and login information. She'd checked to make sure there were no cameras on the area where she sat, and that her back was to the one aimed at the larger area.

With a bracing breath, she logged on.

It was surprising what you could find with a simple Google search, and the commonwealth of Virginia's vital records office would send you a copy of any marriage certificate for a fee of $45. Knowing better than to use a credit card, she'd opted for a more in depth search, and found what she was looking for in the Daily Press -- the local newspaper of record in Newport News, Virginia.

It was a wedding announcement, complete with two pictures -- one, the same picture she'd found in her parent's attic and the other of a similar style -- of Fox William Mulder and Lauren Edith Williams, married on August 17th, 1988. According to the article, Lauren had been a recent graduate of Georgetown University and had been employed at Schuster and McClure, a PR firm in the District of Columbia.

Lily looked at the new photograph on the screen before her. Her father looked so young. Only a few years older than herself. Lauren was pretty, had perfect posture, and was staring into the camera like a dare; her dress was all frills and white froth, the material of the dress ruched in large poofs at the shoulders, a crown of satin flowers around the lush brunette curls on her head. She looked like someone Lily wouldn't have dared talk to back in high school. She looked nothing like Lily's mother.

Lauren Edith Williams, she wrote down, and stared at the paper in front of her.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 21, 2018

Lily was on the bus when she noticed him. It was his age that first drew her attention. Most everyone that rode this route (it went right into campus) was either a student or a professor, and something about him seemed the antithesis of scholarly. He had a sharp face, was dressed in loose clothing, a plain, black ball cap pulled low over his head. His knee bounced where he sat. She thought she could make out a tattoo curling onto the skin under the sleeve of his jacket. He could have been custodial staff for all she knew, but her parents had raised her to trust her instincts, and something inside of her pinged.

He hadn’t so much as looked in her direction, but she reached up and pulled the cord that requested a stop anyway, keeping him in her periphery when the bus rolled to the next stop. She was five blocks further away than she would have liked -- she was supposed to meet Travis just off campus for lunch. The man didn't move or rise from his seat. Nevertheless, she ducked out of the back door and onto the sidewalk, shouldering her purse and pretending to look at her phone. Only when the bus left with the man still on it would she exhale. The bus had just started to roll forward when it chirped to a stop and the front doors opened. The man in the cap trotted down the steps and onto the sidewalk, glancing briefly at her before turning and walking slowly west. Adrenaline awash in her bloodstream, she turned east.

The man had had a nondescript face. He was of average height and build, not someone you'd notice. She wracked her brain trying to remember when or if she'd seen him before, and had a hazy recollection of someone who might have been him: waiting outside of Travis's dorm when she'd come to visit him a couple days prior, or maybe even standing behind her in line at a coffee shop the day before. She should have been paying closer attention. Her parents had taught her to pay closer attention. Up until she'd done a search on her father and his ex-wife, she had. Lily silently cursed at herself.

She looked at her reflection in the shop windows along Grand River Avenue, trying to catch a glimpse behind her. She caught movement, but there were plenty of other people walking up and down the sidewalk. She needed a better look.

She swung up the stairs of the Student Union when she came to it a moment later, remembering walking in with her brother and dad only the month before, and felt the sharp pang of guilt.

When she reached the top of the staircase, she stopped to retie her shoe, glancing back behind her as she did so. The man in the cap was there, and had paused a ways away, looking down at his phone. Lily finished fiddling with her shoe and casually walked to the door, holding it open for a girl who was coming out, her heart hammering in her chest as she did so. Through the large doorway was a wide set of stairs going both up and down. When the door closed behind her, she bolted down the stairs to her right. There were a number of study spaces and she could pass through each one fairly quickly -- the day was busy and there were students everywhere; if she was lucky she could get lost in the crowd.

She ducked through the main lounge and past the small coffee shop on the lower level, looking behind her. She saw nothing, but that didn't mean he still wasn't coming. Seeing the full racks of clothing in the Spirit Shop across the hallway, she went inside, bending down to pretend to look at a few items on the bottom shelf.

Peering through underneath the hanging shirts, she watched as the man in the black cap came down the hallway outside of the shop and paused, turning toward it. Her heart leapt to her throat. He did a slow turn and then turned to keep walking. She kept her head down.

From the corner of her eye she caught her own reflection in the mirror outside the tiny dressing room -- she was wearing a bright blue shirt and her hair -- as bright and reflective as a stop sign, and always a part of herself she was fond of -- would give her away.

She stood, scanning the hallway outside the shop, and then she hastily pulled a green knit cap off a nearby shelf and pulled the tag off, shoving it over her head and tucking her hair up under it as quickly as she could. She grabbed a large tee shirt off the rack nearest her and took it plus the hat's tag to the counter, pulling some cash that her parents always had her carry out and plunking it on the counter.

"I don't need a receipt, thanks," she told the young woman helping her, and turned away.

"But what about your change?" the girl called after her.

"Tip jar," she said, turning back and keeping her voice low.

Once outside the store, she pulled the tee shirt over her head and made her way for the lower level exit that emptied onto campus. Seeing no one behind her, she took the steps out as fast as they would carry her and ran.

XxX

Darlene narrowed her eyes at Lily, and opened the door. “Quickly,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lily said, as Darlene let her into the house, peering around the block. “I didn’t want to use the phone.”

“I get it,” Darlene replied as she ushered Lily into her kitchen, where Lily sank onto one of the stools that sat before the peninsula of the counter.

"You want a lemonade or something, kiddo?" Darlene asked, leaning forward against the counter herself and giving Lily an expectant look -- there was more to it than just polite hospitality.

"No, thanks," Lily said, feeling the weight of Darlene's gaze and her own guilt in equal measure.

"Did you do something stupid?" Darlene asked outright and Lily, taken aback, sat up straighter, but didn't answer, thus confirming Darlene's clear suspicion. "How bad?"

"I think they found us."

Darlene huffed a breath. "Elaborate," she said.

"I... I ran a search. A couple days ago, in the university library. I was careful, but maybe not careful enough."

"What did you search?"

"My dad's ex-wife."

Darlene gave a low whistle. "Kiddo," she said, a statement.

"I know."

"Have you considered just asking him about her?"

Lily hugged herself.

"I have. I did. But… I wanted to know. For me. I don't want his version of this woman. I wanted to see for myself who she was. Is."

Darlene moved to the window and peered out, lowering the blinds as she did so. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Lily once again felt a pang of guilt. She looked down. "Not really."

Darlene moved around the counter to a sideboard table on the dining room side of the counter and began shuffling through a drawer.

"What makes you think they found you?" she asked.

"I think there's someone following me," Lily said, "I think maybe I’ve seen him a couple of times on campus, but I don’t know. I lost him and came here."

"Just one someone?"

Lily began to second guess herself.

"I think so?"

When Darlene straightened from the sideboard she was holding a pistol.

"Call your father right now, and tell him to get over here. Armed." Darlene's words were cold and calm. Lily's stomach dropped in her gut.

She reached for Darlene's phone, a relic from another time which hung on the wall, its cord coiled like a snake.

Darlene walked to the sliding glass door as she dialed the numbers, each tone sounding long and drawn out, Darlene pulled the long curtains closed with a snap.

"Dad?" Lily said, when Mulder answered.

"Hey Lil!" he sounded so relaxed, excited just to talk to her though he'd seen her that morning.

"Dad, I'm at Darlene's. She says to get over here. She said to bring your gun."

She heard his sharp inhale. “I’m coming,” he said, and then she heard a dial tone.

"Lily," said Darlene, walking over to her computer, which was booted up and sitting on her dining room table, cords snaking out of it and across the floor. She quickly typed hunt-and-peck with her right hand, the gun still clutched in her left. "I want you to go into the top right drawer in my dresser. In a small lockbox, code 9-10-9-3, you'll find an old Nokia phone. It should be fully charged. It’s untraceable. Do not turn it on. Take it. Put it somewhere safe -- your bra or your sock or underwear. Then get under my bed."

Lily walked to the hallway, her body on autopilot, her heart hammering and her blood roaring in her veins.

Darlene finished typing, clicked a few things with her mouse and then peeked an eye out the closed curtain toward the backyard, tapping the gun against the side of her thigh.

Pausing in the hallway, Lily turned back to Darlene.

"Is someone coming?" Lily asked.

"Kid," Darlene said, shooting her a look, "they're already here."

[imafraidof-thedark]

okay jerk i’ve never met before i expect some pure lunor shit specifically with TMS weekly movie night

hello, bitch, who i obviously haven’t met! here’s some lunor/habby and TMS movie night! hope it’s substantial 

also i can make a tag list if anyone is interested in being tagged when i post more, so comment/dm if you want to be added to the tag list. 

additionally, i’ll most likely be writing more ayaotd fics after that, so, you can send me an ask with a prompt to write for

READ ON AO3

“Just start without me. I have to do my homework,” Connor said, looking up at Luke, who had just walked in telling him that they were starting the movie soon. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” asked Connor.

“I mean, no,” Luke restated, climbing onto Connor’s bed and closing his laptop, moving it away from him. Luke climbed over Connor and stretched out over his body, leaning into his arms. Connor snaked his arms around Luke’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple, threading his fingers through Luke’s hair.

“I guess I can do my homework later,” he murmured, and Luke smiled, pushing himself up slightly to kiss Connor’s cheek. Connor moved his hand down to Luke’s face, and cupping his cheek, kissed his lips.

“Thanks, Con,” Luke replied in between kisses, blushing slightly. 

“‘Course,” Connor said, “anything for my angel.”

“Soooo,” Hanna said down in the living room, tucking her foot under her and sitting down on the couch. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Connor said IT one,” Gabby said, from her spot on the floor in front of Hanna, next to Jai. 

Hanna crossed her arms. “Who is currently not here,” she said under her breath.

Jai snorted. “He’s probably in the kitchen making out with his boyfriend.”

“Jai!” Hanna exclaimed hitting him with a pillow.

“Am I wrong?” he asked.

Gabby gave a noncommittal jerk of her head. “He’s most likely not wrong.”

“Gabby! Not you too!” Hanna groaned. 

“Hanna, you can’t say that there hasn’t been something else since Luke ‘gripped him tight and raised him from perdition,’” Jai said, making finger quotes in the air. 

“Jai-” Hanna started but broke off as the door opened and Connor and Luke walked in. 

“Speak of the devil,” Jai smirked.

Hanna rolled her eyes and Gabby laughed lightly. 

“Whatchya talking about?” Luke asked, walking over to sit in the corner of the couch. Connor followed close behind with a bowl of popcorn.

“Nothing,” Gabby said quickly. 

“Okay,” Luke said skeptically as Jai stretched out his arms, reaching for the popcorn bowl. Connor handed it to him, then sat down in between Luke and Hanna. 

“‘S it queued up?” he asked and no one spoke. “Seriously?” Sighing, he got up and turned on the tv in his living room.

“Sorry that we don’t know how to work the tv,” Jai replied and Connor just rolled his eyes, pulling the disc of the first IT movie out of the tv stand. “And where the disc was,” Jai added as Connor turned on the tv and put the disk into the player.

“It’s not like you’ve been over to my house a million times, Jai.”

Luke put his arm up on the side of the couch and said, “he hasn’t. He’d be talking with Seth while we’re hanging out.”

“Okay, the funky dude isn’t that bad,” Jai protested.

“No, he’s that bad,” Hanna said. Jai shrugged and shoveled popcorn into his mouth while Connor took his spot again, Luke’s arm shifting closer to him as he clicked play and the opening scene started up, with the volume high enough to drown out almost any other noise.

“I’m thinking it might’ve been a bad idea to watch IT after the Shadowman,” Gabby said, 30 minutes into the movie. She’d migrated to the couch now, and she and Hanna were both under a blanket, and Jai had piled pillows on the floor and was lounging across them. 

From the opposite side of the couch, Connor, who had his head resting on Luke’s shoulder, spoke. “Yeah, probably. Bad planning on my part.”

“Or maybe it was just a ploy to get me to hold you,” Luke whispered into Connor’s ear, careful not to let the others hear. 

Connor smiled, blushing slightly, and looked up at Luke. “You look really cute when you do that, too,” Luke added.“Shut up,” he muttered, but moved closer into Luke’s side anyway, and The Midnight Society (minus Seth) sat in silence for a few more minutes before someone spoke. “We’re out of popcorn,” Jai said, lifting the empty bowl above his head. Connor flicked his eyes over to where Jai was.

“We’ll make it,” Hanna announced, grabbing the bowl from Jai and standing up. “C’mon.” She motioned with her hand. Gabby blinked and looked around in confusion, but stood up and followed Hanna. “And you can keep watching the movie,” Hanna added as she held the door to the hallway open for Gabby.

Gabby yawned as she walked over to the counter where the Stevens’ air popper and popcorn kernels were already out from the last batch. It was when Gabby had measured out the kernels and started the machine that Hanna finally spoke. “Gabby?” she asked hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“I have something to tell you,” Hanna said, wringing her hands nervously. Gabby turned around to look at her and jumped up onto the countertop. “I’m listening,” she replied when Hanna didn’t speak. 

“What? Oh, yeah.” Hanna rubbed her eyes. “Gabby? I like you. Like, romantically like you. Like, like, you,” she confessed, starting to pace. “And I get that you might not be okay with that, which is fine, I guess, and I won’t mention this again if that’s the case and we can pretend this never happened, cause I still want to be your friend, even if I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Hanna.”

“Yes?” Hanna asked apprehensively, stopping in front of Gabby.

Gabby smiled. “I like you too. Like, like, you.”

Hanna immediately felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. “You do?” Her voice came out breathless and strained. 

“I do,” Gabby assured, reaching an arm out to Hanna. Hanna stepped forward shakily, then again, and again, until she was right in front of Gabby. She could smell Gabby’s flowery scent that accompanied her everywhere; the cherry chapstick on her lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Gabby whispered, which Hanna still heard over her frantic pulse and the air popper in the background. She nodded and Gabby leaned in slowly. 

When their lips met, Hanna felt the whole world disappear. It was only her and Gabby. She felt Gabby pull her closer and she unconsciously leaned in and deepened the kiss, her arms moving around Gabby’s waist. 

Meanwhile, Gabby moved her hands up Hanna’s arms to her face to touch Hanna’s cheeks gently, her ankles hooked together behind Hanna’s legs. 

They finally broke apart after the first couple of popcorn kernels popped. Gabby leaned down and touched her forehead to Hanna’s, both of them smiling breathlessly.

“So you really like me?” Hanna asked.“Yes, I really like you,” Gabby responded, tucking a strand of Hanna’s hair behind her ear. Hanna smiled and kissed Gabby again. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” Gabby repeated, pulling Hanna in for a hug, only letting go when they heard the popcorn stop popping. Hanna pulled away, placing a chaste kiss on Gabby’s lips, then walked to turn off the air popper.

“Jai will want salt and butter,” Gabby told Hanna. 

“Well,” Hanna stated, grabbing the salt, “sucks for him, cause he’s just having salt.”Gabby grinned as Hanna shook the salt over the popcorn, then shook the bowl lightly. “Ready?” Hanna asked, holding her hand out for Gabby to take.

“What are we gonna tell the rest of the Midnight Society?” Gabby asked quietly. 

Hanna lowered her hand. “We can decide tomorrow. They don’t need to know yet if you’re not ready. That okay?”

Gabby nodded.

“And besides,” Hanna continued, “they’re all fine with my moms, anyway.”

Gabby nodded and Hanna held out her hand again. This time, Gabby took it, smiling, and hopped off the counter. 

“Thank you,” Jai drew out when Hanna handed him the bowl, and Hanna nodded in return, settling down on the couch with Gabby. Hanna opened her arms and Gabby leaned into her chest. 

“You know, I think if the Losers were actually smart, they wouldn’t run to try and stop IT,” Jai said, holding his arm up vertically. “I mean like, Pennywise was gonna take them anyway most likely. It’s kinda useless.”

“Jai, you do realize what we did when Connor was missing, right?” Hanna asked incredulously. 

“Well yeah. But that’s cause we had a friend missing.”

There was an awkward silence. “Jai, Georgie was missing. He’s Bill’s brother,” Luke deadpanned. 

Jai blinked. “Yeah okay, I see your point.”

The rest of the movie passed relatively smoothly, Gabby falling asleep first, two-thirds of the way through the movie, her head resting on Hanna’s shoulder. Hanna fell asleep 10 minutes after that, and then Jai during the last scene in the field. 

“That was fun,” Luke whispered at 1:30 am when the movie ended and the credits started. 

“Yeah,” Connor whispered back, neither of them bothering to get up and turn the tv off just yet. 

“Watching this movie makes me realize how glad I am to have you back,” Luke told Connor, running his hands through Connor’s hair and then kissing his hairline. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Connor replied, and they fell into an easy silence. When the credits finally stopped, Connor reluctantly pulled away from Luke.

“Where are you going?” Luke whined, flopping on the couch, reaching for Connor.

“I have to put away the disk and turn off the tv,” Connor answered, bending down and taking the remote from Jai’s hand, then clicking the tv off. “But we can go to my room after.”

“Oh, okay,” Luke said, standing up and waiting in the doorway. When they left the room, they didn’t have to turn off the lights. All the members of the Midnight Society now had strings of lights hung up around their houses, and Connor’s living room was no different—there was a string of white Christmas lights around the room, and the actual lights had been off for a while. 

It was nearing 4 am when the sky had started lightening in the summer morning that Luke and Connor were both laying in Connor’s bed finally trying to sleep. Their legs were intertwined and they were both laying on their sides, facing each other. “I’m really glad you’re my boyfriend, angel,” Connor whispered.

“I’m super glad you’re my boyfriend, too, Con,” Luke whispered back, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Connor’s face, then kissing him again. With that, they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each others’ arms.

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Earth Girl(Rey x Reader) Finale

Summary: It's time to go back home, back to Earth where you belong but that means it's time to say goodbye.

Word count: 1, 391

A/N: This was mean to be posted a few day ago but I had some technology problems. This is the final part of this small series, thank you all for sticking until the end. As always, let me know what you think!!

“Earth?” you murmured a bit confused. Rey was serious, avoiding your questioning gaze, her brown eyes concentrated on the white and blue tunnel of hyperspace.

“You’ll be safeter there.” Rey told you. “I don’t know why I didn’t take you back to your planet since the first day. I’m so stupid thinking I could protect you.”

“Hey, stop. You’re not stupid, by far you’re the most brilliant person I have ever known.” you said reaching for her hand. “We just have to figure out a plan together. We could go back to the Resistance.”

“No, you need to go back to Earth now.” She said in a commanding tone, finally looking at you. “I promised you I’d help you and I will.” she told you. “You will return home, Y/N”

“Well, I feel like my home is here… with you.” you told her, giving a soft squeeze to her hand.

Rey sighed, there was a worried look on her face, sadness hidden in her eyes that looked at you carefully.

“It’s not a good idea staying with me, the bad people still chasing you." She added, "Only on Earth will you be safe."

"But-"

"Y/N, please understand. I'm trying to protect you." She said. You stayed silent for a moment. "You should get some sleep, it's gonna be a long flight." Rey told you, turning her gaze away from you and letting go of your hand.

Upset, you left the cockpit without any other words, hurt by Rey's serious attitude and for the sudden realization of reality. You walked through the Falcon, caressing its old walls as you passed by the halls, wondering how many stories had this ship witnessed that you would never know. In fact in a matter of hours you will never see this starship again.

You would never see Rey again as well.

In this short time you had grown pretty attached to Rey, fallen in love completely for her and for her world that you wanted to be part of so desperately. All of it would be gone as soon as the ship arrived at your solar system.

*********

You were back in the cockpit when the ship jumped out of hyperspace revealing the green and blue silhouette of your home planet.

“Earth.” Ret murmured.

“Earth.” you confirmed nodding slightly.

The rest of the flight was fast, quicker than you would have liked you recognized the tallest building of the city, your home, your secret spot where all had started. It felt like you lived here in another timeline, maybe in another life, it felt rather strange. Different.

Finally the moment you were trying to avoid came, it was time to go. Rey opened the hatch of the Falcon over the rooftop, quietly you both got outside.

The familiar chill air hitted your face as soon as you stepped out of the ship, you were back.

“This is your home?” Rey asked breaking the silence that traveled with you since you left her galaxy.

“Yeah, you could say that.”' You told her leaning on the railing of the building, just as you used to do in the past. “I come here when I can’t sleep, and that’s almost every night.” you explained.

“It’s beautiful.” she gasped. Rey was amazed, eyes filled with wonder as she tried to memorize every detail of the picture in front of her: tall buildings rise in the distance, lights of the busy city contrasting with the darkness of the night, distant echoes. She wanted to make sure she’ll remember this place. Secretly searching for you in every light behind a window and hearing your laugh in every midnight whisper.

Rey turned her gaze to you, the dim light of the moon hitting your face, your eyes mirroring the colorful lights of the city beneath you and the air ruffling your hair, you looked as beautiful as ever. That’s how she wanted to remember you.

“So this is goodbye?” you whispered looking at her.

“I guess it is.” she said, sadness in her voice.

“Will I see you again?” you asked, deep down you knew the answer, but still you had hopes she would say yes.

“I can’t come back. It’s forbidden.” she says, looking away down at the city. “I have already broken a lot of rules, General Organa is not gonna be happy that I disobeyed her orders.”

“You’re right.” you told her. “I can’t imagine her angry but it must be terrifying.” you chuckled and she did too.

Rey sighed, she had to go soon and she knew it, the longer she stayed the more trouble she would get into but still, she wasn’t ready to leave you.

Finding the strength to say goodbye hurt more than anything she had felt before. She felt like she was abandoning you like her parents did to her a long time ago and suddenly she felt like her younger self again, in a desert screaming for her parents to come back.

“You’ll be safe here, Y/N.” she finally said. “The First Order won’t dare to put a foot here.”

There was a painful silence between you two, where all you could do was stare longingly at each other.

“Take care.” Rey murmured, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m never going to forget you, Y/N. I promise I’ll think about you every day.” She said before she turned around to get back to the Falcon.

“Rey.” You raised your voice, stopping her after a few steps. She looked over her shoulder. “I love you.” you confessed, you couldn't let her go without telling her how you felt about her.

Without hesitating you ran into each other’s arms, wrapping your arms tightly around Rey’s figure. You held her close one last time, inhaling her sweet scent. You wished you could stay like that forever but you knew you could’t, you were from earth and there was where you were meant to be.

And then she kissed you, so sweet and soft, delicately. She was just making it more difficult to say goodbye.

“I love you too, Earth girl.” she smiled a few inches from your face when the kiss ended. You felt your eyes filling with tears.

Looking into her eyes you realized that you didn't want her to leave you, you didn't want to live without her. That in the short time you spent living in her world you found it better than Earth. Running away from bad guys and flying through the vast space seemed better than the same old routine. You wanted to have a life in that galaxy. A life with Rey by your side.

“What if I don’t want to stay, Rey?” you asked, still holding her close to you.

“No, Y/N, you have to stay here.” she cried, shaking her head. “It’s for your own good."

“What if I want to go with you?” you said.

“It’s too dangerous." She told you, caressing the side of your face. "You would always be on the run, there would always be someone chasing after us. You would never have a proper home like the one you have here. This is your home, I would never ask you to leave it for me.”

“You are my home, Rey.” you said, looking right into her precious eyes. “And after what I’ve seen in this short time I’m sure I’d love to be there, but most important I love to have a life with you, my space girl." You said.

"Are you sure?" Rey asked with a soft smile on her face as her eyes filled with hope. You pressed your lips to hers for a moment in quick kiss.

"I am." You told her. "Now, let's go back home, Rey." You said, taking her hand in yours.

Smiling, Rey and you walked towards the big ship waiting for you, happy to have her by your side. Then finally you sat once again on the copilot seat and soon you were off the planet.

You admired Earth from a far for a moment, your home planet, taking one last look at it.

"Ready?" Rey asked you with a smirk.

"Ready." You said. Pulling a lever the ship jumped into the white and blue tunnel of hyperspace, and it raced towards your new life in a galaxy far far away.

Tagging: @natasha-danvers ,@1-800-depressedlesbian , @xgaygremlinx , @deputy-orange-juice

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know)

[slade-neko]

Saw this video game tag thing pop up on my dash a few days ago. Wanted to do it.

1. First game you played obsessively? Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, I believe I was 5yo. Still waiting on that FF7 Remake treatment.

2. A game that has influenced you creatively? Writing, drawing, etc. Well if I play a game and like it, then I'll create sims of it. Does that count?

3. Who did you play with as a kid? My brother from the day I was born.

4. Who do you play with now? My brother FROM THE DAY I WAS BORN.

5. Ever use cheat codes? I wasn't lying when I made this post. {link}

6. Ever buy strategy guides? Yes! Mainly to look at the artwork though. (Don't need no guide!)

7. Any games you have multiple copies of? Lots of games, most being Left 4 Dead with 6 copies (3 Xbox 360, 1 PC case, 2 PC digitally.) What can I say, its a GOOD GAME!

8. Rarest/Most expensive game in your collection? Gold cartridge Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time (maybe that's rare?)

9. Most regrettable purchase? I don't regret my purchases, but I have received games I have never played like Cubix (PS2) no clue where that game came from, but I have it somehow. Madagascar (Xbox 360) came with my Xbox 360, never opened it from its case. And Monsters Inc. Scream Arena (Gamecube) or something... it was a gift.

10. Ever go to a midnight game release or stand in line for hours? No, because then I'd have to interact with people.

11. Have you ever made new friends from playing video games? I'm only friends with people BECAUSE of video games, so yes.

12. Ever get picked on for liking games? No, that'd be ridiculous.

13. A game you’ve never played that everyone else has? Probably a lot, I'd say Call of Duty, but I technically played CoD 1, 2, and 4. The campaign mode was alright, but I don't really care for CoD games at ALL.

14. Favorite game music? Koji Kondo and Grant Kirkhope are two BIG ones.

15. If it was a requirement to get a game related tattoo, what would you pick? Triforce is the most basic option, but I'd rather not get a tattoo.

16. Favorite game to play with your friends IRL? Super Smash Bros. Brawl with hacks, but that was over a decade ago.

17. Ever lose a friend over a game? No, that'd be ridiculous.

18. Would you date someone that hates gaming? No, that'd be RIDICULOUS.

19. Favorite handheld console? PSP. 3DS is great, but PSP Monster Hunter has ALL of my portable gaming memories. Like playing in school after End of Grade tests with my friend.

20. Game that you know like the back of your hand? Sims 4 I like to think I know everything about Left 4 Dead. Quite a bit about Monster Hunter, more so of a series though than a specific game.

21. Game that you didn’t like or understand as a kid but love now? I'd say Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic. I loved it as a kid, but had a lot of complex pen & paper RPG mechanics that I never understood. I understand a lot more of it now, but its still complex as all heck. I just know you hit things, they die.

22. Do you wear game related clothing/accessories? That's the only thing I wear.

23. The game that you’ve logged the most hours into? Not sure so I'll list a few. Sims 4, Smash Bros. Brawl, Monster Hunter (its a series though), or Left 4 Dead

24. First Pokemon game? Leaf Green

25. Were you ever an arcade game player? No, don't like paying to play.

26. Ever form any gaming rivalries? No.

27. Game that makes you rage? I don't get mad at games, but I had a custom modded Hard Eight mutation in Left 4 Dead that is absolute bullsh*t!

28. Ever play in a tournament? No, because then I'd have to interact with people.

29. What is your gaming set up? A giant wall of video game consoles spanning from NES to Switch, 4 TVs, but I sit at a desk with a PC.

30. How many consoles do you own? "I own every console that's ever existed." - I Don't Play Games When I Play Games (My STRENTH) original song by Smooth McGroove BUT no seriously I own 32 consoles including handhelds.

31. Does the 3DS and/or Virtual Boy hurt your eyes or give you headaches? Yes. 3DS gave me headaches though I only really played with the 3D feature in Ocarina of Time 3D. I think my eyes broke because I couldn't get my 3D to work very well after.

32. Did you ever play a game based on your favorite show/cartoon/movie/comic? Sure I play games based on a lot of things. Literally any anime game. If I had to pick Dragon Ball Xenoverse is kinda like a dream Dragon Ball game. Oh, Attack on Titan 2 is pretty neat too!

33. Did you ever have any bootleg games or plug-n-play games? Some SEGA plug-n-play thing once. Played it like once and now its lost to time (or my closet.)

34. Do either of your parents play video games? Yes. Mom and Dad played NES Super Mario Bros. My Dad went HARD at that game until he saved the Princess. Then he quit forever.

35. Ever work in a game store? Or do you have a favorite game shop? "Hi. Welcome to Gamestop!"I never want to hear that again, but it was my main store until I went full digital/ online orders.

36. Have you ever shed actual blood, sweat or tears over a game? No, I don't tend to get upset or emotional, but Bill dying in Left 4 Dead made me pretty pissed.

37. Have you played E.T. for the Atari 2600? Do you think that’s the worst game ever, or do you have another nomination? Never played it. I don't really play "bad" games, but maybe Sims 4.

38. A game you’re ashamed to admit that you like? The Sims 4

39. A sequel that you would die for them to make? Dragon's Dogma 2 WHICH I think is actually in development, so I'd have to say Fallout New Vegas 2. C'mon Bethesda you cowards, hand the keys back over to Obsidian so they can make another good Fallout game!

40. What to you think of virtual reality headsets or motion controls? Two part question, two answers. VR Headset to immerse in world, yes. Motion Controls, no.

41. A genre that you just can’t get into? MOBAs and MMOs. I don't like paying to keep playing.

42. Maybe it wasn’t your first game, but what was the game that started you on your path to nerdiness? Nintendo 64 opened me up to what video games could be as a kid. Sad to say my parents' NES didn't really do that for me. And years later Fallout 3 was a big game changer for me too.

43. Ever play games when you really should have been concentrating on something else? Every day of my LIFE.

44. Arcade machine that has consumed the most of your quarters? None. I'd rather emulate.

45. How are you at Mario Kart? Pretty dang good. 3-STARS MARIO KART WII, BABY!

46. Do you like relaxing games like Animal Crossing or Harvest Moon? Yes, both of those. I preferred when Animal Crossing had more character to it. New Horizons looks so pretty, but feels so bland compared to classic AC.

47. Do you like competitive games? No. Not really. Usually amongst friends or if I can get competitive against AI Bots. I love my machine bot friends cause they don't cry like 10 year olds when they lose.

48. How long does it take your to customize your player character? Too long. I've seriously restarted games because I wasn't happy with my character's appearance.

49. In games where you can pick your class, do you always tend to go for the same type of character? Yes, I am always the magic man, my brother is always brute warrior, and my friend is the ranger.

50. If you were a game designer, what masterpiece would you create? I don't really know. Honestly, I'd rather mod already good games to make them better than create something completely new.

51. Have you ever played a game for so long that you forgot to eat or sleep? No, that'd be ridiculous. But I've had a friend fall asleep playing games at my house 3 different times and currently dozes off during our Minecraft sessions. So, maybe that's not a completely ridiculous thing after all.

52. A game that you begged your parents for as a kid? Kirby 64 apparently. My brother tells me we had to count out pennies to buy it. I must've been too young with no recollection, but I believe it.

53. What’s your opinion on DLC these days? It's good if its not in the game's files from the beginning and is actually developed AFTER launch... and pre-order bonuses should be standard DLC a month or two later. Some games have content lost to time because of that pre-order bullsh*t.

54. Do you give in to Steam sales? Of course. If you want a game and its on sale then why not? I typically wait just for Steam sales to get games.

55. Did you ever make someone you hated in the Sims and did mean stuff to them? No? I typically make people and characters I like in Sims. I've made villains like Dio, but he's an anime villain and I don't really HATE him despite the horrible things he's done.

56. Did you ever play Roller Coaster Tycoon and kill off your guests? No. Never played that game.

57. Did you ever play a game to 100% or get all of the achievements? I try to for all the games I really like.

58. If you can only play 3 games for the rest of your life, which ones do you pick? The Sims 4, Skyrim, & Fallout: New Vegas. Mods make them live forever. Left 4 Dead and Monster Hunter are good choices too.

59. Do you play any cell phone games? Those aren't games.

60. Do you know the Konami Code? No? But I'll take a guess. Is it make an IP and forget it exists?

61. Do you trade in your games or keep them forever? Keep forever... even the bad ones.

62. Ever buy a console specifically to play one game? PS4 Pro for Monster Hunter World. It was basically for early access since the PC version was being developed and releasing after PS4, but I don't like waiting.

63. Ever go to a gaming convention or tournament? Sort of. Been to anime cons and walked into the gaming tournament rooms only to walk out less than 10 minutes later.

64. Ever make a TV or monitor purchase based on what would be best for gaming? No, but I'm going to be doing that soon, hopefully.

65. Ever have a Game Genie, Game Shark or Action Replay? Did it ever mess up your game’s save file? GameShark for N64, PS2, Gameboy, and Action Replay for Gamecube, DS, 3DS. And no not really, I would cheat responsibly... but there was this one time at school my friend and I borrowed another friend's Gameboy game, loaded it up with my Gameshark, tried playing, it crashed, loaded it back up, save file corrupted... we just stared at each other jaws dropped, "Here's your game back, dude. Make sure you don't play it til you get back home!"

66. Did you ever have have an old Nokia with Snake on it? No, but I remember seeing them on billboards in the game DRIV3R on PS2.

67. Do you have a happy gaming-related childhood memory you want to share? Every game I play is filled with happy memories (mostly.)

68. Ever save up a ton of tickets in an arcade to get something cool? These tiger plushes. My brother got white and I got orange. They were the coolest. Got a butt load of tickets from some jackpot spinning light game thing as I was good at the timing with repeated jackpot hits.

69. In your opinion, best game ever made? I've played quite a few masterpiece games, but to pick one, I'd say Fallout: New Vegas

70. Very first game you ever beat? Super Mario 64. I was a mere child on a Sunday morning and ate celebratory pancakes made by my Dad.

Wow, that was long... I get the feeling this was supposed to be a "send me ask with numbers" thing, but answering all at once is more fun.

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 56]

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

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

Okay, let’s see what Virgil has literally dug up.

Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

 “Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

 Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

 Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

 Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

 Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

 He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

 Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

 Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

 Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

 The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

 “I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

 He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

 “Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

39448

Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

 Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

 He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

 Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

 There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

 Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

 “It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

20285

“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

 Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

  Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

 Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

 Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

 He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

 Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

 Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

 Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

 Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

 By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

 It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

 She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

 Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

 “Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

 She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

  Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

43410

“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

 “Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

  Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

48468

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

48588

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

[robinrunsfiction]

Style

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~3,900 Author’s Note: This is the first in a series of stories inspired by songs by Taylor Swift, this one of course being Style from the album 1989. I had intended on holding on to the series until I had all of them done, but I’m struggling to write... anything lately so I’m posting the two that I do have done. Full honesty, this story is one I originally wrote about two years ago for a different fandom and then modified for this challenge. I hope you enjoy.

The vibrating of her phone on the nightstand next to her woke her from her light sleep. She rolled over, bleary eyed, and checked the screen.

From: Frank Iero Message: hey

"Oh for fucks sake" she muttered to herself. She glanced at the clock, just before midnight, no surprise there. 'What's up?' She texted back. She set her phone down and rolled back over, willing it to stay silent.

Until it vibrated again.

'So you are up…' he replied

'Because you woke me up' she replied.

'Anyway, wanna come over?'

'Where's your girl tonight?'

They had an arrangement. They would only contact each other if they knew the other wasn't seeing anyone and they'd hook up, no strings attached. It had been working out pretty well for a few years now. They were each occasionally with a significant other for a while, him more usually than her, but nothing long term, so they weren't ever out of their routine for too long.

'She's gone' he replied.

'At the very least you come to my place' she replied back.

'Already on my way'

(YN) dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror before curling up on the couch and waiting for the doorbell to ring. About 20 minutes later, she had almost fallen back to sleep, when there was a knock. Trudging to the door, she opened to find that familiar face.

"Hey" she said, letting him in.

"Hey, glad you were up," he said with a smirk as he took off his coat and tossed it on the couch where she had just been sitting.

"I wasn't, remember?"

"But you are now," he said, taking a step toward her, putting his hands on her hips.

"Lucky you," she replied as she slipped from his grasp leading the way to her bedroom. Frank had hardly taken a step when she pulled off her tank top and flinging over her shoulder at him. 

It always amazed (YN) that no matter how long they may have been apart, they were always able to pick right up. She could remember exactly what to do to drive him wild, he remembered all the spots that she loved him to kiss and touch. 

When they both finished and were both lying back, catching their breath, he looked over at her and chuckled.

"What?" She asked with a laugh as well.

"I dunno" he muttered.

"So what happened with your girl?" She asked after a few moments of silence.

"Nice pillow talk, (YN)."

"Oh come on, you know how I am" she said rolling over onto her elbow to look at him.

"Nosey?"

“I was gonna say kind of a bitch, but I suppose that’s true too,” she said with a shrug and he laughed.

"She said I wasn't giving her the attention she deserved, so she found someone who could."

"So she starts dating a touring musician,  someone who everyone knows is busy as hell, and bails when he's busy as hell? What a bitch."

"Eh, it was fun while it lasted."

(YN) rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

"What have you been up to?" He asked.

"Ya know, the usual" she said with a shrug.

"Been seeing anyone?"

"Why?"

"Making conversation."

"Nah. Been on a few dates, but nothing worth the effort." She said rolling on to her back again. He then rolled onto his side and looked at her.

"What?" She asked again, with a sideways glance.

"Admit it, you missed me."

"Ugh, you are the worst."

"You know you did."

"I missed... parts of you" with that same sly grin from before.

"Well, let's get reacquainted again."

~

The next morning (YN) woke up with the sun streaming in around the blinds. She was glad she had the day off because Frank had kept her up late. She looked over at where he slept beside her, back turned to her and she couldn't help but smile fondly at his tattooed back. She pulled herself out of bed and slipped into the shower.

Frank woke up and didn't find (YN) next to him, but soon realized he heard the shower running. Even when he was with his ex, he missed coming over to (YN)'s place, or when she would stop by his house unannounced. They were friends first and foremost, but the physical chemistry between them was undeniable. Their agreement had been working so well for so long that he didn't dare say what he had been feeling for a while now.

He heard the shower shut off and a minute later she came back into her room with her plush towel wrapped around herself.

"Oh you're up" she smiled. She thought maybe he would have slipped out by the time she got out of the shower.

"Yea I just woke up. You gotta work today?"

"No, today's my day off. You?"

"We got a meeting this afternoon."

"Sucks to suck" she said with a grin, pulling on underwear from her drawer.

He laughed lightly as he got up from the bed and got dressed. She glanced over at him while pulling on her shirt. It looked like there was something on his mind, but she didn't know if she should pry. "Wanna get brunch? Your treat?" She asked with a grin.

"Sure," he replied with a laugh.

They headed to a diner down the street and ordered their meals and caught up a bit more since it had been a while since they had been face to face.

"I have to go to this bachelorette party for my coworker tomorrow after working all day." (YN) said, rolling her eyes. She was a hair stylist and knew she had a busy Saturday booked. After being on her feet for hours, she knew she'd rather just crash in bed than go out.

"If you don't wanna go, don't go."

"No, I'm gonna go, I don't just bail, but I am gonna hate it the whole time. I'll just have to get a good night of sleep tonight." She said, narrowing her eyes at her friend across the table.

Frank shrugged and put his hands up defensively. "You coulda told me not to come over."

"Oh, you and I both know that wasn't gonna happen."

"Again, you missed me."

"Stop projecting your feelings on to me" she said hitting his arm from across the table and he laughed.

"Anyway, I gotta get home and shower, let's get outta here."

Frank paid for their meals, and they walked back down to her building.

“Good to see you again, (YN),” he said as he turned toward his car.

“Welcome back to the land of living Mr. Iero,” she replied as she let herself into her building.

~

The next morning (YN) woke up without any text messages interrupting her sleep. She got out of bed, showered and got ready for her day. She had a full schedule that included two of her more difficult clients in the afternoon.

Thankfully the day went quickly, but by the time her last client was done she had a splitting headache. She knew if she wanted to leave Jenny wouldn’t hold it against her, but Susie who organized the bachelorette party for Jenny would never let her forget it. As she cleaned up her station, she heard champagne bottles popping in the back room and decided she could at least go to dinner if it involved champagne.

After pre-gaming in the back of the salon, the group headed out to dinner and (YN) found her patience growing thinner, and the drinks she was consuming weren’t helping. There were multiple conversations happening, but she found herself sitting back, wishing she was anywhere else at that moment.

 “(YN), you’re single, what’s up with that? You’re so pretty and feisty, I can’t believe you can’t find a guy who can put up with that!” One of her coworkers asked. She opened her mouth to reply to the back handed compliment, when Susie jumped in.

“I heard she’s got a friend with benefits!”

“Well yes Susie, you’re right! Because I don’t see the point in being in a relationship. I can get laid without all the unnecessary bullshit that goes along with it! Win-win!” She said taking a smug sip of her drink, relishing in the dumbfounded looks and glares being shot at her from her coworkers who were celebrating the idea of long-term commitment and romantic love.

She finished her dinner and glanced at the time on her phone, it wasn’t very late, but waved down the waiter and paid her check. As she left, she gave Jenny a hug and whispered an apology into her ear for her bitchy comment earlier.

“Don’t worry, I understand” Jenny replied with a smile.

(YN)'s uber was outside when she exited the restaurant. She gave the driver the address and rested her head against the cool window.

If she was to be honest with herself, she wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of a relationship, but she was really satisfied with where her life was, especially now that Frank was coming around again. He really was the best sex she had ever had, probably because they had been in each other’s lives for so long.

When she arrived at her destination, she breathed a sigh of relief that the lights in the living room were on and no other cars were around.

“I knew you’d turn up sooner or later, but I didn’t think it would be this soon” Frank said with a smirk when he opened the door.

“Are you gonna chastise me, or are you gonna invite me in?” She asked, rolling her eyes. He stood back and opened the door for her and she came in. The place looked the same as always, kind of cluttered with guitars and horror movie memorabilia all over the place.

“How was your party?”

“It was ok. I like my coworkers at work, much more than that, I’ll pass. They get real catty when they start drinking," she said flopping down on the couch. "I see you have a real exciting evening going on here.”

“Well it’s a good thing you came along to save me from it” he said sitting down next to her, putting his hand on her thigh.

“What can I say, it’s my super power,” she said, turning her body into his, putting her hand on his chest. He leaned in and they started making out. He ran his hand further up her thigh over her tight jeans, the other hand on her back pulling her closer to him. She ran her nails up the back of his neck, raking over his scalp sending goosebumps up and down his body.

He leaned back pulling her onto his lap, and she took the opportunity to pull her top off. He pulled her back down to kiss him, hand roaming over her back, easily undoing her bra and tossing it aside, as she ground her hips into his with an increasing urgency. He sat up and she pulled his shirt off and then raked her nails over his tattooed chest.

Moans and muttered curses filled the room until they both came. She fell forward onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She was surprised at first by the affection of the action, but didn’t care because it did feel nice to be held like that. They stayed like that for a few minutes before she pulled back.

“I guess I should get goin' then” she said reaching down to gather her clothes from the floor.

“Why?” He asked. “I mean, we haven’t hung out in a while, just stay.”

She considered the offer. He had a point, they used to hang out much more. And it wasn’t like she had anything to do that night.

“Ok sure, but I’m still putting on some of my clothes," she retorted.

“You want something to drink?” He asked, getting up after pulling his sweatpants back on and wandering into the kitchen.

“Yea, I’ll take a beer” she said following him into the kitchen in just her bra and panties.

“That’s a good look,” he said, handing her a beer.

“Thanks, I was thinking this bra wasn’t getting enough appreciation for the hard work it does.”

“Well I for one would like to salute it. It truly is doing God’s work.” He replied with a wink.

They went back to the couch and sat on opposite sides while he picked a movie on Netflix. As the movie played, they talked about the party she had been at and some new songs he was working on. As the evening wore on, (YN) could feel herself getting sleepier from her long day. She felt her head getting heavy as she slowly leaned toward Frank.

She woke up the next morning still on the couch, her head was on this chest and his arms were wrapped around her. She didn't move, not sure of how to react to the position she was in.

They had been friends for a long time before that one night when they were at a party and someone suggested Seven Minutes in Heaven. (YN) had been a little worried, but also quite exhilarated when she realized her partner was Frank. They had both been liquored up enough to throw caution to the wind the second the door to the closet shut behind them.

Their lips crashed together, hands in hair and all over each other. The seven minutes passed too quickly, so when the attention of the party was off them and their disheveled state, they snuck off to another room to finish what they had started.

At that point in their lives, (YN) had just gotten out of a shitty relationship and had no interest in getting into anything else serious anytime soon, and Frank was fine with just having fun. She and Frank’s chemistry led them to hooking up a few more times before they officially agreed to do the friends with benefits thing. Over time she warmed back up to the idea of being in a relationship, but she didn’t actively pursue anything because she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be with Frank. She always had felt jealous when he let her know he was seeing someone, but she was terrified of ruining things with him, so she never let on to how she felt.

Now as she woke up with his arms around her like that, it felt quite intimate, bordering on relationship-y behavior. Even if she did decide to risk it all with Frank, now wouldn't be the time as she'd just be a rebound, so in that moment she decided she just needed to back off for a minute and let things even out a little, and get back to normal.

"Hey," he murmured, waking up.

"Hey" she replied, pulling herself up from his arms.

"You want some coffee?" He asked sitting up and shuffling off to the kitchen.

"Yea sure" she said following behind him, sitting on a barstool at the counter as she watched him make the coffee.

"What are you doing today?" She asked. That voice in the back of her head nagged for even asking the question. They weren't a couple, they didn't just hang out every day they were free, why even bring up the topic?

"I'm gonna go down to record a few of those demos I was telling you about last night" he replied, pulling out a couple mugs. "But you wanna hang out later?"

"Nah" She replied, shaking her head. A concerned look crossed his face. He wondered what he had done as he handed her the mug.

"You got something better to do?"

"Frank, I'm gonna be straight with you, I'm not looking to be a rebound, you know that. That’s not what I signed up for.”

"I'm not trying to use you as a rebound! I just thought you’d want to hang out since it’s been a while. I don't want anything to change what’s going on with us," he lied. 

It wasn't completely a lie, he didn't want her to be a rebound, but he did want things to change between them, he wanted them to be more. He did want a relationship with (YN), that's why he never put effort into his other relationships, because they never were with her. But he didn't want to drive her away, so he kept being friends with benefits, so at least he could be with her in some way.

She considered what he was telling her, not completely believing him. "Mmk," she replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Can I at least give you a ride back to your place?”

“You're such a gentleman," she smirked. "But I’d appreciate it.”

~

Over the next few weeks, (YN) and Frank settled back into their usual routine for when they were both single. They would text regularly, stop by each other’s place to hook up at least once a week, and sometimes hang out if a group was getting together.

Once things had normalized between them, she started to stop worrying so much about whether Frank was using her as a rebound. She did notice though that he still was being more physically affectionate than he used to be, putting his arm casually around the back of her chair when they were sitting next to each other, holding her for a little longer after hooking up, she'd wake up sleeping against him. She realized that maybe she was keeping up the affection just as much as he was, but that didn't change the fact that she just didn't think they should be pursuing a relationship.

On a quiet Tuesday in the salon, Jenny and (YN) were the only two working and chatting about life between clients.

"(YN) , don't take this the wrong way, but I have to ask. Are you still just hooking up with your friend?" Jenny asked

"Yea, but it's good, it's fine! It's what we want to do, ya know? Like for a while I was worried that he was catching feelings, and sometimes I get jealous, but we're just having fun and we're good."

"Yea, but have you talked about it recently? Like you said it seemed like he was getting attached."

"We did talk about it, and he said he wasn't trying to rebound and I believe him, and things went back to normal."

"And what about your jealousy?"

"Damn Dr. Phil!" (YN) retorted. She was surprised at the intense line of questioning coming from her friend. She was even more surprised at the knowing smirk that was on Jenny's face. "What?!" She snapped.

"There's nothing wrong with being vulnerable! Let him crack that hard shell you have around you, I'm sure you have a soft, gooey center in there somewhere!"

"He's found my soft center plenty of times, he's very good at that actually." (YN) said with a wink, getting up to prepare her work station for her next client.

"(YN), ew! But just think about it. What honestly could be the worst that would happen?" Jenny called after her.

"I could lose him and everything we have," she muttered under her breath.

~

(YN) was crammed in a booth with Frank, Mikey, Gerard, Ray and a few others at the afterparty celebrating another sold out show. It had been a long night of partying, but (YN) was having a lot of fun since it had been a long time since she got to hang out with the whole band. She did notice that Frank had kept his arm around her shoulder for most of the night, but she decided to let it slide.

Eventually the group started to get pulled away into different conversations until (YN), Frank and Ray were the only ones left in the booth.

"Ray, that girl over at the bar has been tryna to eye fuck you for a while now. Are you gonna do something about it?" (YN) asked, as she drew their attention to the girl at the bar.

"I see that," he said, taking the last swig of his drink and sliding out of the booth. (YN) and Frank both laughed as he made his way over to her.

"What do you think his chances are?" She asked, taking a drink.

"Eh, probably pretty good, she does seem into him."

(YN) could feel Frank's eyes on her. "What?" She asked, turning to look at him. He reached up to her cheek and pulled her in to kiss him. She didn't protest as he deepened the kiss, but after a moment the voice in her head started screaming 'What are you doing? This isn't how you two act in public!'

"Frank, what are you doing?" She asked, pulling back.

"I don't know anymore, (YN). I... fuck..." he stammered.

She knew where this was going because she had felt it building for a while now. She grabbed her bag and slid out from the booth.

"(YN) , come on, don't leave like this." He said following her out of the bar into the cool night.

"Frank, what are you doing?" She said putting an emphasis on each individual word, as if saying it more clearly would somehow spark clarity in his mind. She looked up at him, his hazel puppy dog eyes filled with fear and frustration. After a long moment, he still hadn't replied so she turned leave when he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

"(YN), I love you, ok? I fucking care about you and I don't give two shits about what we've agreed we're supposed to be, or what we aren't supposed to say. You are the reason none of those other relationships worked out. You're the one I always come back to, over and over again."

"Fucking hell man!" She shouted as she put her hands over her face. Her head was spinning. This was everything she had known deep down all along, it was all she wanted to hear for so long. But now that it was happening, she was panicking.

Frank took her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face, but she pulled her wrists away from him with a jerk, taking a step back and drawing in a deep breath.

"Ok, fine! I'm out of excuses. I've always had feelings for you too. Every time you tell me you have some girl you're seeing it made me so mad, and at first I didn't want anything more with you or anyone, but now I do and now I know you do too, so let's fucking do this Frank. I'm in. I love you too, goddamn it."

"You're mad that you love me?" He asked, laughing.

"Shut up" she said, pushing on his arm. He laughed again and took her face in his hands and placed a kiss on her lips with every ounce of passion he had been holding back for all the years and she wrapped her arms around his neck. When they separated, he took her hand and they went back into the bar to find Ray back at the table alone.

Even though he was dejected from his strikeout, Ray couldn't have been happier to see his plan to play Seven Minutes in Heaven all those years ago had finally paid off.

[softboywriting]

Don’t Go | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn have an unusual friend/relationship and it’s finally time to take the next step. [non AU] [fluff]

Word Count: 1.2k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Shawn: Come over. I just got home.

You stare down at your phone. Heart racing. Hands shaking. Shawn being home is the best news ever. You've missed him so much and you know exactly what he wants, what you want, and you're gonna give it to him. 

Half an hour later and Shawn opens the door of his apartment for you. He's got on pajamas, hair a mess, cheeks pink. Before you can say anything he pulls you in, bear hugging you as he closes the door behind you. 

"Miss me much?" You giggle and he hums into your hair. 

"I put the couch together. The new ottoman makes it like one huge bed." 

"And that's where you wanna do it?" 

He nods, dragging you over to the small living room. The couch is set up with blankets and pillows all over the white cushions. You give him a look and he just flops back into the puffy white comforter covering the majority of the end of the comfortable mess. 

"We can watch a movie. I even have food, I actually went shopping before I came home." He says softly.

You toss your purse aside on a chair and crawl onto the blankets. "So you want the full treatment huh?"

"Yes please."

"Come here then." You sit yourself down in the middle of the bedding and Shawn wiggles around until his head is in your lap. "You know I don't do this for just anyone." You tease and he he smiles big.

"I know."

"You're special." You giggle and cup his cheeks. He looks up at you with those soft hazel eyes. They're the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Now relax."

"I will." He hums and closes his eyes.  

You go to work, fingers massaging his face and temples gently, thumbs working over his sinuses and down his cheeks. This is you and Shawn's thing. You met him about two years ago at a party for New Years Eve. You remember finding him at the bar set up in his kitchen and chatting a bit before he mentioned he was having headaches frequently and you said you knew a few tricks to get rid of those. It was just an off hand comment, you never meant anything of it. But one thing led to another and you were giving him a full face and head massage in his bedroom while the rest of his friends partied in his apartment at midnight. Two years and you've been doing this for him whenever he gets home from tour or wherever he has to do. Last year you went from just face massage to shoulders and back. You're not a masseuse and you're not trained in this at all, you're just good with your hands, you always have been and Shawn really, really likes you. 

Shawn moans softly as you work your way down his jaw and his neck. His muscles are tight, strained from singing so much lately. "Why can't you go everywhere with me?" 

"Because I have a job." You laugh and he opens one eye to look at you. "A job that's not massaging you."

"But I could be your job."

"No Shawn. You'd be spoiled rotten if I did that. Besides you know that would never fly with your management or fans."

He groans, and you run your hand through his hair, tugging gently. "God yes, just like that." You tug again and his jaw goes slack. He's such a sucker for hair pulling. 

You cup his jaw and he presses his face into your hand, mouthing at your thumb near his lower lip. It's funny, seeing him completely gone for you. He's such a control freak usually, you know how he is, always wanting to be in charge and to have the last say in everything. But with you he's unashamedly weak, putty in your hands. 

"Do you wanna stay?" He mutters. 

"I can't."

"You can."

"Shawn." You slide your hands down over his chest. "You know this is meant to be no strings attached. We agreed on that when we started."

"Well I hate it." He opens his eyes and stares up at you tenderly. "I hate no strings attached. I hate sneaking around to see you just for a massage and some company. I hate that I can't date you because-" 

"Shawn." You slide your hand over his throat and he whimpers softly. "You're talking too much."

"I am not. I want you." 

"You can't want me."

Shawn sits up and grabs your hands in his. They're so rough, callous from the guitar strings. "I'll be home for a while now. We could try. I could...you could stay here with me."

"I can't Shawn." You have to fight him on this even though it's all you want as well. It's just not feasible. He travels too much, lives a life in the spotlight, two things you're not up for. As much as it kills you, you have to deny him. "You know if we get too attached to each other it'll complicate things. You've got too much going on to have time for a relationship."

"I'm already too attached." He whispers softly, looking down at your hands. "I've been attached for a long while. It's stupid, I know. We said we would just be friends, just do this, not go any further because of my life. But I fucked up."

You pull a hand from his and run it over his messy hair. "It's okay. We knew the risk we were taking, being so physically comfortable and reliant on each other. I've gotten attached too but-" 

Shawn leans forward and kisses you. "Stay with me." He cradles your head in his hands. "We'll figure out what to do later. Please?" His nose bumps yours and he lets out a shaky breath. "Please." 

"I'll stay tonight." It's risky, a mistake you're sure, but you can't take it back now. 

Shawn grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This time you kiss him back, holding his head the way he holds onto yours. "Thank you." 

Midnight. You wake up and you're unsure where you are, then it hits you. You're at Shawn's apartment, in his bed, curled up in his bedspread. This was never supposed to happen. 

"Don't go." 

You look over and see Shawn is awake, his face illuminated by the dim light of the Toronto skyline pouring through the open window. "What?" 

Shawn turns, looping his arm around your waist. Securing you to his chest. "I've been waiting for you to get up and leave." 

"You haven't been to sleep?" 

"No."

"Shawn, you should sleep." You turn in his hold and brush back some straw curls. "Stop worrying about me."

"I'm so scared you're going to leave and never come back." 

"I'd never do that to you." 

Shawn presses his face into your chest and you rub his shoulder gently. "It's happened before."

"No, no, I'm not going anywhere." 

"I fell for you." He mutters into your skin. "I fell so hard." 

You hold his head against you, heart racing, stomach clenched. You've got it so bad for him. To know he has it just as bad is insane. "Shawn?" 

"Yes?" 

"I fell too." 

He shifts so he is laying face to face and he touches your lips with his fingertips, admiring you silently for a moment. "I guess we were meant to be. Can't fight love." 

You smile softly. "You can't."

"I'm glad you stayed the night." He says, leaning in and kissing your lips tenderly. 

"I'm glad I stayed too." 

End. 

------------------

Thank you so much for reading. Please reblog if you enjoyed, want to save it, or just b/c you read it. Thank you again! -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****