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kar3npage · 4 years

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Next to You

Neil Josten works as a math professor and lives a comfortable life in a neighborhood that happens to house all of his closest friends. He meets Andrew Minyard, the owner of the quaint bookstore down the street, at a barbeque and makes the mistake of agreeing to go to his book club. Lots of Andrew being an obviously lovesick fool, Neil being oblivious, and their friends loving them unconditionally.

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Neil Josten made his way down the quaint street that he somehow managed to get an apartment in. His wheelchair clicked loudly on the pavement, and he got a few sympathetic looks as he rolled past. He does his best to ignore it, though some days that’s easier said than done.

It’s been years since his father died at the hands of Stuart, and a bit more than a year since the rest of his father’s circle was finally caught and imprisoned. No matter how much time passes though, Nathan Wesninski left a lasting impact. The scars on his arms and face make sure that everyone knows that something horrific happened to the young man with red hair, and the wheelchair ensures that he is noticed in every situation.

“Hey buddy!” Matt is easy to find in the cafe they always meet at. To begin with, they always sit at the same table so that Neil can get there comfortably. Also, he is freakishly tall compared to most people, and the spiked hair adds to his height. “Dan sends her apologies. Emergency at work,” Matt says with a grimace and pushes forward the coffee that he ordered for Neil.

Matt and Neil have been best friends since they met in physical therapy when Matt got an injury while he was playing Exy in university. Neil was the first person Matt introduced Dan to when they started dating, and Neil was the one that Matt ran his business plan through when he first decided that he wanted to start a veterinary clinic. Matt was the one that Neil called when he got lonely in his empty apartment, and Matt was the one who forced Neil to get a cat. Neil couldn’t imagine a life without their weekly coffees or Christmas dinner with the Boyd-Wilds.

Matt is describing in minute detail the reason why Dan was not able to come to coffee today - something about one of the high school students she taught struggling with something and going to her for help. The pride Matt felt for his wife was undeniable, and Neil nodded along and let him ramble.

“Anyway, I almost forgot! Allison is putting together a party on Sunday and you have to come,” Matt says after a few minutes.

Neil gives Matt an unimpressed look. “First of all, what is the party even for? Second of all, you know I don’t like parties.”

“I know, I know, but Kevin’s back in town! Plus you got your PhD, we need to celebrate that!”

“I got my PhD two years ago, you’ve got to stop using that as an excuse to have a party.”

Matt grins unapologetically and stares at Neil until he finally says “Fine. But I’m leaving early.”

Before he knew it, Sunday evening was there and Neil was reluctantly making his way to the Boyd-Wilds house. On his lap was a loaf of sourdough bread that he stress baked that afternoon, and a list of conversation topics that he printed off the internet.

While waiting for someone to answer the doorbell, he stuffed the list of questions in his pocket and inspected the cars on the street. There were more people here than normal. Quite a few more. He could recognize Wymacks beat up old truck and Allison's pink convertible, and he was assuming that the rental car across the street was Kevins. There was also a red SUV that he hasn’t seen before, and a very fancy, very shining black car in the driveway.

Allison opened the door like she owned the place, and threw herself on Neils lap for a hug before he could protest.

“I know you were dawdling, your apartment is, like, a block away.”

“Well I can’t walk very fast,” Neil says to Allison while half-heartedly shoving her away. She flicks his nose.

“You can get everywhere faster than me, stop trying to make me feel bad for you,” she sings, then grabs the loaf of bread out of his hand and walks inside without a backwards glance. “Literally everyone got here before you did. Even the monsters.”

Neil comes in hesitantly. There is a great deal of noise coming out of the kitchen, and Neil can see even more people in the backyard through the hallway.

“So… who all came?” Neil says as he emerges into the tight kitchen where Allison disappeared to. There are a multitude of new faces in the kitchen who turn to face him, and he immediately regrets not coming up with an excuse to stay home. Not like any of them would have believed him, but an attempt could have been made.

“Allison, you didn’t say he was that attractive!” a tall man says from the corner. His arms are wrapped around an even taller blond man who smiles genially at Neil and coming forward to offer a hand.

“I’m Erik, and this is my husband Nicky,” the blond man says in a thick German accent.

Allison beams at Neil. “I told you he was cute. And he looks even better when he wears the clothes that I choose for him,” she says to Nicky, giving Neil a pointed look.

“Nicky’s the one doing Matt’s marketing for him now.” Renee’s calm voice comes from the corner, somewhere behind Nicky and Erik. “And he helped Allison with her branding when she started designing.”

Neil hums so they know he heard, then backs out of the kitchen to go to the back. He thinks that he should probably say something polite while he leaves, but Allison and Renee know how he is, and he feels like he’s getting in the way of all the people actually cooking in the kitchen.

The backyard has even more people in it, but it has more space so he doesn’t feel as claustrophobic.

“Neil!” Matt says from where he’s standing at the barbeque with Wymack, sounding like he had no idea that he was coming. Dan and Abby wave at him from their lawn chairs. Another woman is chatting with them, her arm around a short blond man. Kevin is standing near Wymack talking at another small blond man. Neil catalogs the two, checking for differences without thinking about it.

Now he really regrets being here. There isn’t a single group of people that he can talk to that he knows entirely, and everyone else seems to be so comfortable chatting. He briefly considers using Sir as an excuse, but he knows that Matt would insist on going home with him if he thought that there was something wrong with Sir.

“No ones going to bite,” Allison says from behind him, making him jump. He realizes that he is directly in front of the door.

“I should go,” Neil mumbles as Allison walks past him carrying a bowl of salad to the table near the grill. “Nope! You can’t, it's your PhD party!” Allison sings.

Kevin turns around and notices Neil in the doorway. He looks intense, which is just his version of excited.

Allison's announcement has caught everyone's attention and Neil can feel the weight of their eyes. He accidentally makes eye contact with the man who Kevin was talking with, and he shifts his attention quickly.

“It’s not a PhD party, that happened years ago.”

Dan grins. “You know that we’re going to call everything that so you feel obligated to come, right?”

“We just like having you here, Neil,” Renee says sweetly from beside him. Neil can feel his face heating up. “Have you met everyone yet?”

At the shake of his head, Renee introduces the new ones in the backyard. “Andrew is the one with Kevin, he owns the bookshop down the street from the cafe, and then over there is his twin Aaron, and Aaron's wife Katelyn. They work at the hospital together as surgeons.”

“The bookstore you go to all the time?” Neil asks. Andrew is wearing all black despite the summer heat, and his gaze is blank as he watches Kevin get worked up over whatever he’s talking about. Most likely Exy, since he’s been making an Exy podcast since he stopped playing in university.

Renee hums a confirmation. “Andrew and I have tea and cake at the bakery every Saturday. I supply treats to the book club he hosts,” Renee says with a smile. Her bakery is famous around the neighborhood for having the prettiest and most luxurious treats in the city. The woman who helps her run it, Betsy, makes Neil just as uncomfortable as Renee does. That combined with his dislike for sweets means that he very rarely ends up in the shop.

“He hosts a book club?” Neil says, staring hard at Andrew. He doesn’t know why his brain has latched onto the man like this, but he can’t help but be fascinated with how contradictory he seems to be. A man with bigger biceps than Matt who likes Renee's cake (and company) and runs a book club.

Renee smiles, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Oh yes, you should join us sometime. We’re reading Emma at the moment, in honour of the movie coming out.”

Neil narrows his eyes at Renee, but she doesn’t seem to be joking. He’s saved from the need to answer by Erik and Nicky coming out with more food and Wymack announcing that the burgers are done.

Andrews eyes keep sliding over to the redhead with a deer-in-headlights look as he completely blocks the door. Kevin has not shut up about Andrews' missed chance at going pro, and Andrew started blocking him out ages ago. Nearly as soon as Kevin started talking, actually.

Renee winks at him when she notices where his gaze is fixed and he glares at her. Her smile just grows as she finds a lawn chair near Allison. Wymack interrupts the staring contest by putting out the burgers and Andrew bullies his way into line at the table by the grill to fill his plate. Kevin has moved to the back of the line to talk to the redhead, who takes the attack surprisingly well. He makes eye contact with Andrew and gives him a ‘what can you do’ kind of shrug and smile while he nods along to Kevins rant. Andrew pretends he was never looking at them and loads his plate up with bread and potato salad.

“I invited Neil to book club, I hope you don’t mind,” Renee says to Andrew when he sits down in the empty chair beside her.

Allison leans forward to point her fork at Andrew. “I hope you know that I saw you ogling him.”

Andrew glares at her and Renee kicks her foot gently. “I think you and Neil would get along well,” Renee says.

“Who said I wanted to get to know him,” Andrew says while staring at a smirking Neil arguing with Kevin. Kevin’s face has gone an alarming shade of red and Wymack is watching them with a faintly fond expression on his face.

Allison snorts and turns to Katelyn to chat. Renee wisely changes the subject to her thoughts so far on Emma.

Opening the bookstore first thing in the morning is one of Andrews less hated chores. He likes the way the store smells, and the awed silence that it has before customers come in. Robin, his only employee, always takes the evening shift, so he has the whole morning to himself. He starts by setting up a new display in the front window, losing himself to the satisfying feeling of creating something.

The mornings are usually pretty quiet, since the neighborhood has a habit of waking up late whenever possible. The only other shop open is Renee’s bakery down the street, and Boyd’s vet clinic, which he walked past on his way from his place.

Bee drops by at lunch like she often does, with a mocha and a croissant. Bee is Renee’s business partner in the bakery, and responsible for the pastries. The two of them adopted Andrew into their social circle as soon as he became a regular at the bakery when he first opened the bookstore.

“Renee mentioned that we might have a new member of book club this month,” Bee says as she admires the new display. Andrew does not miss the sparkle in her eye, or the pleased smile that she tries to hide by taking another sip of her hot chocolate.

Andrew doesn’t answer.

“It will be nice to hear new opinions,” Bee muses. He can tell that she’s fishing for a reaction, so he places all of his attention on stacking the newly arrived copies of The Glass Hotel. When he turns around, Bee is watching his carefully.

“You know,” she says slowly, “it’s always a good thing to add to your social circle. Neil sounds nice. Matt always has good things to say about him.”

Andrew gives her a dirty look, which she easily ignores. “And he sounds like someone you would get along with. Allison told me that he has his PhD in some sort of math. And he has a cat.”

Andrew snorts. “So having a cat is supposed to make me overlook the fact that he’s interested in math.”

Bee laughs and gives Andrew a knowing look.

A week later, and Neil is starting to get restless at home. He appreciates that the university allows him to teach online classes, but sometimes too much time with only Sir as company makes Neil think weird thoughts. He decides to get a sandwich from the cafe, after dismissing the thought of bothering Matt at work. He knows that he could always call Allison, since she is the boss and can do whatever she wants (or so she says), but he’s in a melancholy mood and he knows that she would force him out of it. For some reason, he wants to just wallow for a minute.

The day is crisper than Neil thought that it would be, but it’s a good kick to his system. He peaks in the window of the clinic when he goes past, and he’s suddenly glad that he didn’t text Matt earlier. It would just make him worry, and it looks like he’ll be busy today.

At times like these, Neil can’t help but feel just a little bit like a chore for his friends. He can always hear the busyness behind Allison when he calls her during the day, and he knows that Matt drops nearly everything to make sure he’s okay. He could always call Wymack, but Wymack is busy trying to save every kid that he comes across at the clubs he runs. Abby is constantly telling him that he’s no bother, but she is also busy at her work as a physical therapist.

The melancholy back as strong as ever, Neil makes his way listlessly down the street. It’s a quiet day today, and all he has to do when he gets home is mark some tests, so he takes his time eating his sad looking sandwich.

It seemed like fate that the bookstore was directly across the street from the cafe. How had Neil never payed attention to that before now?

It’s as quaint as the rest of the stores on the street, but with a darker colour palette than the rest. The window boasts various beautiful copies of Jane Austen books with a poster with information about the book club. The clean design of the poster reminds him of Allisons, and he wonders if Nicky does the marketing for Andrew too.

Neil sits in the cafe for 45 minutes before working up with courage to check out the bookstore.

A small bell rings as he struggles over the cracked concrete at the entrance to get into the store. By the time he actually looks around, Andrew’s flat gaze is heavy on him. He can feel a flush rise up the back of his neck.

Neil clears his throat a few times and tries to pretend that he’s not fazed by the staring. “Renee mentioned that you had a book club?” he says, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

Andrew keeps staring at him. “I think she said the book was Emma, but she didn’t say what day it was.”

“Next Tuesday.”

“Oh.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow. “You’ve got something else to do that day?”

“No, I just won’t be able to read the book by then,” Neil says, and to his horror, he feels the flush move onto his cheeks. He looks at a random book in an attempt to hide it.

When he looks back at Andrew, he’s relaxed back into the chair behind the counter. “Most members don’t read the whole thing before the club gets together. Some of them haven’t even started it, they just come for the conversation.”

“Really?” Neil says. The shame at not being a fast reader is starting to fade. He can’t imagine Andrew lying just to make someone feel better, and he has a strange trust for the near stranger.

Andrew tosses a small paperback book to Neil, and Neil fumbles to catch it. It’s the edition of Emma with the movie cover. Andrew waves away Neils offer to pay when he gets to the counter.

“Book club discount,” Andrew says while fidgeting with his sleeves.

“That’s not a great business practice, giving away books for that many people every month.”

Andrew just shrugs.

Neil’s at home and has read the first chapter of the book before he remembers that he was sad.

“Was that Neil that I just saw leaving the bookstore?” Nicky asked far too enthusiastically as he came barreling into the store not two minutes after Andrews bizarre interaction with Neil finished.

“Nope,” Andrew says and puts his book in front of his face to block out Nicky.

“I love Neil! Is he going to hang out with us now?”

“Why would him coming to the store mean that he was going to hang out with us?”

“So it was him! Ha!”

Andrew rolled his eyes and turned the page despite not having read a single word on that page. When Nicky is silent for a few seconds, he puts the book down to look into his thrilled cousins face.

“I think it would be nice if he joined us for family dinner next month,” Nicky says brightly when he notices that he’s caught Andrews attention again.

“Why would he be invited to family dinner,” Andrew says flatly. He spends a moment putting all of his energy into ignoring the daydream of Neil being a part of the family. Andrew feels like a creep, having this weird little fascination with someone who he barely knows.

“Allison said that he doesn’t have any family. Isn’t that sad?” A hint of true sadness pokes through Nicky’s facade and Andrew is abruptly reminded that Nicky’s family is just him, Aaron, and Erik now. “Plus, he’s funny! Did you hear him sass Kevin at the barbeque? Even Aaron laughed!”

“Aaron didn’t laugh, he was coughing. But fine, I’ll invite him,” Andrew says with absolutely no plan to invite Neil.

“No, I don’t trust you to invite him. I will,” Nicky says firmly.

Andrew doesn’t sleep that night. After knowing that Neil will be at book club, and then at family dinner next month (now that Nicky has taken that into his own hands, Neil won’t have a choice but to come), Andrew is starting to feel the stress that usually only pops up after a particularly bad nightmare.

After much introspection, he realizes that it’s not seeing Neil that's causing the stress, but the way that everyone has been watching their interactions.

As soon as 4am hits, Andrew gets up and walks to the bakery. Sure enough, the light is on in the back and Bee’s yellow Mini Cooper is parked in the employee lot. Andrew knocks on the back door and tries not to make eye contact with Bee, who is wearing a knowing, empathetic look on her face.

Andrew settles at the table in the back and watches Bee work. The silence is soothing, and his muscles relax for the first time all night. After a while, she brings over some hot chocolate and sits down across from him.

“If you want me to get the others to lay off of you about Neil, Renee and I will tell them to stop,” Bee says gently.

“That’s not the problem,” Andrew says, his voice gravelly from disuse. They look at each other for a long moment, both waiting for Andrew to figure out what he means to say.

“Neil doesn’t know, and I feel dirty,” Andrew finally says dully.

Bee hums and takes a sip of her hot chocolate. “Do you want to tell him?”

Andrew snorts. “I barely know him.”

“Well, I don’t think that you should feel dirty. And I’m sure he’s been teased by Allison by now, so you don’t have to worry about him not knowing what the others are saying.”

Andrew lets her words sink in, then nods. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

Bee smiles, and brings over a hot chocolate croissant after taking the batch from the oven.

“I don’t think that’s very good business practice,” Andrew tells her, as he takes a burning bite.

He doesn’t feel so conflicted when he opens the bookstore, and it ends up being a better day than he thought that it would be.

Neil is enjoying the book more than he thought he would, but he has had much less time to work on it than he planned. After spending most of his days marking, and helping a student over video conference, he was exhausted. And worried.

He could picture himself making a fool of himself at book club, and all of them realizing that he’s not nearly as smart as they all make him out to be.

“I’m sure it’s going to go great! Renee and Bee both love it, and Abby goes! Erik goes when he can, too,” Matt assures him over the phone while Neil tries to come up with an excuse just in case someone confronts him for not going.

“I’ve only read a few pages,” Neil says slowly.

“That's a few pages more than me! Plus, we both know you have a lot of thoughts about it,” Matt says with a grin in his voice. Neil wishes he hadn’t told Matt about the characters over coffee the other day.

Sir is purring delightedly on Neils chest. “I can’t go, Sir is on my lap,” he tries again.

Matt pauses, but Neil hears Dan in the background. “No! That’s not an excuse! Sir cuddles you all the time.”

Matt sighs into the phone. “She’s right, buddy. I think you’ll have fun. And they have free coffee and stuff. That’s always fun.”

20 minutes later, Neil is miserably locking his apartment door and officially on his way to book club.

The atmosphere is surprisingly warm and cozy in the book shop at 7pm. There’s soft music playing, and people are chatting in little groups. There are only a few people that Neil doesn’t recognize, and the circle of chairs taking up most of the floor looks comfortable. For some reason Neil was expecting this to feel more like a test.

Abby beams when she sees him hovering by the door and waves him over. Neil recognizes the woman she’s talking to as Katelyn.

“We were wondering if you would come,” Abby says warmly, knowing his history of wiggling his way out of social situations.

Katelyn smiles at him and sits on the closest chair so he doesn’t have to look up at her. Neil feels a bit grateful at that, and even more so when she offers him a cheese scone and a cup of coffee from the center table.

Katelyn launches into a story about a patient, and Erik works his way to their group.

“Neil,” he says quietly as a greeting, and Neil gives him a shy smile. “Nicky was wondering if you wanted to come to dinner in a few weeks. He’s promising to make enchiladas.”

Neil swears that his brain short circuits for a moment. “You want me over… for dinner?”

“Here, I’ll get your number and Nicky can text you the time and place,” Erik says, ignoring his shock.

Andrew comes out from the backroom with more coffee, and that seems to be a symbol of some kind for everyone to take their places.

“Okay, what did you think?” Andrew says bluntly, and that’s it. Everyone has opinions, some of them silly and some serious. Half of the group hasn’t finished the book, and Katelyn admits to not even starting it.

Andrew is having a light argument with Bee about whether Emma is a likeable main character with others popping in their two cents when Neil first says something.

“I thought she was kind of fun,” Neil mumbled. When he looks up, Andrew has an unreadable expression on his face.

“See, Bee? She’s fun,” he says in a monotone. Neil has to fight the smile threatening to show.

The meeting is chaotic and warm, and Neil learns a great deal about the people in the room. He learns that Erik is a huge fan of the worst Austen movies, and that Katelyn barely reads but always shows up to book club. He also learns that Andrew is incredibly passionate about the books, but that doesn’t surprise him as much as it probably should.

The only awkward moment is at the end when everyone starts to help put their chairs back in place. When Neil offers to help, the room goes quiet.

“Take this,” Andrew says gruffly and shoves the tray of mostly finished treats at him. Andrew takes the coffee cups and walks to the back, so Neil follows him.

The back room is nearly as cozy as the front of the shop, and a girl that Neil didn’t even know was there is grabbing her bag to leave. Her name tag says ‘Robin’, and Andrew says bye to her almost fondly.

Neil puts the tray on the table in the middle of the room and watches Andrew move efficiently through the cramped space. He has a million questions to ask Andrew, but he’s not sure how to, so he contents himself with analyzing the room.

“You have a question,” Andrew says without turning around.

“I have lots of questions,” Neil says.

Andrew finally turns around and leans on the counter. “I’ll answer if you let me ask you something.”

Neil winces. “If it’s about the scars, you don’t need to bribe me to answer them.”

“It was something else, actually.”

Neil fidgets with the wheels for a moment. “Fine, I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.”

Andrew tosses his phone to Neil, and Neil feels a little thrill as he enters his number in. He texts himself so he can program the number into his phone. Matt’s going to be so proud to hear that he got two numbers today.

Andrew doesn’t say anything when he gets his phone back, just puts a tupperware container on the table so that Neil can pack up the leftover treats.

Before Neil leaves, Andrew says “Next months book is Atonement.”

Neil wakes up to four text messages. One is from Matt asking how the night went, one is from Erik warning him that he gave Nicky his number, one is emoji filled from Nicky, and the last one is from Andrew. It just says ‘You go first’.

Neil spends his whole morning messing up his marking because he’s thinking too hard about what his first question will be for Andrew. He gives up trying to work when Sir knocks over his coffee and nearly breaks his laptop.

Neil: What made you want to own a bookstore?

Andrews reply comes faster than Neil was expecting. He feels a little thrill when he hears the ping of his phone.

Andrew: Everything you could ask me, and that was your question?

Neil: You never said that there were topics that weren’t allowed.

Andrew: ...exactly

Neil startles when his phone starts ringing on the sofa beside him. Sir gives him a wide eyed look until he picks it up.

“I thought you were at work,” he says to Andrew.

“I would say the same thing about you, but I’m starting to doubt whether you actually have a job.”

“I do have a job,” Neil says smugly. “I’m a university professor. I teach online classes. And you’re avoiding my question.”

“There aren’t any customers in here, smartass,” Andrew says not unkindly. Neil smothers a smile. “So do you still persist in asking me why I wanted to own a bookstore?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t want to do anything,” Andrew says.

Neil stays quiet and waits for him to give him the rest of the answer.

“I like reading, and I don’t like libraries.”

“Okay,” Neil says. He feels strangely content on the phone. Normally he sucks on the phone, and forgets to answer. “Your turn.”

Andrew is quiet for a moment. “Why did you come to book club?”

“Matt told me I needed more friends, and he wouldn’t let me use Sir as an excuse not to go,” Neil says honestly. He’s found that ever since he became a real boy all those years ago, he has a hard time lying. It always leaves him feeling gross and wrong.

Andrew huffs on the other end of the phone. “You seem to have lots of friends.”

“That’s what I said. The argument wasn’t accepted.”

Sir meows at Neil until he arranges himself so she can sit on his lap.

“Is that your cat?” Andrew says, breaking a comfortable silence.

“You already asked your question,” Neil teases, tangling his hand in Sir’s fur. She starts her wheezing, loud purr and he can hear Andrew huff again.

“Tell your broken cat that she won’t make me look over your interest in math,” Andrew says.

“What?” Neil laughs. “Who told you I taught math?”

“You’ve caught everyone's attention. I can’t walk down the street without hearing a new fact about you,” Andrew says dryly. “Anyway, math is awful and a terrible subject to choose to study.”

“Math is interesting! It’s the only universal language!” Neil says, not nearly as upset about Andrews accusation as he normally would be. He’s halfway through a tangent on the wonders of math before he catches himself.

“Sorry,” Neil says sheepishly. “You’re probably not interested.”

“More than you would think,” Andrew says, sounding perturbed. “There’s a customer.”

Neil is surprised by the amount of disappointment he feels when the call stops.

It becomes a habit during the slow times in the day. Andrew calls Neil when he’s bored and finished putting away any new merchandise, or Neil will call Andrew when he’s tired of trying to understand his students confused writing. So far, Neil has learnt that Andrew was in juvie as a teen, and grew up in the foster care system. He learns that Nicky is their cousin and that he took surprisingly good care of Andrew and Aaron when they were angsty teens, and he learns that Andrew has always struggled with touch. He learns lighter things too, like how Andrews favourite movie is Baby Driver (but he will never admit that to anyone else because he has a reputation to uphold), and his favourite colour is blue.

Neil returns the favour but giving away as much information as he’s getting. During their eighth phone call he has a panic attack when he tells Andrew about his father, and how he came to be in a wheelchair. Andrew talks him through it calmly, and doesn’t give him any weird looks when he visits the bookstore two days later.

The month runs by much faster than Neil is used to, and he hasn’t called Matt in a lonely depression a single time. He feels oddly proud of himself for it.

When Nicky texts to remind him of the dinner that him and Erik are hosting, Neil is almost looking forward to it. He has heard from Nicky almost as much as Matt, and the texts have been just as enthusiastic.

He spends the afternoon before baking bread while he chats with Andrew. Andrew had practically forced him into accepting a ride in his ridiculous, fancy car, and has spent the entire afternoon giving him various warnings about Nicky and Aaron.

“Nicky will hug you,” Andrew says with a voice that sounds like he’s informing Neil of a death. “More than once. Erik’s not bad, but Nicky’s a hugger.”

Neil laughs while he kneads the bread. “It’s okay, Allison sits on my lap every time she sees me. People keep thinking we’re dating.”

Andrew hums in acknowledgement and continues with his warnings. “Aaron is judgy.”

“And you aren’t?” Neil says, thinking back to all of the customers that Andrew has thoroughly made fun of.

“He’s a different brand of judgy. Katelyn keeps it down for the most part, but he’s very rude,” Andrew says, like he doesn’t have any similar traits.

“How often do you all have dinner together?”

“A few times a year. Nicky insists on our family dinners.”

Neil pauses. “It’s a family dinner?”

The line goes quiet.

“Andrew? I can’t crash a family dinner,” Neil is starting to feel the root of panic in his chest.

“You wouldn’t be crashing it. Nicky and Erik invited you.”

“But he didn’t say it was for family,” Neil says nervously. Sir meows at him and jumps in his lap. He attempts to shove her off with his elbows so he doesn’t get flour on her.

“Neil,” Andrew says calmly. “I’m coming to get you in three hours. Sir is not an excuse to not come.”

“Fine.”

As promised, Andrew shows up at Neils door three hours later. His mouth goes dry when Neil opens the door. Neil has never put much effort into his appearance, so Andrew is definitely not ready for the button up shirt and styled hair. Neil's apartment smells like freshly baked bread, and the cat that he hears on the phone all the time is sitting comfortably on Neils lap, unconcerned with the fact that Neil is moving around the apartment and fidgeting while she does so.

The apartment is spare, with lots of space between furniture for Neil to move around. The kitchen counters a lower as well, and Neil navigates the room efficiently and quickly. He pushes off Sir with some reluctance, then grabs a loaf of bread and shoves it into Andrews hands so he can put on his jacket.

“You look nice,” Neil says nervously.

Andrew can feel his ears heat up. “You do too,” he says, though it comes out flat and uncaring. Neil beams anyway and leads the way out.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Andrew finally says when they are both in the car and on their way. “Nicky would die for you.”

“Nicky barely knows me,” Neil says, looking baffled.

“It only takes him a few minutes to latch on to people. Look at me and Aaron. One glance and now he won’t let go.”

Neil smiles gently at him and goes back to fidgeting with his cuffs.

Andrew had never payed attention to the accessibility of places until he met Neil. He is extremely aware of how cracked and uneven the pavement is in front of Nicky’s, and all he can think about is how cramped the living room is.

Neil is looking at the pavement with trepidation. “Would you be able to help me, maybe…” Neil says quietly.

“Yes.”

Neil nods and pops open his wheelchair, moving into it with practiced ease. Andrew waits for him to get comfortable before standing behind him give the chair a push.

They make it safely to the front door, and as Nicky welcomes them in, Andrew notices that the furniture in the living room has been moved so there is more space. Erik notices him looking and smiles, offering a hand to Neil as they come inside.

Aaron and Katelyn are already there, sitting in the dining room. Katelyn greets Neil just like she had a book club and starts a conversation with him about their next book. He can see the relief written all over Neils expression.

When Andrew looks over at Aaron, he’s watching him and Neil with an inscrutable expression. Andrew offers the bread to Nicky, not bothering to say it was from Neil. They all know that Andrew has very little patience in the kitchen.

Dinner goes better than Andrew had hoped. No one questions Neil's place there, and he seems to have a good time talking to Erik in German. Andrew interjects every once in a while, and Nicky looks like he’s going to cry when Erik lights up when he realizes that Neil speaks his language fluently.

It’s not until dessert that Aaron opens his mouth to Neil.

“So what makes you so special?” Aaron says, fixing Neil a suspicious look.

Neil blinks, and pushes his plate of dessert to Andrew to finish.

“Umm…”

Katelyn elbows Aaron and gives him a significant look, and Nicky just looks tired.

“Normally only family gets invited to family dinner. And Andrew won’t even take the time out of his day to phone his own twin, so it’s kind of funny that you made your way in so easily.”

Neils expression shutters and Andrew pushes away the dessert.

“I’m sorry,” Neil says in his professional voice. “If I would have known that this was just for family, I would not have intruded.”

“Aaron, Erik and I invited him,” Nicky says with a look that Andrew hasn’t seen since they were teens and Erik was still in Germany.

“Neil, the bread you made was incredible. Do you bake often?” Katelyn says sweetly. Aaron catches her eye and they have a bit of a silent conversation while Neil stares at his plate.

“I just think it’s unusual that everyone loved him so quickly, that’s all,” Aaron says. The room, except Neil, seems to collectively understand what's happening at the same time. Aaron is upset that they took Neil in so quickly when he had to fight for Katelyn, and when Nicky had to fight for Erik.

“I think we’re done here,” Andrew says when he realizes that Neil isn’t going to say anything else. Neil knows the rocky history between Aaron and Andrew, and he didn’t seem to get in between the two of them.

“Would you like to take home some of the pudding, Andrew?” Erik says sadly. Nicky looks like he’s valiantly fighting off tears, and Katelyn's face is nearly as stoney as Neils.

“No, we’re going to go,” Andrew says, and Neil follows him out of the house. Andrew waits at the door so he can help him over the pavement, and no one says a word until they are both settled in the car.

“I told you I shouldn’t have come to a family dinner,” Neil says quietly. Not in a blaming way, just sadly.

“That’s bullshit,” Andrew says. His hands are gripping the steering wheel with more force than completely necessary.

“It’s okay Andrew. I didn’t want to cause a fight.”

“You didn’t cause one.” Andrew stops at a stop sign and turns to look at Neil. “You didn’t cause one, it was already there.”

He waits for Neil to nod before he goes again. The rest of the trip is quiet.

The excitement doesn’t catch up with Andrew until a few days later. He thought that he was dealing fine with Aaron until he woke up and couldn’t get the energy to get out of bed.

It would be easy to be mad at himself. He has a habit of doing that. Bee and Renee always tell him that healing is just like that, two steps forward and one step back, but it’s easy to forget how devastating it is when the step back comes.

He closes his eyes for a few minutes and it’s already 9:30.

The minutes drag by slowly and too fast all at the same time. He’s too hot but there isn’t any energy to push off the blankets or open a window. He stares blankly at the ceiling and fights desperately for the memories not to overwhelm.

He isn’t sure what time it is when his phone rings. He lets it go, but it starts ringing again after.

He finally reaches over to answer, not saying anything once the call connects.

“Andrew?” Neil’s tentative voice says through the speakers. “I’m at the store and it’s still closed. I was worried.”

Andrew can hear the concern. He sighs and closes his eyes again.

“Do you want me to hang up?”

“No.” Andrews voice is gravelly.

“Okay,” Andrew can hear Neil's wheels against the pavement. “Do you want me to come over? You can say no.”

Andrew barely has to think it over. He doesn’t want Neil to see him like this, but he can’t get out of bed and he needs someone to open the window for him. He gives Neil his address and holds the phone to his ear while he waits. Neil doesn’t hang up.

When Neil gets there, he tells him where the spare key is, and the front door clicks open not long after.

“Andrew?” Neil's voice echoes through the quiet house.

“Hey,” Neil says when he gets to Andrews bedroom door. He doesn’t come inside, just talks from the hallway. “Have you eaten anything yet?”

Andrew turns to look blearily at him, and Neil leaves to look around in the kitchen. He comes back some time later with toast and a glass of water, and waits for permission to come into the room. He sits beside Andrews bed and starts reading Atonement out loud while Andrew eats, stopping every once in a while to make sure he stays hydrated.

Andrew doesn’t know how long they sit like that before his brain stop cycling and he’s able to look at the room clearly.

“You can stop,” Andrew says when he realizes that Neil’s voice is starting to go from talking so much. “Here,” he says, handing Neil a blanket from his bed. The room is getting cold with the window open, but he doesn’t want it closed yet.

Neil leaves much later, once it’s already dark outside, and Andrew manages to get some real sleep that night.

“Seriously buddy, I can’t believe you didn’t just chew him out,” Matt is still going on over the phone about the failed dinner party from a week ago. Neil is updating one of his courses while Matt rants. “What a dick move. Although, now that I think about it…”

After the silence goes on for longer than necessary, Neil says “Go on.”

“It’s notoriously difficult to get an invite to a Minyard family dinner.”

“You’re acting like it’s the Met Gala.”

“Hey, you remember what the Met Gala is! And I’m serious. It took Katelyn, like, two years of dating Aaron before she was allowed to go. Andrew refuses to have extra people there.”

“I know, that’s why Aaron was mad. And stop talking about Andrew like he’s not being reasonable.”

Matt is quiet for a bit. “I just think that Andrew should have been more open minded to Katelyn, and I wish that Aaron hadn’t been rude to you.” “You don’t know the whole story.”

“I know,” Matt sighs. “Out of everyone in the whole world, why did you choose Andrew Minyard?” The question doesn’t sound judging, just genuinely curious.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve never looked twice at anyone else. What is it about Andrew that caught your attention?”

“Andrew and I aren’t dating,” Neil says for the millionth time. Although, the more he thinks about it, the more Neil decides that maybe he would like that.

The usual suspects are at book club that Tuesday, all clutching their versions of Atonement. Some are filled with post-it notes and written all over, and others are in impeccable condition. Neil’s is somewhere in between. He didn’t manage to finish this one yet either, but he was pretty proud of himself for getting almost three quarters of the way through.

Erik and Katelyn come over to talk to him before anyone else. Neil can tell that it’s an apology of sorts, but he’s just glad that they don’t mention anything outright. He would rather pretend that nothing happened.

He waves at Andrew when he comes in, and Andrew gives him his coffee before putting the rest of the mugs down on the table. Katelyn winks at him for some reason at that.

The conversation is more somber for this book, but Neil enjoys it just as much, and he has much more to say now that he’s more comfortable with everyone. He also notices that there are more savoury options on the sweats tray.

Neil stays back to help clean the dishes in the back, and then stays after they’re all done. Bee smiles at Andrew before she leaves, and Erik promises to organize a movie night or something with them all, and then the shop is empty except for Neil and Andrew.

“I have a question,” Neil says before he can lose his nerve.

Andrew nods once and watches him intensely, like he always does.

“Are you… Would you-,” Neil tries to line up his thoughts into a sentence that doesn’t sound weird or embarrassing.

Andrew doesn’t say anything, just watches him fluster his way through his words.

“I would like to kiss you,” Neil finally says.

“That’s not a question,” Andrew says, and for the first time in months, Neil can’t quite read his expression.

“The question was implied,” Neil says nervously.

“If this is some sort of sexuality crisis, I don’t want to be your experiment.”

“This isn’t a sexuality crisis. I’ve never been interested in anyone like I am in you.”

Neil’s pretty sure that the shop has never been this silent before. “I’ll leave,” Neil finally says. He can feel a rock in his throat that makes him want to be in bed with Sir’s comforting warmth on his chest. He tries to not think of the fact that Andrew probably won’t call him tomorrow like he usually does.

“Don’t be stupid,” Andrew says before Neil can get to the door. He raises an eyebrow after Neil turns around. “I didn’t say no.”

“You didn’t say yes either.” Andrew's face does something complicated. “Yes.”

Neil goes to Andrew, where he’s still sitting in the one armchair that he always chooses for book club.

“Yes?” Neil says when he’s right beside Andrew.

Andrew’s eyes are dark when he says, “yes.”

Andrew kisses as passionately as he argues about books, and Neils mind stops for a blissful moment. He can feel every inch of Andrews hand pulling him in by the back of his neck, feel the heat of Andrews body being so close.

He feels dazed when Andrew pulls away, and is pleased to see that Andrew looks nearly as ruffled as Neil feels.

“Would you like to go on a date?” Neil says.

“I thought you already asked your question,” Andrew says, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Technically the first one wasn’t actually a question.”

Andrew's mouth quirks up on one side.

Their date turns out to be a nice dinner at a park that Neil later admits was suggested by Allison. Andrew doesn’t mind, because he’s pretty sure that it would have been at the cafe if it was just up to Neil.

Andrew wishes everything was as easy as it was to start seeing Neil. Neil was practically incapable of keeping his emotions in around Andrew, and his bluntness made sure that miscommunication was avoided.

Aaron was a different story. All that Andrew wanted to do was ignore everyone else and let them figure out that Neil and Andrew were… something. Dating, he supposed. Unfortunately, Bee nearly forced him to talk it out with Aaron.

So here he is, holding his phone on a Saturday morning, waiting for his brother to pick it up.

He sighs when Aaron picks up, and is briefly tempted to just hang up and continue their relationship as it’s been for the past few years.

“Andrew?” Aaron says groggily. He sounds worried.

“Aaron.”

“Are you… dying or something?”

Andrew sighs again. “No. I wanted to talk.”

There’s a stunned silence, and then the sound of Aaron getting up and moving around.

“Okay,” he says hesitantly. “That’s… nice. Good. How is the store?”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

Andrew resists the urge to sigh again. “How is your job.”

“The hospital has been good. Busy, like always, but it’s been really good. Katelyn is working today, actually, so it’s just me home right now.”

The silence stretches like an elastic. Andrew wishes that he was talking to Neil, then blinks in surprise at his thoughts. He didn’t realize how much he actually enjoyed just talking to Neil.

“Is there something that you wanted to talk about in particular?” Aaron asks.

“I,” Andrew starts. It’s more difficult to get the words out than he thought it would be, but he squares his shoulders. “I am sorry that I didn’t like Katelyn. And Neil and I are together.”

“Oh. I mean, I knew you guys were dating.”

“No, you didn’t,” Andrew says, not bothering to explain that they didn’t start until recently. Aaron just huffs.

“Well, thank you,” Aaron says. “And… I’m sorry. About what I said to Josten.”

Andrew nods once, even though he knows that Aaron can’t see him.

“Erik invited us to that movie night. Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” Andrew says, already exhausted by this conversation.

“Okay. Well, see you then.”

“Yep,” Andrew says, then waits for Aaron to hang up.

Neil is stuck in that moment between sleep and waking, the feverish version of everyday life. He can see the soft grey of his bedroom wall, and the brick of the basement in Baltimore at the same time. Hear the whir of the ceiling fan and the giggles of Lola, smell the citrusy scent of his cleaning supplies and the metallic tang of blood.His legs ache in both realities.

As his mind clears, he realizes that the pain in his legs is likely what brought the past back so clearly. He stares hard at the white ceiling in an attempt to stop the thoughts spinning around his mind.

Tonight is movie night, he remembers.

It’s raining outside, the first rain for most of the summer and probably the reason for the constant discomfort in his tendons. He was hoping that he was past this, even though Abby was always warning him that there would always be times that this would happen. Long term pain couldn’t be avoided with that much damage, he would just have to have plans in place for when it hit.

Neil spends most of the morning trying very hard not to move, and not to think about his legs. It’s harder to distract himself when he doesn’t have anything to entertain himself. Sir seems thrilled with their extended lie-in, and he contents himself with watching her little belly move while she breathes.

The abrupt ringing of his phone startles him, sending sharp pains down to his feet. It takes eons for Neil to move enough that he can reach the phone. It’s already gone to voicemail by the time he’s caught his breath enough to look at who called. He calls Andrew back immediately.

“Nicky wants us to come by at 4 so we can have dinner and talk first,” Andrew says with vague disgust in his voice. It’s almost enough to make Neil smile. Unfortunately, he feels to guilty about the fact that he isn’t sure whether he’ll even make it to Nicky’s tonight.

“Hi,” he says to Andrew. “That’s usually how people start their conversations. With a greeting.”

Andrew snorts quietly. “Because you always follow societal conventions.”

Neils stifles a groan as he tries to sit up. He gives up in an awkward, half slumped position.

“Neil?” Andrew’s tone has changed and Neil realizes that Andrew had said something.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” he says, strain evident in his voice.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Neil can hear how pathetic it sounds, and desperately hopes that Andrew doesn’t. He doesn’t want Andrew to see how high maintenance he is when they’ve only been dating for a little bit.

“Where are you?” Andrew sounds concerned, and Neils gut clenches a bit.

“I’m at home, I’m fine.” “I’m coming over.”

“No, you don’t need to. You’ll see me tonight, anyway.”

Neil can hear a murmured conversation, muffled by a hand. “Robins taking the desk, and I’m coming over.”

“Wait, Robin is there? What time is it?” Neil can feel the first sparks of anxiety.

“It’s almost 2,” Andrew says, panting slightly as he walks.

Neil thinks of all the things he was supposed to do today. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to come to movie night,” Neil says, trying to quash the panicked note in his voice. “I have a lot to do today, I was supposed to have an online meeting at 10 and I totally forgot. And I need to record a few audio recordings to go with the notes for the last unit. And-”

“Neil,” Andrew waits until Neil stops rambling. “I’m at your door and I’m coming in, okay?”

Neil makes a noise of assent and clutches the phone to his ear until he hears Andrew walk in.

Andrews silhouette fills the doorway to Neils bedroom seconds later, and he becomes overly aware of how he looks, sagging on the bed with blankets strewn around him. Sir sits up sleepily and blinks at the intruder, then starts to have a very noisy bath. Neil gives Andrew a guilty look.

“What's wrong?” Andrew says, and his voice is so gentle that Neil has to blink away tears.

“I just slept in, thats all,” Neil says, like his bedroom doesn’t look like a murder scene. He thinks of the wheelchair, walker and other equipment sitting around his room. He’s trying to remember whether he put away all of the physical therapy equipment when Andrew sits down slowly on the edge of his bed.

“Are you sick?”

Neil sighs. “No, it’s the rain.”

A small wrinkle forms in between Andrews brows.

“My legs. The change in weather makes them hurt sometimes. Which is stupid, because the weather is always changing around here.” Neil tries to smile and fails miserably.

“What can I do?”

Neil blinks rapidly at the ceiling. He can hear Sir leave the room and feels irrationally abandoned by her.

“Have you eaten yet?” Andrew says, changing tactics. He leaves too when Neil shakes his head, and the lonely feeling reappears.

Both the cat and his boyfriend come back minutes later, the latter carrying a plate of food and a mug of tea with him. He also has pain pills in his hand.

“I was assuming that these would help, though I’m not sure how they were going to do that from the kitchen,” Andrew says.

“I have to have them with food.”

Andrew has managed to find one of the fancy trays that Allison bought him years ago and helps him prop himself up against the pillows before placing it down on his lap. There are fresh cut strawberries and bread with honey on his plate, and Neil stares at Andrew while he bustles around the room. He’s so focused on how his hair shines in the sunlight now streaming from his window that he almost doesn’t notice that Andrew’s cleaning the floor so that his wheelchair can move around easier.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Andrew says, but the blush rising in his ears betrays his feelings.

“You didn’t have to come here,” Neil says.

“What do you do when you’re by yourself and this happens?”

Neil shrugs. “I lie in bed until I think that I can manage moving, and then I take the pills with crackers or something. And then I end up sleeping on the couch most of the day because the pills make me feel weird.”

Andrew thinks for a moment. “Do you need ice? Or a heating pad?”

“Ice would be nice,” Neil mumbles into his tea.

Andrew pauses in the doorway, looking oddly hesitant. He nods to himself before opening his mouth. “Do you ever resent being in the wheelchair?”

Neil considers the question for long enough that Andrew almost leaves without an answer. “I used to. I was really angry after it all, and it felt like I couldn’t do anything by myself. But once all of the bandages were off and Abby had taught me how to do everything, I was really glad for the wheelchair. It means that I can be independent and move around without as much pain as the walker. And there are some benefits,” Neil grins. “I can move around the apartment and still let Sir sit on my lap.”

Andrew turns around, but Neil catches the small smile on his face before he goes.

Half an hour later and Neil is swaddled in blankets, comfortably full, and sandwiched between Andrew and Sir while they watch a baking show that Andrew made him swear that he would never tell Nicky that he liked.

Matt and Dan have always tried to get Neil to call them over when this happened, and now he is starting to see why. He feels safe and almost comfortable, the pain down to a manageable level with the care that he has been given. He wonders what it would have been like if he had admitted to needing help years ago.

“How would you feel about inviting everyone here instead,” Andrew says suddenly, pushing Neil out of his head. “You don’t have to. We could reschedule movie night, Nicky would understand.”

“Aaron wouldn’t,” Neil says with something close to a pout.

Andrew’s lips twitch upward before he gets control of his expression. “Aaron would understand too.”

“I couldn’t feed them, though,” Neil says morosely. He had been looking forward to this, strangely. Maybe because this time his friends were invited too. It was sure to be loud and chaotic, but Neil thought that it would be nice for all of his favourite people to be in one room.

“Idiot,” Andrew says with too much fondness for it to be insulting. “Nicky and Matt will bring food. And Renee’s doing dessert.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Andrew watches their friends and family get comfortable in Neil’s tiny living room. All of them are holding mismatched plates filled with food and have managed to move enough things around that they could all fit in front of the TV.

Neil is sitting beside him in the corner of the sectional, legs stretched out in front of him and a plate of fruit in his hands. He still looks pale and tired, but he keeps giving Andrew a brilliant smile and he belly laughed at a joke that Matt made, so Andrew has decided that offering to bring everyone to him was a good idea after all.

Matt and Dan have somehow contorted themselves so that they can fit on the armchair beside the couch, and Aaron and Katelyn are snuggled up on the other side of the couch. Aaron had even given Neil a respectful nod and a booklet of well-meaning advice on how to care for his legs when they arrived.

(Andrew had seen the way Neil tried not to laugh when he looked through the booklet, and how his muscles seemed to relax at the lack of a rude greeting from his brother)

Erik and Nicky were cuddled on Neil’s comforter on the floor, with Renee and Allison beside them. Kevin was leaned up against the armchair and cheerfully arguing with Aaron about what a proper diet looks like.

The movie had started half an hour ago, but most of them were talking over it while Nicky shushed everyone.

Andrew’s chest is holding an expanding warm feeling while he watches the mayhem, and when he turns to look at Neil, Neil’s expression mirrors the warmth.

When Neil falls asleep on his shoulder later while Sir kneads his lap, and his brother nods acceptance at him, he knows that this will be his future.

56 notes · View notes

janaeekook · 4 years

Text

1942 || {ksj}

It’s 1942 and the world is in the midst of World War 2 -- at a boarding school hidden in the country sides of the United Kingdom, 2 students begin to fall in love.

pairing: student!jin x reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: - just fluffy - sad -

“𝙠𝙞𝙢 𝙨𝙚𝙤𝙠𝙟𝙞𝙣, 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙙.”

•••

You sat in your favorite place in the school. It was a tall tower the windows gave a great view of the ancient school grounds. Looking out at the pretty scenery you found it hard to believe that there was a war happening in the distance. The grey sky looming over the school making everything dreary inside and out.

Your attention was drawn back to your work. The sound of your pen scratching at the parchment was all that filled the hallow circular room, you were sat in a low window sill. Though it was Saturday you still studied like you always did, and the tower was the only place for you to get some quiet. You were a determined student, your nose always in your books.

Infact, your barely registered when someone entered the room. He was a tall boy, broad shoulders. He was well kept and wore his uniform, his wire glasses framed his face perfectly. Your eyes traveled to his hands which held his own books.

"Oh I apologize." The boy was surprised about another person being there, but so were you.

"You're fine." You smiled, as you looked at him and took in his features. You willed your cheeks not to burn crimson, he was beyond handsome. Like he had been intricately crafted by the gods. You felt the strong urge to reach out and touch him, for in your head you thought he couldn't be real.

"I'm Seokjin." And yet he was real, the way the sides of his eyes crinkled ever so softly with a smile. It was all real.

"Y/n."

~And that was all it took; a simple exchange of names. You started to get to know eachother studying together on weekends in the tower. You had connected so easily it was as if you had known eachother for years. He almost made you forget there was a war raging on, that he could easily be taken away to fight.~

"Seokjin." Your head rose from your maths that You couldn't seem to focus on, his warm eyes wavered from his own work to meet yours from across the room, "Will you have to leave? To fight I mean." He gave a sad smile.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." But you knew he didn't and yet his words still calmed you. Quiet filled the room again.

It was 2 o'clock when you heard him close his textbook, the sound echoed and you looked over to him. He held a playful smile and a shadow of mischief beneath it. He walked over and helped you down from the window sill, his hand lingered on your waist before he withdrew it and spoke.

"Let's go do something."

"Like what?" His smile only grew, he grabbed your small hand in his and practically dragged you down the winding steps that led to the top of the tower. Your giggles filled the stair well as he pulled you along, when you reached the main floor he took you outside, "Where are we going?"

"My second favorite place." He led you to the edge of campus grounds that opened up into a expansive grove of aspen trees.

The sun had broken through the sheet of clouds, it shown between the trees, leaving splotches of sunlight that waved on the ground as the light breeze blew the delicate green leaves that clung to their branches. It was beautiful.

Although where you had come to a stop, was even more breath taking. A small clearing and singular oak tree, it's large branches twisted in every direction. What caught your attention though was a wooden plank swing hanging from one of the branches.

"It's beautiful." Seokjin's eyes had been studying your face like one of his school books. But when those words left your lips along with the smile that graced them he couldn't help but feel relieved that you thought so.

"You like it?"

"I love it." You walked closer to the swing before sitting on it. Seokjin just smiled before removing his tweed jumper that had your schools crest on the left chest pocket. He was left with only his white button down, his loosened striped tie adorning the schools colors and his black corduroy trousers. He set the jacket off to the side before coming behind you pushing the swing.

Your giggles filled the quiet scene, Seokjin just smiled uncontrollably. His feelings for the giggling girl had grown in such a short time, you always seemed to be together but never got bored of the others presence. He didn't know however that you thought the same thing, truthfully you started to like him when you spent hours just talking about your lives, your story's. It seemed harmless, really, but young love- and first love at that, is very powerful.

Your laughs died down as you noticed he was letting the swing slow before you felt him stop it completely. You looked over your shoulder, the height of the swing had brought your face almost parallel to his. Your eyes looked over his features trying to understand why he stopped the swing. He grabbed your chin and moved closer, he was kissing you, ever so softly, scared that if he kissed you too hard you might break.

The thought of someone like Seokjin kissing you was baffling, you even questioned if it was real, but when he pulled away you saw his handsome face and every feature up close. You felt the tingle on your lips from where his had been placed. He seemed equally as flustered as you were, but he spoke as he walked around so he now stood in front of you and grabbed your hands.

"Y/n, I know this is crazy and maybe totally irrational and I wouldn't blame you if it's too fast but, these past 3 weeks of getting to know you have been amazing. It feels like I've known you my whole life." He took a breath and looked you in the eyes, "I love you, y/n."

You just sat there trying to process his words which were so honest and vulnerable. He dropped your hands assuming your silence meant you didn't feel the same, you grabbed his face and his eyes looked up from the green blanket of grass beneath his feet. His sad eyes were reassured when he came to meet your glowing smile.

"Who said it was too early?" His lips found yours again, it was sweet. Sweeter than moments before when he confessed, his true feelings and yours shown bright like chalk on a blackboard, "I love you too."

•••

You didn't want to let his arm go as the two of you walked out of the timeless grove. The sun had told us, as we lay staring at the sky talking, that it was time for supper. You let go of his warm hand only when he opened the large door leading to the main hall where small groups bustled around and sat at one of the large tables.

After bidding you goodbye, He went off to his friends and you went off to yours. When you got to your small but quaint group of friends — Emma, Ashlee and Hope. They seemed relieved to see you, for they thought you had been eaten by wolves, or some other barbaric tale.

"And where exactly have you been?" Ashlee was the first to say something as you sat next to her and across from Hope and Emma.

"Oh didn't you see her come in, with that handsome boy over there Ashlee?" Hope pointed out, a large cheesy grin on her face.

"What's his name?" Emma spoke next with a warm smile, they were all seemed eager to know about the so called, 'tall dark and handsome' boy you walked in with.

"Alright, you caught me." You gave into their stares, "His name is Seokjin, I met him a couple weeks ago and we started to studying together on the weekends, and today -" you paused and looked to the boy who was laughing with his friends, there looked to be six of them. You smiled before looking back to your friends and continuing in a quieter tone this time, "he told me he loved me." Your three friends gasped, they began to squeal in excitement for you.

"What'd you say?" Ashlee asked, now completely invested in the story.

"That I loved him too." They all squealed again.

"Where do you find them, y/n?" Hope questioned, and you chuckled.

"You will find one, trust me." You reassured them before grabbing yourself some food.

You ate and talked about random topics, boys, the food, school work, a new romance novel Hope had read. Just typical things. Until of course curfew came around and everyone wandered off to their rooms, readying themselves for the school day tomorrow.

•••

The next morning you awoke to beams of sun leaking through your window. After checking your watch you threw the blankets from your body before going to change into your school uniform. Ashlee stirred in her bed stretching her tired muscles.

"What's the time?"

"6:15." You had your first class at 7:30. You and Ashlee shared a room, Hope and Emma shared as well and they were just across the hall. Ashlee willed herself out of her bed to get ready for the day.

All dressed and ready, you both left the room and met Emma and Hope in the hall. You walked to your first class together, mathematics. Seokjins friends, Taehyung, Jimin, and Yoongi, were also a part of the class. You had noticed your friends grow quiet fond of these three boys.

Hope would talk wonders of Taehyung and how he was just like a character in her books. Emma would flush at even the mention of Jimin's name, the both of them new to the subject of love, but they clearly had it for each other. Then Ashlee and Yoongi, other than sitting by each other every meal and class they had together, they didn't show much, but the glances and looks they shared told you they partake in things when no one is looking.

You all took your seats and waited for the teacher to arrive, each desk was filled with a tired looking teen whose eyes threatened to shut and welcome sleep back upon their bodies. Although Mr. Pierce never gave the chance, roughly pushing open the door and talking in his typical loud voice.

"Good morning class, get out your books please."

The rest of the school day went like any other day, History, Science and English. After your classes you found yourself in the library sitting at an empty table looking over your work. You stood from your seat before wandering into the tall shelves filled with books, you had a research paper for history to write.

You gasped at the feeling of two hands on your waist, you whipped around to see Seokjin. He smiled down at you, he stood rather close and you looked to see if anyone was watching. There was no one. Keeping his voice hushed Seokjin spoke.

"I forgot to ask you something last night."

"Well make it quick I'm busy." You said trying to hide the flush of your cheeks due to the close proximity. He only smiled knowingly at your behavior.

"Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

"You're really asking me that now?" You tried to fight off a smile, but ultimately failed.

"Is that a problem? Because I can wait, but I figured just in case we die." He said the last part as if he was a drama actor and you chuckled. How you got to meet someone like him blew your mind, and to think it was all coincidence.

"We're in a school library Seokjin, not on the battlefield."

•••

He did bug you a lot for your answer that night, and of course you eventually said yes, you'd be crazy not to. You went on adventures during your free time, never forgetting to study of course. Being by his side made it feel like you could defeat the world.

After one month him and his friends began to sit with your group at meals. You had all become quite close, and you saw your friends fall for the boys that were almost as beautiful as Seokjin, in your eyes at least.

Four months rushed past the both of you, of course when you're in love for the first time everything seems to stop, especially time. But really it chugs on. Picnics out to your favorite spot in the grove, they we so romantic, like something you'd once read in a book.

At eight months though was when the intimacy took hold of it all. Kisses became more starved than before, begging for more whenever you were alone. Touches on eachothers bodies turning desperate, wanting to touch the skin beneath. You'd never felt this way before, and you could not describe it better than an immense feeling of want. And then one day you found yourselves tangled in blankets laid out under the shade of an oak tree, it would forever be your favorite place after that moment. Your most vulnerable state, bare to his eyes. It was beautiful and rare, the way he looked at you with adoration and love. A moment you would not soon forget.

"Kim Seokjin, I could love you for the rest of my life. You could be the person I die loving and I'd be completely satisfied." You said as you laid next to him in the shade of the great oak, your unclothed legs tangled together under the blankets. You felt his chest rumble as he let out a chuckle.

"Well, I will love you for the rest of my life." He competed your proclamation with his own.

"What a lucky girl I am." You said before pecking his plump lips.

The two of you eventually decided to pull your clothes back on and head back to the school hand in hand. When you walked into the main hall you saw your friends all talking amongst themselves.

"Where have you two been all day?" Hoseok questioned. Seokjin and you looked to eachother, he spoke first.

"A picnic." He shrugged it off confidently, and you couldn't help but smile.

•••

Ten months felt like ten years, sneaking from our dorms at night, meeting in the place that started it all whenever we could. Wanting nothing more but to feel his skin on yours, to be in his embrace, feel the warmth his body gave off. His scent was intoxicating and fuddled your brain, preventing it from thinking with any form of logic. But what can you say, you're teenagers, logic is the last thing running through your minds.

You woke up one morning after being up into the late hours of the night with Seokjin, in the vacant tower.

"You woke me last night." Ashlee spoke bluntly from her bed, her voice was groggy.

"Sorry." You spoke, sheepishly apologizing for your actions. A hallow knock came from the door, and without giving either of you time to answer, Emma and Hope walked through the door.

They still wore their night gowns, Emma's was decorated with pale yellow flowers, Hopes also had flowers that were a light lavender shade. Ashlee had kicked off her quilt, her night gown, unlike the rest of your white ones was a dark navy blue with white trim lace. And yours was a beautiful mix of small royal purple flowers and deep forest green polka dots, spaced evenly on the white fabric.

"Rise and shine!" Emma spoke, a smile playing on her face. You yawned yet again, "Y/n were you out late again?" You only nodded.

"He said he'd be busy today, and wanted to spend time together."

"Well then, you can hangout with us today," Hope said, "We're all going out to a small watering hole Taehyung knows about."

You smiled, "That sounds great."

•••

You all walked through the grove of trees, you even passed the oak tree and smiled sadly. You eventually came upon the watering hole, it was too large to be considered a pond but too small to be a lake. Everyone stood admiring it for a second then Ashlee was suddenly thrown in. When she resurfaced She looked straight at Yoongi who had a devious smirk on his lips. He took off his shirt, throwing it aside before jumping in.

He was followed by Jimin and Emma, then Jungkook and Namjoon. They all splashed around playing in the water, You smiled at them from the bank where you sat on a conveniently fallen log.

"You not getting in?" You turned noticing Hoseok had taken a seat next to you.

"No, I'm just gonna watch."

"Is something wrong y/n?"

"Not really, I just wish Seokjin could be here with us." You told him.

"I understand," He chuckled, "we'll see him tonight at supper." He reassured me.

You talked with Hoseok as the others continued to crying out with laughter as they swam around the cool water. Hoseok and you laughed too as you watched Jungkook belly flop into the water. Being with your friends helped you keep your mind off of the fact that Seokjin was not with you.

The hours slipped passed as the sun moved lower. Causing the sky to become almost orange and the leaves of the aspen trees that surrounded the area to turn almost golden from the sheen of the sun. Everyone had been out of the water for a while now and you just talked and ate food that Jungkook and Namjoon stole from the kitchen.

"We should be heading back soon, supper is in 30 minutes." Hoseok said after checking his watch, Everyone agreed, gathering their things. The walk back was a joyful one, the boys all laughed as Ashlee, Emma, Hope and You sang Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree by The Andrews Sisters.

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me, Anyone else but me, anyone else but me, NO NO NO!" You giggled as you sang.

"They're good, don't you think Seokjin?" You heard Hoseok say his name.

"Wonderful." You heard his voice and smiled large before turning around, and sure enough he was there.

"When did you get here?"

"I was at the tree, but you didn't notice me." You only giggled and hugged him.

You held his hand the rest of the way back, you got back to the school you and seokjin were the last ones outside. You went to let go of his hand but he tightened his hold, you gave a questioning look to his conflicted features.

"Meet me in the tower after supper alright?" He asked with a weak smile.

"Of course, is something wrong?" You began to grow worried of his answer.

"Everythings fine." He kissed your forehead before he finally let go of your hand.

Everyone already had their food and were talking, well arguing. Jungkook seemed to be fighting everyone about something.

"Alright, lets ask y/n and Seokjin." Jungkook gestured to us as we sat at the table.

"Ask us what?" You asked.

"Who do you think ."

"You only drink banana milk and the chefs cook your meal of chicken strips or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich separately just for you." Yoongi stated. Jungkook just huffed and continued to eat his chicken.

Seokjin went off somewhere, you were distracted by your friends messing around in the common room. Your brain then hastily reminded you of what Seokjin had said and you hurriedly slipped from the room. You snuck off to the stairwell which your scurried to the top of, only to find Seokjin leaning against the singular desk he usually studied at. A record player played soft jazz music, your eyes lingered to the floor next to the desk which was littered with pillows and blankets, you bit your lip.

"I didn't forget." You said quickly.

"It's alright y/n, you're here now." He had pushed himself from the desk and now stood closer to you. His eyes were sad, the same as earlier.

"What's the matter Seokjin?" You stroked his arm comfortingly.

"I've been called, to the front lines." There was a deafening silence that not even the music could break, you swore your heart had stopped at his words. You shook your head not wanting to believe him, it was as if your world had shattered.

You stepped away, turning so your back was all he could see. You didn't want him to see how this was effecting you.

"Y/n, please, I've been planning this all day." You felt his hands on your waist, wanting to give into his touch. He turned you around before you could even register what had happened, and his lips where on yours. You melted instantly at the contact but quickly pulled away.

"Don't. Don't you dare kiss me if you're not going to come back." Your voice shook as the tears threatened to spill. He kissed you again, passion over flowing before slowly pulling away to look you straight in the eyes.

"I'll be coming back, there's no need to fret."

After he spoke you two had found yourselves hastily removing clothing before rustling around in the mess of blankets and pillows. Trying to initiate every stimulus of pleasure on your most sensitive areas.

The soft music encouraged you as it's notes harmonized with the moans and the beat went along with each stroke that was made. To say the least it was magical, only the pale glow of the moon guided you, showing every important detail whilst the rest lay cast in shadows. The glistening of sweat on your foreheads, the heaving of heavy chests hard at work, the loving eyes all captured by the moon. A snap shot forever locked in your heads and the moon.

As you stood wrapped in a blanket staring out at the moon and the dark sky, a questioned burned in your head. You turned your head slightly as to look the love of your life as he pulled his trousers back on. You looked back out the window before speaking.

"When do you leave?" You wanted to know, you had to.

"Tomorrow evening." He informed you wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your bare shoulder, "But I plan to spend every last second I have, with you." His hot breath cascaded across your collarbone and a chill ran across your skin.

"I'll miss you more than words can say." You whispered to him. You both stayed in the position, hearing the hum of a plane go over head.

Neither of them knew what to think as the roof to their left was broken. The object continued on before there was a loud explosion, the tower that many thought was vacant and had been for years, came collapsing to the earth. The calculations had been done wrong, the bombs were dropped too soon; and two young bodies were the proof of it. It was fast, they didn't linger their souls had been spared the pain, they didn't even have the time to think or utter a word before their lives were brought to an abrupt end.

They didn't know they would die that night, they didn't know their bodies would lay amongst the rubble of the tower were they had stood moments before their deaths, were their story together began. Though they died satisfied, in the grasp of the person they loved, in 1942.

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rebelliouslala · 4 years

Text

Crossing Love

A Post Apocalyptic Romance kind of a psychological thriller

(yuta x reader, jungwoo x reader, trauma is mentioned, violence, language, suggestive themes; overall angst but sprinkles of fluff, 11.6k words)

Folie à deux- A rare paranoia or delusion that is shared between close friends or family members, which often consist of hallucinations

enjoy!

You wake up slowly, to the stir and song of morning birds. No one knew if they were real. And you weren’t willing to take it on. “Good morning; ladies.” The woman’s voice is calm, yet monotone. This voice is only heard once a year, and you already knew what today was. “Good morning.” You groan, and so do the others. “Please go to your closets and change, you have 20 minutes, and then it will be time for the Crossing.” You eye the others as they get up, and so do you, hearing other languages recite the good morning, moving towards the small metal handle behind it. Opening it with a turn, sending chills down your body from the cold air hitting your skin. An outfit is folded on a chair, a pretty and flowing knee length black skirt, white shirt, underclothes your size hidden underneath the cloth. No metal, as always. You put it on, and once that is done, you sit on the now empty chair, looking at the mirror still. You allow the machines to up-do your hair, a nice and perfect French twist. You stand up and take a deep breath, but you can feel yourself shudder. It’s almost time.

No one knew exactly how this all started. The diseases wiped everyone out, is what you were taught. It could have been the fires though. The floods, caused by rumbling earthquakes. The abortions, and the laws holding everyone back. The wars ignited by madness. But it’s simple. Life was depleting. Soon it was only one country that could hold everyone, and still more refugees are flooding in. Here, in the Haven, you and a couple of hundred million women were safe. Compared to the actual number of refugees living in Haven, versus those that were in the same process as you were, you’re lucky if you make it this far. You didn’t know about the men. You weren’t allowed to because the Haven works simply. Only people who are younger than 40 can live in the System. When you are 10, around the time you get your period, you’re gifted red earrings. If not, you live freely with the others, in Liberation Town. If you had irregular periods or a non heterosexual preference, then you too. That is where those who cannot possess children live, freely as the name. Your best friend was sent there, because she was infertile. Often you get letters, saying she met a boy, and how it’s so much better than the System. That’s the nickname for what you live in, and it sort of was a system. You couldn’t remember the long name for it, but despite that, it’s no surprise, it‘s hell.

You’re knocked out of your thoughts as your friend hugs you, whispering, “Can you believe it?” Her dark skin, her natural beauty, you knew for a fact she would be chosen for the Crossing. “No,” you murmur, as she toys with your hair, “Come on Y/N, lighten up! We’ve been dreaming of this day!”

“I have, but it’s been 23 rejections, I don’t know.”

“I heard a rumor,” says another girl, her hair split into two long braids, “There’s a rare twin thing in the Boy’s System. They are crossing over nine girls.” Your friend tightens her grip on you as she smiles, “Can you believe it? You might have a chance.” Might, what a strong word.

The flood of white dressed girls, sparkling rubies in their ears in waves walk down towards the wall. The wall that separates the Systems, the Girl’s, and the Boy’s. As the wall split off, there laid the thriving and bubbling city of Liberation Town. The citizens of that wonderful town are in the high seats, cheering on family members, sisters, brothers, cousins, to be chosen. To be free in the town with them.

“Single file ladies. Single file, gents.”

You look at your side and see the men, white shirts, and black pants. The boys- or men for that matter, pass through the entrance of a 20 foot wall, covered and overgrown with vines; with age. You smile gently. Usually it’s your friends that spot it, but today you do. The System must’ve glitched, because hidden between thousands of black pants and matching shoes, was some sort of tight, shiny pair of black pants, colorful flannel pants, a pair of jeans and another boy wearing white shoes. “They didn’t,” your friend murmurs, giggling, “When will they fix that glitch?”

“This is the first time in four years,” you recall your 19th year, where the boys were late to the Crossing, because of a dress malfunction. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 93rd Crossing!” The Liberationists cheer, and you take a deep breath, deciding fuck it. You have less than 20 years in the system, might as well impress them. You stand up straighter, although you can’t compare to your friend’s height, as two women and two men, dressed in lab coats stand on the stage. “Good morning Haven, we have an important announcement before we select. 20 people in total this year will be chosen for the Crossing. It is a time of emergency.” There are quiet murmurs, except in the Systems. “As always, when we call your name, you will be paired with the opposite gender. But first, the men.” This is where the side conversation grew louder, before a male scientist clears his throat, “We will explain after, but will the brothers, Lee Taeyong, Mark and Donghyuck, please go on stage?” You see one of the boys with the glitched shoes walk to the stage, his brother following. They’re triplets. No wonder. They will pass on their unique genes so more people are born. Seven more men are called on stage. They stand next to them, seemingly to know each other and whisper to each other quietly. “These are the triplets, one of the few here in Haven that are all fertile.” Some people look at them, surprisingly, they all are muscular and undoubtedly attractive, their own gaze sending chills down your spine. Sometimes you wonder what the chefs served the men, versus what they served you. “Will the ladies, Katherine, Emma, Sylvia. . .”

You cross your fingers behind your back, before you hear your name. You’re chosen. The feeling of guilt, all years of regret is lifted off your shoulders. You’re going to be free from the System. Freedom to Liberation Town. Once everyone, including yourself, goes on the stage, you gulp. The men are intimidatingly tall, and their skin is a pretty tan, especially who you assume as the youngest of the triplets. So flawless, you divert your own eyes down as you stand next to them. “Katherine, you are paired with Taeil, and assigned to the house S-39. You may leave.” Awkwardly, the man with red hair takes Katherine’s arm. You try to count down from your peripheral vision, guessing who you would be paired with. You could fall in love with the man you’re paired with. But the boy with flannel pants whispers, and you hear his voice. It sounds so soft, so gentle. You wouldn’t be upset if you were paired with him. “Yuta, you are paired with Y/N, and assigned to H-55.” You look at the man with the glitched jeans, and he gives you a sweet and wide smile. The scientists whisper, but you are just thankful. This man is tall, lean and his smile brightened up not only the cloudy day of the Systems, but your life. With him, you’re free. Your own heart flutters as you walk to him, hearing your best friend, Clara yell at you.

“GO Y/N!“ She screams. Your cheeks heat up as you hold Yuta’s arm, passing by the flannel pants, before you feel his hand press against yours. You widen your eyes, but continue walking, taking what is given to you. If anyone saw that, you could’ve been questioned, sent away to be one of those women in lab coats. But nothing seems out of order. Because right now, the entrance to Liberation Town is what matters most. You’re smiling wide, the feeling of freedom and a house away with the Systems. That is what clouds and helps you smile wider than any other day in your life. All you needed to do was get pregnant. You hear Yuta whisper in your ear, his voice just as sweet as you imagined your dream Crossing, “Wow. . .” You smile at his accent, the hot breath against your ear, this affectionate touch making you shiver in happiness, “You’re beautiful~,” His accent echoes in your head, and you easily start to fall. This is it, happiness that you deserve. The only thing you can murmur out is a thank you, making him lean only closer. You can feel his lips, feel them smile at the curve of your ear and make you shiver as your stomach churns. His breath echoes in your ear, “Shall we do it tonight then?”

The streets are cleaner than you imagined, with people not wearing white or black skirts. Girls wear pants. Some boys are wearing short tops, which would’ve never been allowed in the Systems. Liberation Town is itself a new city, although it housed few millions, the noise and the streets are crowded. You felt a part of society, of a group. Like the namesake, you feel free. You have no alarm, no schedule to work out, you just need to get pregnant. You felt at ease as people smile at you, whispering, “It’s a Ruby girl,”

“A black skirt.”

“She’s a Crossing, new?”

“Probably, look at the eyes.”

“She’s so lucky.”

“Thank Haven.”

The nicknames never bothered you, so you breathe in the air, the smells and mixtures of everything, bread, meat, flowers, the fabric, sauces of international foods, a soft plastic smell as you pass by a salon. The salon is small, a nice home like feeling that you’re almost compelled to go in, but you have so much more time to look around. But you can come back later. You bend down to inspect the fresh fruit a woman sells. “Hey no—!” She widens her eyes at you, and looks at your earrings. “O-Oh, I’m sorry. Take some!”

“I have no way to pay.” You say. “Take it. You will get pregnant soon, and you need the food.”

“Oh. . .Thank you,” You turn, feeling a man behind you, and you realize you haven't yet read the paper. It’s not Yuta behind you; To say the least, you’re relieved.

*Earlier*

“Oh, b-but!” You lied, turning to him, holding his hand. “I-In the Girl’s System. . .w-we uh- we’re taught to serve our men.” Your smile faltered until he spoke gently. “Y/N,” Yuta’s hand moved from your cheek, to your shoulder, and he sighed, pushing his hair back. You gulped, “I-It’s fine, I mean, it’s bound to happen, I just, want time.” You slowly smiled and leaned up, “Besides, I don’t even know if I’ll be going on my period yet. We have to do it correctly, right?” To be truthful, you know you wanted to, do whatever you must. But that suddenly seemed sudden. The fact that Yuta had even asked made your throat tighten, made you feel uneasy. Yuta chuckled and leaned down now, getting closer, as he whispered, “Yes darling, we can do it when you get back home. We can talk, I would love to get to know you more. After all, what if it’s our children that save the world?” His smirk made you clear your throat and he leaned down, kissing your cheek softly. “Did you know you're so cute whenever you’re flustered, darling? I’ll see you home, but can you get home before dark?” He said gently, some worry sewn in his voice. “Of course.” You answered, kissing his jawline gently. It felt a little weird, a little wrong but you had to be at least somewhat comfortable. Or show you are.

“My name is Kim Jungwoo. :p I think you are really pretty. . .meet me in the market if you think I’m cute too :) hehe We can talk, maybe even know more about each other? If not, I hope you have a nice time in Liberation with your Crossing.”

Kim Jungwoo is surprisingly tall, with dark but fluffy brown hair. He smiles wide, his eyes a pretty chocolate brown, wearing the mismatched flannel pants. He had given you the note. He clears his throat. “Hi.”

“Hello,” you say gently. “What’s your name?” He crunches on an apple, as you chew on a peach, smiling. This one was extremely bitter. But you convince yourself that it is manufactured, and that is why it had tasted so odd. “I’m Y/N, you’re Jungwoo?”

“How could you tell?” He teases, his nose scrunching up, before he clears his throat. “Who were you paired up with?”

“Some girl, Maia.”

“Ah,” you finish your peach quickly, wiping the juices on the back of your hand before you realize. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be messy—,” Jungwoo laughs, and eats his apple as fast as you, little bits of apple on his cheek. You lean over and wipe it off, laughing softly, “How cute. . .” You smile, not noticing the blush Jungwoo has on his cheeks as he looks down. “So, do you like Yuta?” You shrug, and you remember his lips on your cheek, which heat up at the thought. “Y-Yeah, I mean, I’m a little hesitant. I’ve always wanted this; to be chosen, but I’m scared.” Taking a deep breath, you whisper, “I don’t know how to feel.” Jungwoo shrugs. “I think we all need time. I mean, that’s what my friend said. Taeil says he’s going to wait a week, take her on dates and then ask her, politely.” He sits up and puts on a goofy smile, “That’s what I would do if you were my Crossing. Then be all like,” Jungwoo sits up, deepening his voice, “Aye~, baby~, let’s get it on~!” You both laugh, and when you snort Jungwoo laughs even louder. Your eyes closed, for a good minute you continue to laugh until your ribs hurt. By the time you both can finally catch your breath, you notice you both are holding hands.

Jungwoo sighs, his smile all over his face. “Well, it’s almost night. I promised to get Maia apples and bananas, and hey. Don’t worry. Yuta is pretty nice. I mean he always seemed to be kinda quiet. You know, I don't know how he is sexually.” You pretend to gag, giggling. You and he get some more peaches, some more fruit. “Do we take it?” You mutter to Jungwoo. “Honestly I don’t really know.” He whispers back. “You both are Crossings, huh?” The lady says, and you and he both nod. “You look cute together, I know your children will prosper. Currency looks like this,” she holds out clothing, a fabric. Some fruit. “Oh! I forgot there’s a trading system in Liberation.” You remember your studies in the Systems. Jungwoo eyes you, but he looks away without your notice. “Much better than the years before, using paper currency.”

“Yes, I’m sorry we didn’t go to our house yet to get trading items.” Jungwoo pouts. “We call ‘em Croppers. But this is your first time, so I understand. Have a nice day,”

“Thank you!” You smile, as she bags your fruit, and waves. You walk back to your neighborhood, and Jungwoo looks at you, “Did you like the System?”

“I mean. . .I’m indifferent. I feel like Haven didn’t have to do this whole fertile thing. Makes it seem weird.” You say, freely for the first time. You never could say this in the System. “I think it’s cute. I mean, I get to meet a girl instead of a boy. I can talk to you too.”

“Why did you want to talk to me, and not your Crossing?” You look up finally. Jungwoo sways the bag as he shrugs, “I’m already going to be home and getting to know her for the rest of my life. It’s good to have a friend that isn’t a guy,” He smiles gently and so do you. “Plus I have to wait for the ovulation dates to be sent out, then you know.” He sighs rather loudly, and you clear your throat. In the Girl’s System, you were taught that this is normal. This is fine. It’s for the greater good of people. As a child, before you knew about sex, about the sins of the past world, murder, disaster; you dreamt. You had dreamt for years that you and your Crossing ran. That’s the one thing you wanted. The person you will spend the rest of your life with in the river, chasing each other forever, giggling and splashing, not caring about the Haven’s responsibly they order you both. Because that didn’t matter, what mattered is that you both love each other. There’s a chance you fall for your Crossing. To get pregnant and have a happy life. But that’s only a chance.

You see your house, H-55. The H home is tall, looking like a tower. One from the “fairy tale” books that the older System women read to you. On the 5th floor you see the lights in every window. Yuta must be decorating the apartment. “Well, this is my house. I hope we can see each other more, Jungwoo.” You turn, smiling before he hugs you tightly, and you’re engulfed by the scent of sweet bread, making you hold him closer so you can smell it more. You can’t put your finger on it, but you feel yourself melt right into his arms, and you don’t want to go . “Of course, I live in D-09. Just come by.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you another time. I hope everything goes well with Maia.”

“And I hope everything goes well with Yuta.” Jungwoo strokes his imaginary beard with a Yuta impression, “Baby~,” After your and his giggle, you wave, and enter. The apartments have a spiral up staircase, at which you climb up, landing at a floor every 30 steps or so. You inhale deeply, and exhale as you make it up to the fifth floor. You should’ve remembered how much you hated climbing up stairs. Leaning on a door, you knock, looking at the fruits, and smiling. “I’m home!” You say excitedly. Now that you actually talked to a System Boy, it would be easier to get to know Yuta, you can get to know him more. Before your due date assigned by Essential.

“Finally,” Yuta’s voice sounds softer, and more seductive even, and the door unlocks and opens. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, baby.” You’re met with dark eyes, piercing into you. The feeling below your stomach, you couldn’t control as you gulped. His bottom lip is bitten by his top lip, his head turned to the side to show his sharp jawline. His face is clear, flawless. Nothing splotched. He had obviously been waiting. You can smell the roses he laid out, and the way he looks means he’s ready. He won’t let anything stop him, as his eyes travel up and down your body.

“Oh my god.” The man quickly covers his detailed stomach, the face of lust now gone as his ears turn pink. “I-I’m so sorry- I thought—,” You cover your eyes, a blush on your own cheeks. “T-This isn’t H-55, is it?”

“58. It’s 3 doors to your left.”

“Yes, I’m so sorry.” You quickly go to the door, knocking on it until Yuta opens the door, 58’s door closing. You hug him tightly, trying to get the image of him out. Sure you didn’t confirm your feelings, but you couldn't really go anywhere. Especially if Maia is with Jungwoo. “Whoa! Darling, what’s wrong?” Yuta wraps his arms around you, pouting. “I almost walked into a horny man’s room.” you grumble into his shirt. After a small moment of hesitation, you pull away. It seemed a little inappropriate; until Yuta gently pets your hair, and immediately you feel yourself freeze. You lay on his chest as the door closes behind you. You hear his heartbeat, a sort of soothing lullaby, “I’m sorry that happened, sit down. I was thinking we could talk, I would love to know everything about you.” You smile and look up, to meet his wide smile, “Uh, yeah. we can do ice breakers!”

Yuta laughs and sits down on a couch, a few boxes scattered on the ground, “Okay, we can choose furniture.” Yuta picks up the small boxes. “We see the hologram of the furniture and then we say if it stays or not.”

“Sounds like something a couple does.”

“Well, are we not?” Yuta pouts. You only smile and hold his face, “Well, by Haven yes.” He holds your hand, his hand larger. “I mean, this could help us. You’re really pretty, and if we’re assigned together we might as well try to make the best of it. What can go wrong?” You gulp. Well a lot. You could be depressed if this relationship didn’t work out. You could be anxious like this. You could lose the baby because of stress. Then it’s to the Essential District. Yuta walks over to you, and sighs. He holds your hands as you think it through, “I understand it’s weird. Honestly I’m just telling myself this to make it less weird. But,” he rubs the back of your hand, “Can’t it be worse? We can just be friends, get that. . .thing over, and we can just live with each other?” You slowly nod. That was a good idea, and you can handle being friends. Especially with a boy like this. Yuta smiles. “Besides, maybe once I kiss you we can see if we do have feelings.” You push him off, rolling your eyes. As much as you wanted to take things slow, you kind of did like his jokes.

The window from your apartment displays the night sky like a painting. Dotted with white stars, the moon looks large, closer to the Earth than from your little hole in the wall in the System. For the past couple of hours you and Yuta decided on how to make the apartment, he took the living room, and you took the bedroom. His favorite color, you learn, is yellow. He decorates the wall as just that, dropping a tech oil to stain the living room walls. The walls make it calming, as he makes the green couches go near the walls, humming to himself. “Can we get a dog?” He suddenly begs, as you push furniture in the bedroom, since he claimed the living room to sleep in. You took that answer with relief, especially since your agreement. At least he understood consent. “What?” You say quietly. You knew what they were, thanking quietly to the veteran women in the System who taught you animals and fairy tales- how to daydream even. “I’ve always wanted one,” Yuta gushes. “When my family and I came here from Osaka, we had one. Then we moved here during the Dobutsu Storm, and I was separated . . .” His voice trails off, his voice growing darker with memory. You look up, moving your stray hairs back and frowning. Was that why he’s so excited to be chosen? “What happened to your parents?”

“I don’t know. All I know was that I was taken in by Sicheng, he was born in Haven.” You walk over, and he can see you’re dressed in just sweatpants, and a loose shirt which hides his waist until you wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry that happened; tomorrow we can try to ask where they are.”

“Yeah.” Yuta says gently, freezing for a moment before embracing you. “My friend works in Essential, so we can find them. I promise.” Yuta smiles at you, and he leans down, giving a soft kiss against your head. You felt your heart pound faster. Was it weird? No, it’s simply just affection, something you haven’t felt in your entire life. You hold him closer and lay your head near his shoulder, closing your eyes. Sure, you weren’t sure, your own gut was twisting as you were this close, but you inhaled his scent. A calming, green tea smell overtakes your nose. For some reason, you recognize it instantly. It’s a specialty, and you always loved that ice cream. You smile gently. You both stay in the hug, letting silent exhales at different times. After what feels like a comforting hour, you finally say it. “I like the living room.”

“Thank you. Does that mean I can get the dog?”

“Yes. I’ve wanted one, and a cat.”

“No. Dog.” He pouts. You laugh at his look. The small sting of regret of what you felt for him earlier jabs at you, but you let it pass. “Okay okay, but we need Croppers.” He lets out a confused noise, making you giggle and only prove that you were wrong about him. You pull your head out of the hook of his shoulder. “They’re trading items.”

“Oh! Cool! Can we keep the green tea mochi?”

“AH HA! I knew I smelled that,” you point at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, of course I ate one.” You chuckle as you move to the bed, having already put away your new standard clothes, you grab a huge shirt and some shorts, letting down your hair and revealing its natural state. Yuta follows you, stretching and he sits on the bed as you enter the restroom. You change quickly before going out, realizing how skewed this whole setup is, and how love should’ve been made easier. At least in these terms. Yuta chuckles, “You look cute in my shirt.” You widen your eyes, realizing how your legs are exposed from the shorts and you try to explain, “S-Sorry, I thought it was supposed to be oversized, like those old fashion trends—,” He takes your chin gently, as you’re shaking your head, worried. “Shh. It’s fine darling. Good night, okay?” He leans in, pecking your forehead again, and this time you gulp. Not out of fear. Nothing like that really. Because this time you like it, and you knew you wanted more. Was this desire?

He barely steps a toe out of the threshold before you clear your throat. “Hey. . .let’s sleep together.” You suggest. You only read from hidden and tucked away romance novels in your System bunk, how to seduce. Close your eyes, a hint that you want them. That you need them. Maybe this wasn’t bad, after all, it’s just experimenting. You did have a duty with him. Yuta looks at your body, since your body is exposed, only in your underwear and bra.

“I-I. . .” He rubs the back of his neck, his face red. “I’m not ready, I think we should do it another time, but I’m,” you pause. Were you ready? You look at him again, “We can just kiss,” Yuta slowly walks to the bed, crawling on top of you. He grabs your thigh, tightly you can feel. Your breaths mix together as he hovers over you, whispering, “Are you sure you want this, darling?” You nod, and immediately he takes charge by kissing you. It’s rough; Nothing how he was when he was begging for the puppy. You can feel everything as he pulls away only to devour your lips again. Everything that you had missed in the system. The touch of Yuta, his hand on your thigh, pinching and stimulating you. The way his hand traced your body, a rough and calloused hand, you shiver, holding him closer.

For the first time, you felt something you never felt with anyone; hunger. The way he had touched you, you wanted him more than anything, more than air. His groans, curses under his breath and his wet kisses are the only sounds you fall asleep to, holding him close to your neck.

You wake up the next morning, half nude, your bra on the floor, and Yuta holding your hips. His lips are still on your neck. You giggle at the sensation, gently leaning down, and kissing his lips, holding his hand under the covers. You feel his breath on your lips, but he kisses back, a smile on his face, “Oh,” His voice is deeper than before, and you shiver even more. You assumed out of lust. “Hi darling,” you whisper. “Mm~, only I call you that~,” he stretches before putting his arms around you even tighter. “But it’s so fun.”

“I know darling.” He opens an eye and pecks your lips. He gets up, going to the restroom, as you sit up, getting his shirt back on, and you smile. It smells just like green tea. You look around, and quickly get on some clothes, yawning. From the dresser you pick out a huge flannel shirt, a sort of cartoon shirt, and some soft but tight pants. Yuta comes out, and he smiles. “You’re wearing my shirt, again.”

“What?!” You look down before Yuta holds your cheek. “It’s cute.” You blush as Yuta laughs, “So, shall we go to Essential district?”

“Yeah, I would love to meet your parents.”

“Can we get the dog too then?” his eyes brighten, and his smile is wide, almost like how it was when he was paired up with you. You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, “Yes, we can get the dog too,”

“Yes~!” Squishing his cheeks and pecking them. After getting ready, your hair is a mess from last night’s kissing session, you tidy it up into a high ponytail, smiling at Yuta’s outfit today. He wears a white shirt and a blue sort of rough blue jacket. You had to remember the word, jean. It’s something you once read in a magazine. He wears pants with the same material as the jacket, but it’s black. His hair is covering his forehead, and he looks adorable; that you lean up and kiss his forehead. “You look like one of those models in a magazine.” You compliment. “Oh. . .thank you.” His cheeks turn red as he grabs your arm, and you hold the Croppers close to your body, his hand on your waist. You open the door, taking your key, before you’re met in front of a man. This time he has a shirt, and innocence on his face. “Hi! S-Sorry. . .I shouldn’t have. . .scared you like that.”

“Taeyong?” Yuta asks. The man’s smile suddenly brightens the room as he gasps, “Yuta! You’re paired with her! Oh, I’m really sorry I did that yesterday.”

“This is the horny man you were talking about, Y/N? I mean you’re not lying,” teases Yuta as he kisses your hair, a sudden grip on you. “Well, I still apologize, so take this.” Taeyong gives you an apple, and a note. You quickly tuck away the note. You don’t really know why, but you were curious, and you couldn’t crush Yuta’s heart. You look at him as he waves, “Hope everything is well, glad I could - uh, meet my neighbors.” Taeyong goes back to his room, and you and Yuta walk downstairs. You both decide on what sort of breed, deciding on a large but fluffy Cockapoo. After a quick game of rock paper and scissors, you win to name the dog. “That's not fair!” He argues, holding the door for you, finally together you walk outside, met with a bright but cloudy day. The sun is hidden, but you and he both walk close, keeping each other warm. “The chances are equal, so I won fair and square, Yuta~,” you kiss his cheek, walking down the street. Some people whisper, the early morning buyers not believing their own eyes. Crossers at this hour? Shouldn’t they be home, doing their duty? Some nod and smile at you, a little girl even gasping at your earrings. Yuta asks for directions as you are distracted by some jewelry, leaning down to inspect a pretty green jewel before the apple and note falls out of your pocket. You turn, hoping Yuta doesn’t see before you take out the note.

“Hi Y/N! It’s Jungwoo again. . .I forgot one of my bros, Taeyong lives in the same building as you! I was hoping maybe tomorrow, or anytime you have time at least we can get some drinks? We can complain about our Crossing partners. There’s this amazing drink in Liberation I found on my way back home.

<3 Jungwoo :)”

You pout over the sweet message, hearing your own heartbeat. He’s so cute writing that, but you look around. How you wish you contact him that you’re busy, before you turn. “Yuta hyung!” a voice suddenly raises in pitch, obviously excited as he hugs his old buddy. “Oh, hey Jungwoo, what are you doing here? Oh, how’s Maia?”

“She’s very sweet, we uh,” You stand back up, walking over. “Jungwoo! Hi!” Jungwoo’s face lights up, and his voice raises again, making you giggle as he hugs you. “Y/N! Ah, you look cute, that shirt must be Yuta’s right?” You nod, as Yuta wraps his arm around you, kissing your head, “Yeah, she’s been stealing my clothes.”

“I think they would just look cuter on me.” You tease Yuta, laughing. “What are you doing here, Jungwoo?” repeats Yuta with a frown. “I wanted to surprise Maia with a gift, but I don’t know what. She’s sleeping still, but she wanted to decorate the house too so I’m just going to walk around. Can I hang with you guys?” Jungwoo says hopefully. You smile wide. He looks cute today, with a soft pink knit sweater and light brown pants. His pretty brown hair covers his eyes, however not hiding how bright and interested they are. “What do you think, darling?” Yuta’s voice takes you out of the soft Jungwoo fantasy. What were you thinking? You have Yuta. You like Yuta. You have to like Yuta. But, you had to admit Jungwoo today looks like a boyfriend, and you gulp as your stomach churns in a sort of jealousy for Maia.. “Yeah, let’s go get some drinks before we start.”

“Shut up!” Hisses Yuta as you and Jungwoo laugh, drinking what the others call boba. You chew on the balls, smiling at how the flavor of strawberry explodes in your mouth. “Y/N I’m telling you, Yuta is seriously perverted. In the system he would spend hours in the restroom reading magazines about women.”

“Shut up~!” Yuta starts to whine, clinging onto you tightly like a baby as you hold his arm, laughing so hard you’re about to fall off the chair. “So that’s how you’re such an expert on kissing~,” you laugh and kiss Yuta’s cheek. Jungwoo clears his throat and takes another sip, “So, you guys are going to Essential?”

“My friend, Clara, works there. She’s super cool, she’s the one that cheered me.”

“Was she a Crosser?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she can help us find Yuta’s family.”

“Oh, you came to Haven?”

“When I was 11 or so. They checked to see if I was fertile, and I was put in the Systems, away from my family.” Yuta says, his tongue drying at the last word, and his grip on you softens, before tightening at Jungwoo’s next words. “Hyung, you never said anything,” Jungwoo hugs Yuta, laying his head on his shoulder. “It’s okay, let’s go, okay?” You nod. “What about the dogs?” Yuta and you look at each other as Jungwoo holds your hand suddenly under the table. You widen your eyes as Jungwoo speaks calmly, “I was thinking that Y/N and I can go to the animal pound, and we can meet you there. You might want to be alone, especially since you know, this is your parents; Yuta, you don’t want to be distracted.” He pauses, and Jungwoo rubs the back of your hand. Shouldn’t you argue? Fight and stay with Yuta? You can’t. Jungwoo’s eyes are looking at Yuta so sweetly that you let him persuade Yuta. “That’s. . .not a bad idea. Are you okay with getting the dog with him?” You nod, kissing Yuta’s cheek. “I promise. We can meet back home, before dark?”

“Sounds great, darling.” He kisses you, and you hold his cheek, letting him kiss. He pulls away, satisfied, “See you.” Yuta gets up, hugging Jungwoo goodbye as he takes some Croppers, leaving. You wave goodbye, sighing to yourself before you feel tight, but loving arms around your hips, a hum coming out of his lips, “Finally.” You turn and smile, “Hi Jungwoo.” He leans down, a sneaky smile on his face, and kisses your cheek, “We’re alone~,”

You read about a back alley kiss. A boy pinning the girl to the wall, biting the girl’s lip, touching her body. Exciting her, tasting her, enjoying each other’s bodies.

This is exactly what happened between you and Jungwoo. He bit your bottom lip, his body close to yours, holding your waist with one hand. You can’t help but push yours closer, almost grinding on him. Soft moans escape at the way he grabs your ass, making you wonder. Why didn’t you feel this with Yuta? Here you felt more stimulated, with even more desire. You don’t know what made you so crazy about Jungwoo. Maybe it’s the way he pushes his tongue in your mouth. How he teases you by being so soft, so gentle, letting his finger run over your area, making you moan in his mouth. It could be because you felt a bulge near your stomach, making the feeling below your stomach go crazy. You want more, and this hunger wasn’t like with Yuta. What a strange feeling, yet you wanted even more than that. He was gentle but gave such deep and almost suckling like kisses on your neck. You groan, closing your eyes as you savor the taste from him just moments ago. “Jungwoo,” you softly moan his name, holding his hair close to your neck. “I knew you would like it better with me than with him,” Jungwoo grumbles, and you gasp as you’re lifted and still pinned against the wall, your area near his own.

“Jungwoo—!” Your sense of reality snaps back. This isn’t normal. You can’t do this. You have a duty with Yuta. You quickly shake your head, and immediately Jungwoo places you down. “I-I’m sorry,” You shake your head, “No. I-It’s fine. Can we go get our dog now?” You say quickly. You watch the twinkle in Jungwoo’s eyes fade and he nods, “Of course. I just. . .I must’ve read your signs differently.”

How he was wrong. How you’ve loved if he was your Crossing. How he could be the one to be yours forever. If you could have a child with him. But the Essential scientists would probably make you a psychologist. To choose between two men? The choice is obvious. You gulp, and try to hide your voice cracking as you both walk.

Jungwoo*POV

“So, when is your birthday?”

“T-Today.” I murmur, eyeing Y/N. Her face is pink, and I know she regrets it.

If only I can tell her. I want to tell her that I want her. That Maia doesn’t actually care. That she yells at me, just saying she wanted one of triplets. I’m not masculine enough. Not even her type. I want you, Y/N. I want your smile next to me when I wake up. I want your body to hug when I feel down. I want you to give kisses to our child.

I. . .I love you Y/N.

“Oh my god! And you didn’t tell me!” She says, as I shrug, looking at my shoes, walking out the alley like nothing happened. “It’s your and Yuta’s day, I-I shouldn’t have involved myself.” She holds my arm, and I smile a little from her grip as she shrugs. “I think I'll get you a dog.”

“What? Y/N— No. No way are you doing that. I’m fine. That kiss with you was my birthday gift; thank you Y/N.”

Her cheeks immediately redden, heating up, like a hot air balloon, but she doesn’t respond. Did I say something wrong? I bite my own tongue. It was a bad idea to even involve myself, besides, I have no chance with her. I open the door to the pound however, and her eyes light up, like the stars. I want to kiss her head. I want to be the one that could be her Crosser, to love her and cherish her. I want to take her away and keep her to myself. My eyes travel to her shirt and I can feel the smile on my lips. It’s a little cartoon dog, one I used to read in the System. Snoopy. “What dog breed are you getting again?”

“Cockapoo, why?”

“I like that breed,” I point to the one that looks like Snoopy. I think it’s a beagle, but I don’t want to embarrass myself. Y/N looks down at her shirt and gasps, “Oh, like this one, right?”

I nod, giving a soft smile. She walks down the aisles, and I just follow, “So, uh, what did you like to do for fun?”

“Where?” I ask, cooing at the small fluffy cloud dogs. I squat down, gently letting them sniff my hand. “The Systems. I don’t know what happens there, at least for the Boy’s. I remember getting a message from the Wall before, that someone had seen me and thought I was pretty.” I gulp, continuing to play with the dog. I don’t know if I should tell her, especially since I remember I made that hole in the wall. I was so desperate to see the Girl’s System, but all I heard was giggles and a voice. And I saw you, Y/N. You were reading a book, lying on your stomach, during what had to be System School. I made that letter when I was 9 years old. You were my first crush, who I dreamed to be with. You still are.

“I read,” I lie, trying not to look at her, standing up and rolling on my feet, coughing quietly as I stand back up. She widens her eyes, looking down. She must be realizing how tall I really am. How cute. A few Essential scientists pass, probably in charge and I clear my throat, “Excuse me,” The man turns and he frowns, “Yes?” He responds in a harsh tone. I brush it off and smile, “Do you know where we can find a Cockapoo breed? It’s for my—,”

“Are you both Crossers?” I widened my eyes. It would be bad to lie, to say yes. Although I want it. I want to be with her so bad. The feeling of a small, but loving touch wraps around my arm.

“Yes. We live in S-45.”

Your*POV

“Do you have any Croppers?” The Essential asks. You feel Jungwoo’s shaky breath. “Yeah, we’re willing to pay anything, right sweetie?” You say in a loving voice. The worst thing was, you meant every word. You rub his hand. Fuck it. You were sure they wouldn't check. Plus your friend knew that wasn’t him. But she would protect you. She always has. “The price is metal parts, Clara, will you—?”

“Yes sir.” Your friend brushes past you, giving a quiet nod, You dig into your bag, only pulling out some odd metal bits here and there. “Is this alright?”

“It’ll be half Cockapoo and half Yorkie.” Jungwoo quietly makes a cute noise and you smile, “Deal.” The Essential takes the Croppers, studying them before Clara brings back a small puppy, their eyes staring around. Their fur is black, except for the soft brown features on their face. Their eyes are a dark but warm brown, like their fur. They look at you in hope almost. “Would you like to know the personality?” Jungwoo carefully takes the puppy, his eyes bright and overjoyed. “Uh, sure?” You respond, letting the puppy sniff your hand, before it whimpers and closes their eyes. “She’s a few days old, and shy. Her parents are very sweet. I think she has a fear of mirrors.”

“Does she have a name?”

“No,” You smile and Jungwoo gently places the puppy in your arms, as the puppy hides in your shirt. You smile, “Thank you.” You both walk out the steel refined building, and you hum at the small puppy sneezing. “Bless you baby,” you smile, cooing. “Oh~, Jungwoo she’s so—!” Jungwoo suddenly pulls his hand away and clears his throat, as Yuta comes back, panting. “Y/N! Oh my god!” He squeals and goes to the puppy before stopping himself. “H-Hi puppy~,” Yuta leans down and kisses her head. “I haven’t named her yet, but;”

“I should go,” Jungwoo clears his throat. He back hugs you. “No, Jungwoo—, uh.” Yuta pulls away and looks at you, his eyes filled with innocence. “Y/N, is okay if you can go home alone?”

“What?” You say, confused. “Please?” Yuta holds your hands, they’re tight, with almost a need. Nodding with a quiet sigh, Yuta kisses you. But it hits you. Jungwoo’s hands on your body. Yuta’s. What were you going to do? You leave in a hurry, holding the puppy like a child. Your thoughts consume you. What was going on? It didn’t take Yuta long to go to Essential, did something go wrong? What if something bad happened to his parents? Your puppy whimpers and you hold her close. “Come on baby,” you coo, smiling. “You’re fine.” But who exactly were you telling that to?

After an hour of stress shopping, you arrive home, you leave the puppy on the ground. She moves around, letting out barks before sniffing the rug, she lays down, as exhausted as you are from being carried around. You take out your new Croppers, her dog bowl, some more fruits and meats, and her dog food. You decided to name the puppy, “Coco,” not knowing any better name. Coco falls asleep to the sound of you filling her bowl. And you collapse on the couch. Liberation was far more vibrant than you imagined, and far more expensive. It’s almost like the same system to the cities long ago, but you sit up, waiting. But waiting for who? You try to get up and hum, dancing the thoughts out of your mind. Forget Jungwoo, forget Yuta. You have a duty though. Give birth to a healthy child. Shouldn’t be that hard. Do the fun stuff. Eat well. Take hormone medication. Give painless birth. You smile at Coco kicking in her sleep, and you make yourself a snack. The only meal you had was with Yuta and Jungwoo earlier. Sighing at the memory after Jungwoo you go to the Haven Radio, a new contraption you bought to keep yourself at bay. Immediately what screeched out of the old junk is a song, one that you immediately knew. Once your friends sang it to cheer you up after you dropped your favorite book in some pudding. You sing loudly, not caring about anyone else, besides, you know the walls are soundproof. You dance, making sure not to disturb any neighbors as you laugh when you mess up a lyric, but continuing on. The moment won’t last, soon you will have to choose one. Choose one for the rest of your life. One to love, to cherish.

It’s almost like getting married. You take a bite of the peach and then the apple. Definitely apples, and not the peach. The peach tasted odd, and didn’t have that sweet taste you wanted. The apple is crunchy, fun and fills you up with memory. The door opens, and you turn around, hoping whoever enters doesn’t see your shenanigans.

“Hey, we need to talk Y/N.” Taeyong waves. “Hi, is it okay if I come inside?” You sigh quietly. Thank God it wasn’t him.

“Maia did what?!” You exclaim. Taeyong shushes you as he groans. His face is a bright pink, something you can’t help but smile over as he frowns. “A lot of girls have been coming to me, saying their Crosser is infertile. . .including Maia.” He looks at you and gulps. You shake your head, not even believing his question that hasn’t left his lips. “If you need help. Or see if anything that won’t work, I. . .I’m right down the hall.” Taeyong waves awkwardly, his eyes traveling down your body before he closes the door. He was rather cool with this process. Like he can do it all day. Unlike you, 24 and virginity to the max. Just had your first kiss with Yuta. Is this rumor even true? That the System was wrong and most of the boys were actually sterile? The duty lifts off your shoulders, but the remorse gets the best of you. Did Yuta find this out about Essential? You bite on your nails, starting to worry even more. You didn’t even know what to do. Being out of a System, no organization. Just one job. Get pregnant. Why was this harder than it has to be?

You go to bed. That’s one thing you can do well. Sleep. Sleep it away until you forget everything. You climb into bed, quickly changing. Your head doesn’t even hit the pillow as you hear a whimper. Your eyes are still closed, but you grab Coco’s body carefully, and place her on the bed. “Shh, hi Coco.” Coco sniffs you, before laying next to you. You smile, closing your eyes before any tears pour out. Why would you see Jungwoo in the first place? Why was Yuta acting weird? Why did you want him instead of Yuta? The thoughts swirl in your mind, each one coming back harder like a tsunami, and you hold Coco close, even as she licks you, it couldn’t heal you. You fall asleep, letting the thoughts of Jungwoo’s smiles and Yuta’s nickname for you echo in your ear as darkness consumes you. Waking up, you see Yuta at the edge of a bed, his arms moving slowly and gingerly. His eyes are focused, but yours aren’t yet. He looks like he’s carving something, until you sit up, rubbing your eyes before you yawn. His eyes almost look dilated. His lip twitches, but he hums a sort of lullaby. You finally focus on his arms petting Coco, who tries to move to you, instead. His other hand writes something down, on a piece of paper. “Yuta?” You say sleepily, before clearing your throat.

“You’re not wearing my clothes.” He left you to go home alone, and this was his answer? You sit up, opening your arms and Coco runs straight there, letting you hold her close. “What happened? With your parents and everything?” Yuta smiles at you solemnly, and he puts his paper and writing on a bed stand, on his side. Taking off his shoes, he lays next to you, his face nears yours. You lay back down and your nose is touching his, before he places his forehead on yours, kissing you in between each word, making that altogether gut feeling obvious. “My dad died, a few days after I was put in the system. They suspected him as the dad of the triplets. They operated on him, and had my mom watch.” You hold his face, pausing, not wanting your hesitation obvious, you pepper his face with your lips, before hovering over his own lips. “I’m so sorry.” Yuta’s eyes are shiny, his lips trembling, but it felt weird, leaving a taste on your tongue like the peach. “Darling. . .that won't work.” You sigh, and stroke his cheek. You felt such hopelessness, that all the regret you had felt earlier that night was gone. You only wanted to see that smile on his face again. “Haven is a horrible place. I don’t even know my parents. I am a product of Crossers. You have your mom, is she alright?” You hold him close. “Yes, she’s planning to move to Liberation soon, since her work as an Essential is almost done.” You hug him, pushing back the thought of doubt. He’s here, and you wouldn’t leave him for a second. He needed you, and you needed him for your own freedom. If this was your way, so be it. “Y/N, stop hanging out with Jungwoo. Including Taeyong. They’re the reason why my dad is dead.” You try not to show the surprised expression on your face as a loud boom goes through the apartment. “Everyone in the H building, please exit. The Children Neighborhoods are being evacuated. There is a birth defect virus.” You widen your eyes and Yuta helps you up, as you hold Coco close. You and he get your shoes on, before walking downstairs. Taeyong, his Crosser, Trinity, pass by you, wearing lounge clothes. About a million people, including small children and women with huge bellies look around, their Crosser hugging them. There is worry in the air, but there is more worry for you. You weren’t pregnant yet. Could it affect those who aren’t?

“Yuta, did you find—?” He's gone. You look around, frowning. How did you lose him? You call his name, holding Coco closer. Where did he even go? “Y/N!” Your friend, Clara hugs you. “Clara, what's going on?”

“Y/N, do you know Nakamoto Bunta?”

“Is that. . .Yuta’s dad?” You ask hesitantly, still trying to look around her, confused by the sudden rush of panic crashing upon everyone. “Yes, he’s still alive. I heard that he was your Crosser. You’re being moved.”

“Moved?!” You cry. “But why? Yuta is fine—!” Before you can continue with the lie, Clara stops you. “Y/N!” She cries, and she bites her lip in worry. “We have cameras, and we saw what happened in Essential, near the pound.” Your chest feels heavy, and breathing seems almost impossible, from the crowd, your own fear. Only Clara is focused. Everything else is blurry, and you can barely feel, even hear the words that you speak. “What happened?”

“Yuta attacked Jungwoo. He’s attacking all of the triplets. We tried to avoid him going into the System because they have Folie à deux. They’re delusional, and when he went to see his mom, it brought it back.”

“W-What? What is that?”

“It’s a shared delusion among family members and even couples. We have to make sure you’re okay, so we’re taking you to Essential.”

“Clara, he wouldn’t—!” You try to argue when you hear a scream. You turn back, but Clara grabs you and pushes you through the crowd. She doesn’t block your view as you see Yuta’s hair, and Taeyong’s body clashing into the ground. Yuta’s face is full of rage, his eyes dilated, his mouth open in frustration as even more Essential scientists try to push Yuta back. The hope of Yuta fades. You knew that face. He looks the same as he did only 20 minutes ago, on the bed beside you. He wanted revenge. He could’ve hurt you. You look away, ignoring his deep roar as he tries to fight off the other men pulling him off.

*Earlier*

The walk to Essential was short.

And Yuta hated short. The thought of you kept repeating in his mind. He didn’t fully trust Jungwoo. Honestly in the System, he never felt like he truly belonged, especially with the triplets and their friends. It always reminded him of the storm. Yuta shakes out the memory. The feeling of gray, his screams. Yuta instead opens the door, and walks in, being met with an official, a sort of business-like lobby. “Hello, welcome to the Essential district. Are you new?” The front desk man smiles, a suit on. “No, I’m actually a Crosser.”

“Name and home?”

“Nakamoto Yuta, H-55.” Yuta looks at the computer the man types on, fascinated by the hologram. The man nods but he widens his eyes as a red screen appears. “Uh—,”

“I want to see my parents. Please?” Yuta asks. The man looks at the hologram. It’s not possible. The Nakamotos family was supposed to be out of the system. Out of Haven even, they’re locked up. “A Crosser. . .?” The man mutters in amazement. He can only pray for the other Crosser he is paired with. The front desk man presses a hidden button for the guards as he smiles wide and bright, “Down the hall, then to the stairs and you can talk to the guard, Mr. Nakamoto. I hope you find your parents well.” Yuta smiles wide, “That sounds great.” Before he can do anything however, the guards apprehend Yuta, handcuffing him.

However, Yuta didn’t mind. “This is for your protection.”

“I understand.” He responds, calmly. Monotone. The front desk whispers to the guard. “It’s a Nakamoto. The family suffers from Folie à deux. The mother has been using that to him, and his sisters, who died. It was too dangerous for him to be with her. His dad is studying her right now.”

“Is this one dangerous as well?”

“Not that I know of.”

“How long until the big guards arrive?”

“16 minutes.”

“I’ll try to make it as long as I can.” Yuta looks down the hallway. He hates how he knows the floor of the steel walls. The iron cages he passes by. He felt something he hasn’t felt in years. Anger. Why was this place so. . .familiar? He felt the walls almost crush him, so he looked down. And why was that guard following him? Yuta turns with a glare. He tried to go as fast as he could but the guard often slowed down, or tried to keep up the pace. The feeling like he was being taken to his grave was too strong to ignore. “Yuta~?” He stops at the sound of his name. He knows that voice. As much as he knew the anthem of Haven.

Yuta runs for the source, met with the pale face of his mother. His mother looks so old; she’s deteriorating. He gently whispers the old name he used to call her, looking around. “What’s going on?” Yuta asks. “Sir, stand back.” The guard touches him. Like an instinct, Yuta hits him, regardless of the handcuffs. The guard knocks out and falls to the ground. “Yuta! Where have you been?”

The memories are back.

“Mom!” Yuta turns around to see his younger self, guards pulling him away from his mom. The hallway looks like a hologram. “Yuta please, go in! You’ll be fine, I promise! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”

“Mrs. Nakamoto, please let go of your son!”

“Where’s my husband?”

“He’s fine, he’s doing his work,”

“YOU BASTARDS ARE LYING! YOU KILLED HIM!”

“No, he’s being tested to be in the System.”

“DON’T LIE! YUTA, THE TRIPLETS! THEY’RE LYING! YOU’RE HIS SON AND DON’T EVER FORGET YOU’RE A NAKAMOTO!”

“Ma’am please go back to your cell—,”

“THEY KILLED YOUR FATHER YUTA!”

Yuta’s eyes are tear filled. He remembers the day so clearly. The day he was separated from his mom and his dad. The day he learned his dad was dead. The triplets lied. They said that it was his dad. He’s a Nakamoto. And the triplets will pay.

“Son, darling, you’re bleeding.” Yuta looks at his hands. He had clenched his fists so hard he began to bleed. “I don’t feel that Mother. What did they do to you?”

“They tortured me, son.” His mother sobs. Yuta doesn’t even notice the straightjacket she’s wearing. “The Essential scientists?” Yuta asks hopelessly. “Yes.”

“They keep saying one of them is your father. I won’t believe it. You have to find the triplets. They know the answers.”

“You sure Mom?” Asks Yuta. He tries to go through the bars, and hold his mother. “I’m sure. Go, quickly. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m so happy you’re alive, son.”

“I’m happy too. I love you Mom.”

“I love you too.”

*Later*

“So, what’s up?” Yuta and Jungwoo look down at their shoes as they walk back to the alley they’re in, how Jungwoo hopes Liberation has no cameras. No evidence of what only happened what felt like minutes ago. The image of you in their minds as Yuta breathes out, “I found my mom. She works at Essential, and I was so happy. . .” Yuta’s voice cracks quietly. Jungwoo hugs him immediately, and Yuta holds him close. “I don’t understand, then why—?”

“Jungwoo, can you promise not to tell Y/N something?” There’s a pause, that Yuta does not even notice as Jungwoo forces a smile, “Of course. Anything.”

Jungwoo thought he saw Yuta’s wide smile, but that was before he felt his body smashed against the stone floor, and his breath hitched in his own throat. “WHY DID HE LIE?!”

“W-what?!” Jungwoo tries to get up, but Yuta slams his hand down on Jungwoo's throat. “IT WAS YOU AND THOSE BASTARDS THAT SENT MY FATHER TO THE GRAVE! HE DIED TRYING TO PROVE HE WAS MY FATHER!”

“What- what. . .the fuck—. . .are you talking about?” Jungwoo tries to speak through, as his breathing slows, and he starts to only see Yuta’s dark, black hole like eyes. “DON’T LIE! I KNOW YOUR TRICKS!” Yuta spits back, his eyes wide as he clenches his throat with both hands now. “Please. . .” His eyes roll back, and Jungwoo quickly kicks Yuta in the groin. Yuta hisses and grabs his area, groaning in agony as Jungwoo gets up, coughing for air before sprinting off. He had to get to you. He had to get you safe before Yuta came back. That was, before Jungwoo is knocked out with a rock.

*Present*

You look at the Essential building, widening your eyes at how large you imagined it. Sure you studied about it, many many times, even doing structures on it in the System out of LEGO blocks. “Y/N,” You turn around and you’re in the hospital bed. Coco isn’t in your arms, but instead on the floor. “You’re comfortable with this? Just because I have to do this, doesn’t mean I’ll do it without your consent.” Clara speaks gently. You nod, looking back up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Thanks Claire.” Clara gently puts the technology over your eyes, whispering, “Good luck.”

“Y/N!” Yuta smiles at you. His smile was as wide as before. His eyes match his dripping honey-sweet smile, making you wonder, what happened? You smile back and when you try to walk to him, you’re in chains. “Hey—! Hey. . .Yuta?”

“This is for the Crossing!” He says. “Darling—,” you say, your eyes starting to get wet as you whimper, “Please, don’t—,”

“Don’t what, darling? Don’t hurt you? I can do whatever the fuck I want. Now,” He leans in, and you whimper. This simulation was too hard, too real. He looked just like he was beside you in bed. You didn’t want Yuta like this. “Baby. . .Please. . .” You say, your voice wet with despair. “Who killed my dad? Was it Kim Jungwoo? That motherfucker— Lee Taeyong?!” Yuta’s eyes are in your face, how dark they were, Swallowing you whole, and his voice echoes in your ears. He only demanded, only pierced into you. His eyes are dilated just like your own, but out of fear. Your gut was escalating the feeling you always felt with Yuta. It wasn’t desire.

It was fear.

You realize it’s not yourself you have to protect. Not from him.

“NO ONE DID!” You yell, pushing at the chains. “YOU’RE CRAZY, YUTA! HE’S FINE! PLEASE, LISTEN TO ME!”

“Y/N.” His voice echoes.

You gasp and look around. Clara isn’t there. No Yuta. No parents. No one.

But there’s a sneeze.

You turn and Jungwoo wipes his nose, kissing Coco’s head. “Jungwoo,” you look at the gauze wrapped around his head. He looks up, and he smiles, before getting up. “Y/N!” It was his voice you heard. And you knew, it wasn’t just you. But it’s fate. “I’m—, I’m sorry. I was trying to protect you.” You hug him instead, shaking your own head. “Jungwoo, I. . .I know it was you.” You whisper. “What?” He asks, his heart thumping in your ear, and you tilt your head to the side to listen. “I ate an apple. It was sweet.”

“What are. . .?”

“Shh I’m trying to make this moment sweet.” You grumble. “Not as sweet as me,” he teases and picks you up, and you smile at the memory in the alleyway. “When I first met you I had a peach. Back then, it felt bitter. Because we didn’t have anything yet. But recently, I had one. It was sweet.” You put your nose on his, letting it mush against his while his smile grows wider. “I, I like you Jungwoo. But I didn’t want us to be thrown to Essential, so I kept it hidden. But now, I can tell you. Especially since my Crossing went mad.”

“He almost killed me Y/N.” Jungwoo pouts. You try to hide your laughter but you hold Jungwoo close, like you’re a koala bear as you kiss on his gauze. He sighs in happiness, “Ah~, feels better already Y/N.”

“My turn,” Jungwoo smiles as he leans over, kissing you. That was a whole conversation. His tongue slowly met your mouth, and you both let each other hold each other close. You pull him even closer, letting your bodies move in sync as his hand moves towards—

“Y/N!” You drop to the ground, making Coco yelp out of fright. “I-Uh, hi Clara.” You try to smile as Jungwoo smiles back, his hand still on your ass. You smack it away, making him only smile wider. “. . .I was just about to announce how you and Jungwoo are paired up to be Crossers but I guess I don’t need to, do I?”

“Nope. I think we got it.”

“Thanks Clara,” Jungwoo smiles. “Don’t thank me. Thank Maia for trying to cheat on you and getting those STDs.” Clara rolls her eyes, looking at her hologram tablet. “Is Taeyong okay?”

“Yes, but he and his Crosser aren’t. I’m going to leave but uh, lock the door next time.” Clara leaves, and you and Jungwoo turn to each other. “So, are you free tonight?” He smiles, trying to bite his lip. You laugh, kissing his chin. “Yes. Weirdo.”

That night you couldn’t even try to do anything sexy. You and he were up all night giggling about memories in the System. “Please tell me that you knew another language.”

“I knew two, but everyone told me not to speak it.”

“Same!”

You ignored the Haven Radio about the Nakamoto Yuta trial. “Sweetheart~!” You whined from the cupboard. Your entire chest was stuck inside, and you couldn’t grab onto anything. “Please help me.” Jungwoo looks over and laughs, kicking your ass before running away to the next room. “KIM JUNGWOO IF YOU DON’T HELP ME I SWEAR TO GOD YOU WON’T GET ANY APPLE PIE!”

“Fine you’re no funny Y/N.” Jungwoo says in a cute but quiet tone as he helps you out. “Thank you Jungwoo~.” You hum, and kiss him. “That’s all I get for getting your clumsy ass out?” He pouts, before grabbing your waist. “No, I don’t think we’ll do that.” His hand travels from your waist to your ass and he firmly grips it. You widen your eyes at the sudden gesture. His eyes are dark. His cute sense is gone as he pushes his hair back with one hand and stares at you. His eyes are sprinkled with desire. Just like the first time; in the alley.

“I think I’m ready. But only if you’re ready though.” He whispers in your ear. The past month has been giggles and laughter, pecks and kisses between you two, with Jungwoo leaving notes, cute love letters around the home, even hiding them in your books. But now you finally had to realize. And choose. Is this what you wanted?

“Sweetheart,” you whisper back with a large smile, “I’ve been ready.”

#post apocalyptic #nct jungwoo #nct yuta #yuta angst #jungwoo fluff #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct angst #dee writes

22 notes · View notes

shadowdianne · 6 years

Note

I WANT SQ 22 AND I WANT IT YESTERDAY

two miserable people meeting at a wedding au

Well,it’s not yesterday but… xd

Thankyou for the prompt as always

(A03 Version)

“Isthis seat taken?”

Reginaglanced up from the wine glass she had been nursing, blinking as the brightlylit stage behind the woman who had addressed her hurt her eyes. The table whereshe was seating at was completely empty except for her and she raised bothbrows at the blonde who, with a glass of her own on her right hand, was lookingat her, tiredness around her eyes but a soft, easy smile on her lips.

Shehad seen the woman before during the ceremony, mostly alone and barely talkingto anyone but, as she took on her height, she had seemed smaller before; notreally wanting to be there. Which, she guessed, was something she could totallyunderstand.

“Don’twant to dance?” She asked, a mirthless smile curving her lips. Behind thewoman, almost everyone was already dancing, the tables they had been dinning atcompletely forgotten with the exception of a few couples here and there and, ofcourse, Regina herself.

Andthe blonde woman who, after casting a glance to the stage at her back, merelyshrugged and put the glass down in front of Regina’s with a soft thud.

“Notreally.” She mumbled, ironing invisible lines on a dress that, despite lookinggood on her, didn’t quite seem like her style with the way she stoo;, uncomfortableangle on her shoulders all too telling. “But if you want to be alone…”

“Sit.”

Reginawas tired, and she had been thinking on how longer she would need to staybefore she was allowed to go according to social standards. The woman in frontof her, however, didn’t deserve her sullen state.

Sittingat the chair that had been occupied by that Locksley man up until the dessertsa while ago, the blonde picked up her glass again and gave a sip to it. Thelipstick she had worn was already beginning to disappear and her green eyesshone with no make up to enhance them; glittering on the slight darkened cornerthey were in.

“I’mEmma.” She said as she put the glass back on the table, hands quickly pickingone of the scrunched napkins that littered it. “Emma Swan.”

Thename didn’t ring to Regina, but she nodded at it before muttering her own name;not really knowing what to expect. The blonde remained silent after that for afew long minutes, twiddling the stem of the tall glass with one hand as shekept on playing with the napkin, doing her best to not stare at the stage whereboth Mary Margaret and David had started another solo dance that made Reginawant to vomit.

“I’msorry if I interrupted you.” Regina looked at Emma, at the slight smile thatstill was on her lips. Slightly cheeky, the blonde’s eyes were still gentleand, perhaps because of that or the alcohol she had on her system, Reginamerely shrugged and shook her head.

“Youdidn’t, I was just thinking on how long I would need to wait before being ableto go.”

Chuckling,Emma rose her glass and clinked against Regina’s.

“That’sa thought I can get behind.” She muttered, taking another sip and urging Reginato do the same with a raise of her brows.

Sighing,the brunette took a sip of the wine, not really liking the lukewarm feeling itleft on her mouth. Falling silent, the blonde returned to its napkin origami,folding and unfolding it while trying not to glance to the stage.

Shehad a gorgeous profile, Regina found herself thinking, glancing at her. Anintrusive thought she blocked as soon as she realized she had had it. Shecouldn’t be thinking like this after all.

Hermusings were cut short by Emma’s voice yet again. Pointing at both groom andbride, the blonde tilted her head.

“Whichone?”

Itwas an enough cryptic question that Regina found herself confused at it for amoment before realizing what Emma was asking. Tongue pressed against the roofof her mouth the brunette weighed if the blonde hadn’t truly recognized hername a few minutes ago. Maybe not, her mind provided. As much of a complicatedguest she was, she doubted Mary Margaret got around and explained to so manypeople that the brunette currently hiding on the shadows of the unlit side ofthe room that was now filled with people trying to dance had been herstepmother at some point.

“Iwas married to her father.”

Thewords left her mouth before she could actually try to think on another kind oftale and she cursed herself and the wine for it as she glanced at Emma, waitingfor her to do the mental math almost everyone tended to make the moment theyheard that.

Instead,Emma hummed in recognizement once and glanced back at Mary Margaret whoseblushed face was completely turned towards David. Looking like the perfectcouple, Regina glanced away from them; not wanting to see any more than she hadalready been subjected to see.

“Thefirst time I heard the story I told Mary Margaret that her father was anasshole.”

Blinkingand focusing on Emma once again, Regina felt her lips part, completelyspeechless. That was a train of thought she rarely got to see. Almost everyonejudged her; thinking of her as someone who, at barely twenty-one at the moment,had decided to take all the White’s fortune for herself. Some, perhaps, judgedher mother; her iron fist and cruel ways known to almost everyone who was highenough society-related. But very very few saw Leopold White as the monster shehad met.

“Shewasn’t very happy about it.” Emma finished her glass and drummed her nailsagainst the table, the tune not reaching Regina’s ears as the music, suddenly, greweven louder around them. Rolling her eyes, Emma moved closer to her and raisedher own voice. “But I still think he was an asshole.”

“Andyou?” Regina refused to acknowledge the warmth feeling Emma’s words brought toit. As strange as the blonde’s reaction maybe she wasn’t still sure if she wasworking with an agenda she still wasn’t able to see. Cora’s teaching was morecomplicated to shake than a divorce after all.

Emmachortled at that, glancing at Regina’s glass before looking away. Silently, thebrunette offered her the glass; she wasn’t intending to finish it after all.Giving her a grateful nod, the blonde took it and swirled it once before takinga sip. Luckily for them and their ears, the music seemed to get lower at that point,so Emma’s next words weren’t screamed.

“I’mthe friend who got arrested while thinking she could trust a guy she had met afew months ago and gave birth to her son while on prison.”

Reginacould hear the bitterness on Emma’s words. She hadn’t listened the story,however, and for that she blinked. The blonde’s surname hadn’t ringed any bellsthe first time the woman had told her who she was. Perhaps, she added inwardly,that was why.

Pinchingthe bridge of her nose, Emma kept on talking, voice soft.

“Theythought that attending a wedding would cheer me up. For some reason I can’treally understand. But you know Mary Margaret; she doesn’t take a ‘no’ for ananswer.”

Reginafound herself nodding at that. She knew the shorter woman after all. Barely afew years younger than her and naïve to the point of stupidity sometimes, shewould prod and ask and turn you mad until you complied. That had been howRegina had found herself roped into all of this after all.

“Howis your kid?” She managed to ask; the question blurting out of her.

“Idon’t know.” Emma replied after some tense seconds. “I gave him up for adoptionas soon as…” She stuttered and fell silent for a couple of seconds beforegroaning and finishing Regina’s glass on one single gulp. “I’m sorry. I knowthat talking with the dumb woman about how she was stupid beyond measure is notprecisely the highlight of the night.”

“Itwas that or trying to deflect another horrible attempt of Robin Locksley to getme to dance with him.” Regina replied, trying her best to replicate the smarmysmirk the man had been giving her all night.

Laughinga little brokenly, Emma rubbed her eyes and turned back at her fully, smileback on place.

“Heis…”

“Andasshole.” Regina finished, repeating Emma’s previous statement. Feeling atease, she crossed one leg up the other, feeling a brief rush as she saw howEmma’s eyes followed the movement before going up to hers. “Do you like cider?”She asked, suddenly feeling daring. “I know of a place close to here. Theyserve the best apple cider you will ever taste.”

Emmablinked and looked at her back for a second, looking at the still dancinggroup. Nodding, she chuckled and stood.

“PerhapsI ask for something stronger but yes, why not?”

Sheoffered her hand to Regina and the brunette took it without a second thought.Perhaps going there hadn’t been a total mistake after all.

“Comeon, I’ll lead the way.”

#swan queen #SwanQueen #delirious-comfort #prompt

32 notes · View notes

notbang · 6 years

Note

43. undone

Congratulations, you’ve won this cracktastic AU to 3.09.

Rebecca Bunch has unhinged him.

Poked, prodded, reshaped, redefined and then ultimately unraveled and undone him—it’s the only explanation for his idiotic, unprofessional and decidedly dangerously-skirting-the-lines-of-illegal behaviour. Rebecca Bunch dumped him and he’s losing his goddamn mind.

It’s the only explanation Nathaniel can come up with for how he finds himself in the back of an Uber in the early hours of Saturday morning, drunkenly making out with the office administrative assistant on their way back to her apartment.

He’s well on his way to seeing double by the time he bumps into her at the bar, so it takes him a second. There’s something naggingly familiar about the mousy girl that slides into the seat next to him, struggling to get a leg up on the slightly too-high stool, her phone gripped tightly in one hand.

Nathaniel does a double-take, then groans.

“Ugh, what are you doing here? And don’t you wear glasses?”

He gestures with a splayed palm at her face, and Maya’s hand goes instinctively up to her nose then stops when she realises there’s nothing there. She has to comically raise her minuscule voice for him to hear her above the music.

“I’m trying out contacts. And binge drinking. My self-esteem is currently at an uncharacteristic low and I caved to peer pressure and crushing societal expectations regarding beauty standards and how girls should just wanna have fun. Do you eat comfort carbs now?”

He looks down at the bowl of fries in front of him and then back up at her face. If he squints a little it’s definitely the same girl that leaves her weird arm-shaped backscratcher lying around the office in a questionable show of hygiene but if he doesn’t then she doesn’t and that almost, concerningly, works for him.

Maya looks down at her phone for a moment then huffs, shoving it aggressively into her purse.

In an unexpected twist she kisses him first, taking him by surprise so that all he can do is stare at her for a moment, her eyes impossibly close as she presses her mouth firmly against his. She makes to pull back when she realises he isn’t reciprocating but then he shuts off his brain and stumbles into her, hands grabbing blindly at whatever they can find.

He’s just a guy who’s been dumped, after all. He can’t be held responsible for his actions.

Maya is as impossibly tiny as he is tall, and the absurdity of the height difference doesn’t make it easy on either of them. He guesses she knows what he’s thinking as he trails his eyes over the surfaces of her apartment, calculating.

“My housemate has a swing,” she offers helpfully. “Clips right over the door.”

He’d be lying if he said his curiosity wasn’t piqued but he’s not sure either of them is currently coordinated enough to pull that off, and the bed is still looking like the easiest option. He steers them in what he hopes is the appropriate direction, helping her shed his shirt along the way. She’s less efficient in dealing with her dress and the confusing arrangement of undergarments beneath it, so he sits down on the end of her comforter and waits. She disappears into her walk-in robe.

“So even though this is just a one-night stand, I want you to know this bedroom is a safe space, and I don’t kink shame.”

She re-emerges wearing a pair of black Minnie Mouse ears, the pink sequinned bow fastened between them flopping down over her flushed forehead. She pushes it up in lieu of her glasses.

“It’s the best I could do on short notice. So anyway, what’s your fursona?”

He opens his mouth but no words come out because has no idea what the hell she’s talking about but he doesn’t get a chance to answer anyway because she’s on him again, launching herself into his lap with more energy than he thinks he’s ever seen her exhibit. He lets himself lean back into the mattress—she seems surprisingly happy to drive whatever the hell it is they’re doing and he figures her on top is probably the best way for them to go about this, anyway—and pats absently at his side pockets for his wallet, trying to remember if he still has a condom on hand.

Maya draws back suddenly, breathless.

“What are your feelings on three-ways? Would you participate in an MMF or no? As a loud and proud bisexual woman I definitely enjoy the MFF dynamic and feel like the alternative could be a bit much to deal with but I try to keep an open mind.”

He scrunches his face up and twists his head back on the pillows, heaving a heavy sigh.

“I don’t…” He shakes his head. “Do you always talk this much?”

“My friends tell me I’m a rambling drunk, which is why I normally stick to Shirley Temples. Sorry. Sometimes I lack boundaries and alcohol destroys the very delicate filter that holds back some of my more progressive thoughts. It’s okay, though—like I said, my apartment is a judgement free zone, so feel free to unload about whatever.”

“You need to take those off,” he says, jerking his chin up at the ears. “You barely look twelve on a good day so this is hard enough for me as it is. How old are you, anyway? You know what—never mind. As long as you’re above the age of consent, I don’t want to know.”

She slides off him, knees curling into her side.

“We ran into each other in a bar, remember?” she says, wringing the mouse ears in her hands. Then, “I think I’m having a quarter-life crisis.”

Something about the despondent look on her face reminds him briefly but agonisingly of Rebecca and he groans, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. He can’t deal with this right now.

There’s a chirrup from the nightstand and she reaches across him, narrowly avoiding elbowing him in the nose. After a minute Maya looks up from where her fist is clenching around her phone, jaw set defiantly.

“Have you ever tried cocaine?”

Nathaniel can’t get through to his guy so they settle for her bottle of peach schnapps instead, drinking out of coffee mugs, cross-legged on her living room carpet.

“You’re not missing out on much,” he assures her. “It was probably a bad idea anyway. We can not and say we did. Just tell your friends it was underwhelming. First times usually are.”

Maya downs the rest of her drink and rises to her feet. She’s pulled on his chambray shirt and she’s swimming in it, the soft blue-grey swamping her insignificant frame.

“So,” she says with renewed confidence. “Enough talking. Enough drinking. Let’s Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone this thing. Hashtag Crazy Stupid Love. Hashtag you raise me up. Hashtag the lion and the mouse. Hashtag… I’m all out of hashtags but let’s do it. Let’s go.”

“I don’t know if you know this,” Nathaniel says wryly, gazing up at her from the floor, “but you’re literally speaking another language right now.”

“You’ve never seen Crazy Stupid Love?” When he continues to stare at her blankly she tries again. “How about its seminal precursor, Dirty Dancing?”

“Ohh,” he says, pointing at her as understanding dawns on him. He pulls himself to his feet. “You want me to do the whole lift thing, right? Chicks dig that for some reason. Yeah, okay. What do you weigh, like ninety pounds? I could bench press you in my sleep. Let’s do it.”

She gauges the appropriate run-up and he catches her by the waist and hoists her over his head, surprising himself with the smoothness with which he manages to carry off the manoeuvre despite his inebriated state.

Maya lets out a tiny squeak, her small frame tensing in his hands.

He tries to peer up at her and stumbles backwards slightly, earning himself another yelp. Her eyes are scrunched tightly shut.

“Okay up there?”

“Perfect,” she insists, the high-pitch of her voice suggesting otherwise.

She doesn’t seem sure what to do with her legs and he readjusts his grip as she squirms, shifting the delicate illusion of balance he’s barely able to maintain. He realises she’s veering dangerously close to the overhead lamp and sidesteps out of its path.

“So now what?”

“Now you put me down. Only sexy.” The words come out garbled, in a tense and nervous rush. “It’s a tried and true romcom staple.”

He’s not sure he nails the brief but he manages to fumble her back to her feet without dropping her, setting her in front of him, only slightly unsteady.

“Was that seductive? Are you feeling seduced?” she asks, tugging on the hem of his shirt where it’s ridden up over her thighs.

“Sure,” he says, noncommittal. “Consider me seduced.”

When she shoves him back on the bed and crawls over him and he can’t get it up it’s absolutely only because Maya talks too much and he’s drunk too much and nothing to do with the fact that once he started earlier he now can’t stop thinking about Rebecca and the stubborn sting of her rejection, the fog of the alcohol no longer doing any good at keeping that particular hollow ache at bay.

He grits his teeth and ignores the pricking sensation in his already bloodshot eyes. This has already been an embarrassing enough hit to his ego. He’s not going to cry as well.

Maya falls asleep halfway through administering the world’s most ineffectual hand-job and Nathaniel slips quietly from the bed, oddly relieved.

He passes out on her couch and when he wakes in the morning it’s to Maya looming over him in a fluffy robe—impressive, given her stature—her arms crossed haughtily over her chest.

She’s wearing her glasses again, and it’s oddly comforting despite the circumstances.

“There’s a bunch of rolled up bills on my coffee table. Did we do cocaine in my living room last night?”

“No,” Nathaniel says, waving his hand dismissively and trying to ignore the pounding in his temples as he sits up. “I mean, we thought about it. You wanted to practice rolling twenties just in case. But that’s as far as we got. Drank a lot of schnapps, though.”

She tugs her robe tighter around her with one hand, holding up his dress shirt in the other.

“Did we…?”

“Also no,” he supplies flatly. “Not for lack of trying, but it was probably for the best.”

She gingerly hands him back his shirt and he takes it, avoiding her eyes as he slides it over his shoulders and diffidently does up the buttons.

He realises he never asked her what exactly she had going on that had sent her off on her own personal spiral in the first place. He’s satisfied he didn’t, and still doesn’t want to.

He clears his throat.

“So if we could just never talk about this whole thing ever—and I do mean ever—again, that would be great.”

He pats her awkwardly on the head as he leaves.

#this is where my asshole brain goes when we don't specify pairings #also not a microfic #sorry not sorry #crazy ex girlfriend #nathaniel plimpton #nathaniel x maya #micro story meme #my fic #otp: hilarious height difference?#hashtag the lion and the mouse

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rivenstraws-a · 6 years

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RULES: repost, don’t reblog. just pick a muse of yours and fill it out.

MUSE: Emma Marques

— basics

▸ is your muse tall/short/average? She a toll lady.

▸ are they okay with their height? Now she is. It was a source of significant insecurity in her younger years— “Giraffe”, “Big Bird”, and “Big Blonde Amazon” were some of the kinder names she’d heard whispered in her youth. Occasionally, someone (usually a man) will become personally offended at her height, as though she intentionally set out to be emasculating. Alternatively, some people opt to fetish her height, which isn’t much of an improvement. But hey, she never gets pushed around in a crowd. Tall cabinets don’t bother her. She can walk around at night with the knowledge that those who’d wish to mess with her are likely to think twice. Being petite sounds nice, romantic, but being tall, well— it has its perks.

▸ what’s their hair like? Long and blonde, and constantly surrounded by a halo of flyaways. Emma’s hair is naturally wavy but refuses to stay smooth as so many shampoo bottles promise. With products and care, she can get it looking tidy for a few hours at most. Usually, though, it’s a messy river of deep gold— oddly fitting.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming? If she’s going with the intention of being dressed up, she’ll spend a good hour or two. On a typical day to day basis, though, she has a roughly 30-minute grooming routine that includes both hair and make-up for the day. 15 minutes if she’s in a hurry.

▸ does your muse care about their appearance? She does. There’s a lot of value that’s been placed on her looks by those around her, however unintentional that may be. It was something that growing up, people always used to console her with— “I wouldn’t mind being tall if I looked like you.”, “You’re gorgeous, someone’s bound to hire you.”, “You’re too pretty to be treated that way.”, “Don’t worry; people always stop to help beautiful women.” Due to this, there’s definitely a subconscious belief that her appearance is necessary to remain valuable. The wrinkles around her mouth and eyes are tiny little stressors reminding her that her fall back of being “beautiful” is on a time limit. It’s odd knowing that one of your main valued traits is slowly fading away.

▸ does your muse care about what others think about them? Is the glass half full or half empty? If you asked Emma, she’d say it would depend on if you were pouring it or drinking it. Same can be said about whether she cares about others opinions. Naturally, she cares very much. She would like for her family to be proud of her. It’s not a great feeling knowing that they aren’t; but at 32, she knows that at a certain point letting go of that desire is necessary to not be in a constant state of misery. So ultimately, yes, depending on the person, she cares— to an extent.

— preferences

▸ indoors or outdoors? outdoors. She spends at least an hour outside a day, even if the weathers poor. ▸ rain or sunshine? sun. She loves to just soak it up. ▸ forest or beach? beach ▸ precious metals or gems? Both? Both. ▸ flowers or perfumes? flowers. Wildflowers are her favorite. ▸ personality or appearance? Ultimately personality, but Emma herself will admit that she’s not exactly blind. She still takes appearance into account. ▸ being alone or being in a crowd? In a crowd, or with someone in general. ▸ order or anarchy? ...anarchy. With just enough order to prevent dying. ▸ painful truths or white lies? painful truths ▸ science or magic? Magical Science! ▸ peace or conflict? peace with the occasional danger of conflict ▸ night or day? day ▸ dusk or dawn? dusk ▸ warmth or cold? warmth ▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? few close friends ▸ reading or playing a game? reading

— questionnaire

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? Impulsive decision making/reckless behavior. It’s caused her to lose out on a lot of good things in her life.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? In death, Emma has lost her Mémé (Grandmother on her Fathers side), who she was fairly close to. She died at home with Emma and her parents next to her. Emma was newly 17 at the time, and partially wishes she’d elected not to be in the room when Mémé passed, as watching/feeling her die was more scarring than comforting. Socially, she has lost her best friend from Elementary-High School. They parted ways after Emma’s actions resulted in her friend's abusive boyfriend being arrested. Her friend chose to go back to him and cut ties with Emma. Ever since then, Emma has not had any close female friends. Socially she also lost Micheal, her once-fiance, due to her own infidelity a month before their wedding. She still has her unworn wedding dress, avoids movies that involve cheating as the main plot, and no longer wears rings as an accessory. Her relationship with mother was also negatively altered from that moment on and has never recovered.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? A rainy day with skipped school and McDonald's; it was the first time she’d been intimate with Ashton (or anyone for that matter) and one of the few moments that she felt in the right place at the right time. Her first date with Micheal that turned into a week-long road trip with just the two of them. The first (and only) anime convention she ever attended with her little brother, Andy. Watching his face light up as he won 3rd place in a costume contest she helped with. Matthew, her other little brother, at his wedding; drunk and goofy and happier than she’d ever seen him. Making crepes at 4 am with her Mémé and her Mother. Going to the movies with her Papa whenever she was “too sick” for school. Waking up for the first time with Puppy Chester nuzzled atop her chest. Quitting her job, breaking her lease, and driving away to a new state all in one day, and the absolutely addicting sensation of freedom that filled her lungs with each mile she marked. She has a lot of fond memories.

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? Not in the slightest. Emma has never killed anyone, save for a few fish and one deer that ran out in front of her car. She felt awful and tried to get them to a Vet. $300.00 and a bloody backseat later, the deer did not live.

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down? Emma doesn’t cry very often. She’s not sure why. Her father always encouraged both her and her brothers to cry if they felt like it, and her mother never necessarily told her not to, but she’s grown to avoid it. When she does cry, it comes out like a flood, blotching her entire face for hours. It’s often loud, so she usually hides her face in a pillow or aggressively grinds her teeth to hide it. Ironically, Emma (who usually can’t stop the words for tumbling out of her mouth), can barely muster up anything to say when she’s broken down, crying or not.

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? No. She’ll say she does. She doesn’t.

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? When Emma loves, it is with the entirety of her being. It is with her voice, her hands, her mouth, her eyes; each individual movement and sound and touch. If someone is loved by her, she will sell everything she owns to jump on a plane and be beside them when they need her. She is both selfless in her willingness to sacrifice for them and selfish in her desire to keep them even after she’s forfeited the option. She is simultaneously in her most indestructible and vulnerable state. There have only been two instances in which she’s fallen in love, and in her experience, the feeling never really goes away.

TAGGED BY: @watsonofagun (This was fun and I wrote entirely too much, so thank you!!)

TAGGING: @trashpanda-rp , @mimbletcnia , @strxnzo , @plsdontkinkshameme , @longmayshereign-cersei, @rostamic, @krupnick , @inionnaforaoise , @hiistiger , @ya’ll

#ᴵ ᵗʳᶦᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶦᶰᵏ ᶦˢ ˢᵐᵘᵈᵍᵉᵈ (Emma's Character)#|| Emma's Character ||#((It's funny how some of Emma and John's answers matched well and others were total opposites HAHAHA))#((I miss them. I'll have to do a reply for them soon!))

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unfolded73 · 7 years

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What Comes Next (5/8)

Summary: They lived happily ever after. And then what happened? (A Post-S6 story.) Starts about a week after the final battle, and explores the highs and lows of newly married life between Emma and Killian as they deal with work, friends, and family as life in Storybrooke settles down somewhat.

Captain Swan, Explicit (this update particularly so), ~4600 words this chapter

Thanks to @j-philly-b for the beta.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4

Emma stirred sugar into her coffee mug as she stared out the kitchen window. For the first time possibly ever (not counting those early days of their relationship when she’d set her alarm extra early to try to sneak out of Killian’s room at Granny’s without half the town seeing her), Emma had woken up before her husband. She could hear the shower running upstairs, while here she was already dressed and ready for work. Up was down, black was white, and Emma Swan was ready for work early. Something had woken her up at five in the morning and she’d just lain there, awake, until finally giving in and getting out of bed.

Sighing, she turned around to see yesterday’s mail neatly stacked on the kitchen table where Killian left it for her the day before. Walking over, she idly flipped through the pile. There was a water bill, a notice that she was pre-approved for a credit card, a postcard coupon for 20% off at the Three Bears Day Spa, a Hammacher Schlemmer catalog (and she wondered what kind of dark magic they’d used to track her to Storybrooke), and a letter from the Dr. Naito’s office. She pulled that one out, setting down her coffee to open the envelope. Her eyes scanned the brief letter, and she mentally added ‘call the doctor’ to her increasingly long list of things to do.

By the time Killian came downstairs, she was on her second cup of coffee and had managed to make some toast.

“I hardly knew what to do this morning, you waking before me,” he said with a kiss on her cheek. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just woke up at five and my body decided it was done sleeping.”

Killian poured coffee into his favorite mug. “You should have woken me,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“I wasn’t really in the mood for that, or I would have.”

He sat down beside her at the table. The letter from her doctor was lying in front of him, and his eyes skimmed over the text. “What’s a pelvic exam?” he asked her.

Emma snorted. “Surely you can guess.” He just looked at her expectantly. “Dr. Naito’s my gynecologist, which means she’s a doctor for my lady parts.”

“I’m glad to hear Dr. Whale doesn’t take care of that,” he said.

“Yeah, tell me about it. She delivered Ashley’s daughter, so I met her not long after I moved here. Anyway, a pelvic exam is an annual checkup that women get.”

“What sort of checkup?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I promise it’s not sexy to describe.”

“I wasn’t implying that it was, love, I’m just curious.” He got up and went over to the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting it down next to the stovetop.

“Okay, well, you get undressed and have to wear a stupid paper gown. Then you put your feet up in these metal stirrups so that the doctor can get a good look at your vagina.”

“I don’t have one of those,” Killian commented, smirking, as he cracked eggs into a bowl.

“And that’s why you don’t need a gynecologist, babe,” Emma mumbled around a mouthful of toast. “So there’s a few things she’ll do, but the main thing is a Pap smear.”

“What’s that?”

Emma made a face. “I suck at trying to explain stuff like this. It’s where they take a sample of cells from your cervix and test them for, like, cancer.”

“Cancer?”

“Yeah, cancer is—”

“I know what cancer is, Swan, I’m just worried at the idea that you might have it.” He abandoned the eggs he’d been whisking and approached her at the table.

“There’s no reason to think I have it, Killian, it’s just a test they do on all women. It’s routine. She’ll also check my IUD, although I should have at least another year on it—”

“Do you want me to accompany you to this appointment?” he asked, his eyes still filled with concern. Perhaps it was his life in the Enchanted Forest that was coloring his reaction. Probably in his experience, by the time a doctor was summoned, things were already terribly wrong.

“Killian, I need you to chill out.” She put her hand over his. “There is really nothing for you to worry about. I’ve had plenty of these tests before, and they always come back negative. Which is good, negative is good. It means there’s nothing wrong.”

He seemed to visibly relax a bit. “If you say so. I’d still happily go with you, if you want moral support.”

“I really don’t.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not that big a deal for me, I promise. You being there would be weird.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before, love.” He returned to his scrambled egg preparation.

“Yeah, but there’s sexy contexts for my vagina and unsexy ones, and I really don’t want to mix the two.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “All right, if you’re certain.”

In spite of his acceptance of this aspect of modern life for a woman of reproductive age, as they went about their usual work that day, Killian seemed clingy. It was as if, after all the threats to her life that he had witnessed, it was just now occurring to him that he could lose her to something much more pedestrian. Throughout the day, every time they were in the same room was an opportunity for him to press his hand supportively against her back or squeeze her hand or shoot her one of his lovestruck expressions.

To be honest, it was a little bit annoying.

She loved Killian’s affectionate personality, she really did. After she spent her childhood starved for human touch, she usually revelled in how frequently he touched her, and how obvious it was that he loved her. Today though, although she would never tell him so, she was feeling smothered by it. She encouraged Killian to take off early so that at least one of them could be home when Henry got home, her ulterior motive being that she really needed some time alone.

In the quiet station, Emma took a box of push-pins out of her desk and stood at the map of Storybrooke, putting a pin into each of the locations where the recent rash of break-ins had occurred. Granny’s, Moe’s flower shop, and Jefferson’s shop were all relatively near the middle of downtown, while Ashley’s daycare was further away. She supposed that the increased vigilance of the store owners in town, coupled with Killian’s patrols, might have driven the thieves to search further afield for a target. There probably wasn’t anything to the pattern, as it was mostly driven by opportunity.

She pulled up the reports for each of the robberies, looking at the dates. They were spaced roughly seven to ten days apart, which meant they were due for another break-in soon. She really wanted to catch these people, whoever they were.

Emma had been checking around with the other Storybrooke businesses to see if anyone had made any unusual purchases with a large chunk of cash, but so far, nothing. And while it was now possible for anyone to leave Storybrooke any time they wanted, for the most part, people didn’t. The former residents of the Enchanted Forest were uncomfortable out in the land without magic, or they were still afraid that crossing the town line would have some horrible effect on them, and almost everyone behaved as if that barrier still existed. So while it was possible that the thief or thieves were spending their spoils out of town, she somehow doubted it. More likely, they were stashing the cash in a sock drawer or under a mattress, waiting for something. If she could just get a suspect, a search might be their downfall.

The main phone line for the sheriff’s station rang, making her jump. Emma picked up the receiver, and was immediately treated to the sound of a sneeze right in her ear.

“Sheriff Swan,” she said.

“Hi, Emma, it’s Sneezy.”

“I figured. What can I do for you?”

“Listen, maybe it’s nothing, but Grumpy said I should call you. When I looked out the window of the pharmacy a little while ago, I thought I saw someone looking over here from behind a tree across the street.” He paused to sneeze again. “I didn’t get a good look; I mean it was just for a second, and—” Another sneeze interrupted his tale.

“Are they still over there?” she asked, looking around for her car keys.

“No, not anymore. Like I said, maybe it was nothing, but given all the robberies…”

“Yeah. You were right to call me. What did the person look like?” Emma sat down on the edge of her desk, looking at the map again and picturing a pin in the spot where the pharmacy was.

“I didn’t get a good look.”

“Man? Woman? Short? Tall? Young? Old?”

“Man, I think. Average height. Other than that, I don’t know. I really didn’t see his face.”

She sighed. “Okay. What time do you close?”

“Six o’clock.” Emma rolled her eyes; she didn’t miss much about Boston, but she did miss stores that managed to stay open past dark.

“Okay, lock up tight and don’t leave any cash unsecured anywhere,” she told him. “Killian or I will try to keep an eye on the place tonight, in case they come back and try to break in.”

He sneezed three times in rapid succession. “Will do, Sheriff.”

Emma started to call Killian, and then stopped and looked at the time on her phone. It was almost six now, although she assumed nothing would happen before dark. She was suddenly transported back to her bail bondsperson days, when she used to sit on a stakeout in her car with nothing but a tattered sudoku book and a box of those protein bars that were really just glorified candy bars. It was often cold and always boring, but she was perversely nostalgic for it all of a sudden: a time when she could sit in her car all night and eat junk food and no one would care. No one would wonder where she was, because there was no one in her life to wonder.

She loved having people who worried about her and missed her and wanted to be at her side. It was all she had ever dreamed of as a kid. But in that moment, she felt a strange pang of longing for a time when the only person she had to answer to was herself.

Emma started to plan. If she was going to stake out the drug store, she needed a less conspicuous car than the department’s one squad car or her yellow Bug, which everyone in town knew on sight. She thought about cars she could borrow. Regina’s Mercedes and her dad’s truck were as well-known in town as her own car. Zelena’s green monstrosity would stick out like a sore thumb. She needed a boring car, the kind of car that your eyes just slid over without even seeing.

Mom’s station wagon, she thought. Perfect.

She dashed off a text to Killian: I’ve maybe got a lead on the robberies. Don’t wait up.

Not three seconds passed before he was calling her.

“I’ll join you,” Killian said by way of a greeting. “What’s the lead?”

She felt immediately churlish. “You’ve been working a lot of long hours lately; I’ve got this.”

“Don’t be silly, Swan, I’m perfectly well rested. If you think there’s a way to catch the thieves tonight, I’d like to be there to help.”

He had a point, and she knew it. There could be more than one of them, and it would help to have Killian to take them down. And yet, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from arguing. “I don’t want to pull rank on you, but I will if I have to. We can’t expect to run the sheriff’s station effectively if we’re both pulling all-nighters at the same time.”

There was a long pause. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have.”

“Fine. At least promise to call me if you need help,” he said, anger evident in his voice.

“I will.”

He disconnected the call without saying goodbye. Whether that was an indication of his level of frustration or his lack of phone etiquette, she wasn’t sure.

I love you, she texted to him.

He didn’t respond, but Killian wasn’t really a texter, so that wasn’t unusual. Gathering up her belongings, Emma locked up the station, phoning her mother to warn her that she was on her way to borrow her car as she mentally made a list of the terrible junk food she wanted to buy in preparation for her stake out.

~*~

By 10:30 p.m., Emma had finished off the coffee she’d picked up from Granny’s to stay awake.

By midnight, she’d eaten two protein bars and an entire package of Sour Patch Kids, and felt a little sick to her stomach.

At 1:15 a.m., after too many games of Words with Friends with Zelena, her phone battery died. She reached for her charger, groaning when she belatedly realized she’d left it in her Bug when she switched cars with her mother. Frustrated, she threw the phone onto the passenger seat. What she wouldn’t give for a sudoku book right about now, she thought.

At 2:00 a.m., after whisper-singing to herself every pop song she could think of, she started to nod off for the first time.

At about 2:45 a.m., she started to really miss her husband.

The first indication that dawn was on its way reached her eyes sometime after 4:00. Either she’d been wrong that someone was casing the pharmacy, or she’d been wrong that they planned to hit it tonight, or they’d spotted her and gotten scared off. Regardless, her sleepless night had been a huge waste of time. Cranking the engine of Snow’s sensible station wagon, Emma headed for home, figuring she could get a couple of hours of sleep before work.

The house was dim and silent when she let herself in, and she kicked off her shoes, already thinking about how nice and warm Killian would feel when she curled up against him under the covers.

Tiptoeing into the bedroom and closing the door softly, Emma was headed for the bathroom to brush her teeth when Killian turned on his lamp. She jumped.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said, her hand over her chest.

He sat up in bed. “I was, but after I awoke a couple of hours ago and tried phoning you and you didn’t respond, I was too worried to sleep.” The muscle in his jaw spasmed, and Emma knew that he was angry.

“My phone died and I forgot my charger. I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“That was when I realized that you hadn’t even bothered to tell me where you would be. So I’ve been lying here, wondering if I should try walking all over town to try to find you, or if I should call your father and ask him to drive me around looking for you. Or maybe I could go up to the top of the clock tower and spot you that way. And I tried to weigh your frustration with me for doing any of those things against the odds that you were lying injured somewhere. Or dead.” His voice got louder and louder as he spoke, until he was almost shouting at her by the end, his tirade slightly undercut by his mussed bedhead.

Emma swallowed around a lump in her throat. “You’re right. I was thoughtless.”

“Yes, you were.”

She sat down at his side, wondering if she should take his hand. “Can you forgive me?”

He huffed. “Emma, I love you more than anything in my life, of course I can forgive you, but I need to know why you shut me out today.”

She winced. “I just… I still sometimes get itchy, depending on people. And having people depend on me. Maybe I’ll never be completely comfortable with it, I don’t know.” Now she did reach for his hand, and was relieved when he squeezed her fingers gently.

“I watched you die, Emma,” he said, his voice raspy. She looked up from their joined hands into his eyes. “I stood in the street and watched you, my wife who I’d barely managed to have five minutes with after we exchanged vows, throw your sword aside and get impaled.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t have to do the impaling yourself like I did,” she said, trying to make a joke out of the worst moment of her life. Killian didn’t smile.

“You’ve been a beacon of light in my life, leading me out of the darkness. Two hundred years of selfishness and revenge and murder, and loving you pulled me out of that. And I can’t help but think…” He took a shaky breath and looked down at their joined hands again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I had a lot of time to ponder this, while that prophecy was hanging over your head. And it’s not just that losing you would be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s that I don’t think I can keep myself from becoming that man again if I lose you.”

Emma’s heart broke for him. “I think you’re wrong. I think you can. For Henry. For Mom and Dad and for everyone in this town who counts on you and looks to you as a hero. Maybe it was me who started you on the right path at first, but I don’t think it’s me that keeps you on it.” She laughed. “For one thing, I’m not that saintly a person myself.” She scooted a little bit closer to him on the bed. “You still think of yourself as a bad man who changed. But I feel like I know you pretty well by now, and let me tell you, you’re not that. You’re a good man who spent a long time lost, and now you’ve rediscovered who you really are.”

He pursed his lips with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps.”

“We’ve both faced losing the other, and we didn’t deal with it very well.” She blew out a breath. “Me especially. But unless we get super lucky, and live to be a hundred — or in your case, four hundred or whatever,” she said with a laugh, “and die together in our sleep, someday one of us is gonna have to face life without the other.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how. And I’m sorry; I annoyed you today because I was struggling with letting you do things on your own, and I know how independent you are—”

“I could’ve been a lot more sensitive to your fears,” she admitted, leaning over and pulling him into a hug. There was a pause, and then she felt his hand pressing hard against her back, the solid strength of his arms holding her tight.

“I thought I was over it,” he said against her shoulder. “You lived, and everything turned out fine, and almost before I could take a breath we were celebrating our slightly delayed wedding night, and I thought I was over it. But this morning, imagining you falling ill, and then when I couldn’t reach you on your phone…”

“I’m sorry.” She brushed a kiss against his cheek. “I’m really sorry.” Letting out a little hiccupping sigh, an almost-sob, Emma continued to kiss his face. “I’m not over it either,” she whispered.

He kissed her lips then, hard and forceful, a little bit sloppy in his haste. Emma crawled into his lap, their mouths meeting over and over with increasing desperation. “I love you so much,” he gasped as she writhed against him, quite suddenly so aroused that she felt like she was going to jump out of her skin if he didn’t touch her.

“I love you, too.” She spoke the words into his bare shoulder, her teeth scraping his skin. She felt the need to apologize again for making him worry, but she’d apologized enough and he’d accepted, and there was nothing else she could say now. All she could do was let their bodies take over and hope that the pleasure they could make between them would give them both a measure of comfort.

Killian moved his hand around to start unbuttoning her blouse but he was trembling, struggling to work the tiny buttons. Emma stood up from the bed, pulling her clothes off and tossing them aside quickly as Killian did the same with his pajamas. She was back on top of him in an instant, pressing as much of her skin against his as she could, bracketing his hips with her knees, her breasts crushed against his chest and his arms circling her. It felt so good to feel his body against her, warm skin and coarse hair, his calloused fingertips running down her back.

“Tell me what to do,” she said softly, combing her fingers through his hair. “What can I do to make you feel good?”

Usually he was the one asking those kinds of questions, catering to her every desire as if everything he did to her in bed wasn’t fantastic. But tonight it felt hugely important to her that she do for him.

Killian pressed his forehead against hers. “I just need you, Emma.”

Emma reached down between them, closing her fingers around his erection and stroking slowly, making him whimper. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you.”

“You are, gods, so good.” His hips rose underneath her, chasing the movement of her hand.

Suddenly there was nothing she wanted more than to see him come apart like this while they held each other. Emma leaned to one side and made a grab for her bedside table drawer. Killian braced her thigh with the stump of his left wrist so that she wouldn’t fall off of the bed, and she pulled a bottle of lube out of the drawer. He watched her with hooded eyes as she squeezed a small amount of the lubricant into her palm.

When she returned to stroking him, making everything slick as she worked her hand up and down, Killian groaned, his hips matching the rhythm of her strokes. She wrapped her other arm around his back, squeezed him with her thighs, holding him close with every part of her that she could. She felt her inner muscles clenching at the sight of her husband coming undone, wanted to take him inside her and fuck him so badly, but she resisted the temptation. She needed to focus solely on his pleasure for now.

“I wanna see you come, Killian,” she said, increasing the pace of her fist, twisting it over the head of his cock with every upstroke. His eyes clamped shut, a grimace of pleasure-pain on his face. His hand went into her hair, fingers closing in the strands and pulling just enough to make her scalp tingle with the edge of pain.

“You’re mine, my love, my husband, a good man, you’re a good man.” she mumbled, hardly aware if anything she was saying was making sense, because he felt like he was close, he was so very hard in her hand and she was increasingly desperate for it, to feel that hardness slide into her body would feel so fucking amazing, but she kept stroking and he was fucking her fist, his moans increasingly out of his control.

His voice was a hoarse shout when he came, and she watched as the pearly white fluid hit her stomach, dripping down as she coaxed him through it, only letting go when she felt the spasms under her hand stop and his muscles start to relax.

Killian glanced at her from under his eyelashes, his heavy panting breath hot against her skin. He smiled shyly, before looking down at her abdomen again.

“I’ve made a mess of you,” he said, the gravel in his voice turning her on even more.

Emma rolled off of him, collapsing on her back, not cleaning herself up right away so he could look his fill. “Do you like it?” She ran a finger down between her breasts and into the wet evidence of his climax on her stomach. “Seeing me like this?”

Killian slid down and turned on his side, not taking his eyes off of her. “Aye.”

She grinned. “Keep watching.” Her hand continued its path down her body, plunging between her folds and further, two fingers slipping inside and fuck, watching him get off had made her so wet and sensitive. She pressed her palm against her clit and started a rhythm with her hand and her hips. The wet sound of her fingers pumping in and out of her reached her ears.

“You’re a vision like this, marked with my seed and desperate for more,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow. He reached out with his hand, gripping her upper thigh and pulling her legs further apart but otherwise not interfering with what she was doing.

Emma gasped out a strangled noise, shameless in the way she was moving and fucking herself and reaching for her orgasm, which she was barreling toward faster than she would’ve believed, given how incredibly intimate all of this was. Killian watching her touch herself should have been inhibiting, but it wasn’t. She wanted him to see how much she loved him and wanted him, and how just watching him had made her feel so good even when no one was touching her.

She cried out wordlessly, felt her muscles convulse in deep pulses against her fingers as she rode out her climax, her thighs drawing closer together and squeezing her hand in between. At some point she’d closed her eyes, and she felt Killian lift her hand and draw it up to his mouth, his tongue licking the wetness from her fingers. Then he pulled her limp body into his arms, hugging her close.

“Now we’re both a mess,” she said, almost giggling as their abdomens pressed together.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Killian said. He nuzzled against her cheek. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Emma snorted, thinking to herself that she doubted it, given the few racy stories she’d managed to wrangle out of him about Milah, and about some of the debauchery he’d witnessed in brothels over his years as a pirate.

“I can prove it to you, love.” He kissed her chin, rutting his hips against her, and she could tell that he was already half-hard again. “Let’s go rinse off in the shower, and then I’ll fuck you until you can’t move.”

“It’s a deal,” she said, grinning. Killian started to get up, but she stopped him with a hand on his bicep. “Hey. I love you. And I love being with you, even if I sometimes don’t show it.”

He brushed his lips over hers in a soft caress. “Anytime you need to be alone for a little bit, just say the word. I’ll understand.”

“And then afterwards—”

“We come back together like this.” He hauled her leg up over his hip, grinding against her center.

Emma gasped. “Yeah, that works for me.”

CHAPTER 6

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cs smut #cs angst #what comes next fic #my fic

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likeadiamondfrost · 7 years

Text

Jan. Challenge #1

At Face Value: Full Name: Emma Grace Frost My name means “whole” or “universe.” Nicknames: Em [ she only allows certain people this] Frosty, Frosty-Flakes, Snowflake, Auntie Emma, Elsa [ she hates this] Birthdate: July 14, 1993 Birthplace: Boston, Massechuettes. Age: 23. Nationality: American Race: White Astrological Sign + Traits: Cancer: dominating, loyalty, suspicious, manipulative, cultured Hair color: Naturally light brunette, died religiously platinum blonde Eye color: Crystal clear Blue Prominent features: cheekbones Skin tone: Fair Bleshish, Distinguishing Marks or Scars?: Birthmark on her right shoulder, the size of a pin head, she covers with makeup. Build/Body Type: Tall and athletic; modelesque Height: 5′ 10″ Weight: 128 lbs Speech Patterns: Elevated diction, clear enunciation. Received Pronunciation [RP] accent adopted from her father and mother. (hels is just too lazy to write accents) Tag words: Darlings, blood hell Strengths: quick thinking, strategist, great conversationalist, flirtatious, brutally honest when she needs to be. Weaknesses: cold and distant, detaches from emotional problems, fear of falling/heights. Her need to help the little guy.

The questions What is your character’s name? Emma Grace Frost. Unlike her two sisters, Emma’s only nickname is Em, and it was bestowed on her by Christian and adopted by those who are closest to her. She won’t allow anyone she doesn’t trust and let in fully call her Em. Hazel Frost chose the name for it’s classical link to literature, which just so happened to be her favorite novel growing up, and regal connotation it commanded. Winston didn’t care what she was named, only that she not be named something stupid or famous for the era. Her name derives from the Germanic word: ermen meaning “whole” or universe. For the most part, Emma’s name plays no part in her story, but she’s contemplative whether the connotations with Emma have shaped her outlook on a thing.

How old is your character? Emma is 23, born July 14, 1993. She’s a third-year grad student at SHIELD having completed her undergraduate degree at E.S.U [Empire State University]. She looks a bit older than 23, but not by much. Being a telepath, Emma certainly knows more someone at her age should, in multiple areas. With multiple degrees under her belt and a little-transferred knowledge from Shaw, Winston, Edmund Buckman, and more she’s certainly got enough to create a mental library to pick from.

What does your character look like? Emma looks uncannily like Amber heard. She’s 5’ 10” and in heels—which let’s be real she wears every day she can—she’s over 6’. Emma has fair skin with pink undertones to it, upon her right shoulder she has a small almost unnoticeable birthmark. Her hair is to her shoulders now, dyed platinum blonde religiously as to avoid roots, usually with some wave or styled in some way that is in trend now. Her eyes are baby blue, though in some lights they take on a grey hint. Emma has been size 1-2 in pants since maturity and thanks to her diets and rigorous workouts that don't seem to be changing anytime soon

How does your character dress? During her youth, Emma wore a uniform daily but was very much aware of the world of fashion thanks to her sister Adrienne. She often took her hand-me-downs that Adrienne discarded after her modeling gigs. Emma wasn’t as picky as her sister though and took to wearing anything she could after her uniform from her school. It was a learning experience to watch her sister dawn lavish gowns and fur coats, come home with the latest designer handbag or better yet a whole line of clothing. Though in early childhood Emma shied away from being too revealing, feeling more ugly duckling that graceful swan, the invaluable lesson to look good and feel good was ingrained inside her. As she developed into a teenager, Emma took more time in her appearance taking after her eldest sister.

After her time in the Hellfire Club, Emma’s conservative nature was broken and replaced with higher confidence in herself and her body thus the more revealing clothing. On her days to class, Emma can be seen wearing the latest trends from jumpers to off the shoulder crop tops and jeans [some designer some bought off the rack at a 75% sale]. When she attends board meetings and such, Emma can be spotted in designer dresses or white slacks and some colored [or white] top and blazer. Never a pantsuit as those are far too 80s for her. When she's lazy, Emma is almost always in some shirt that falls off her shoulder and a pair of shorts or depending on the weather something comfortable. As of late, she can be seen sporting a pair of sweats swiped from her dare, or her cheer shorts. If Emma is attending any sort of event like a party, she almost always dresses in something tight and revealing, skin and high priced jewelry are keys. If she were to attend another wedding, she would opt for something more conservative, and not white, something that doesn’t reveal too much of her cleavage and falls to just above or below her knee. Emma’s sense of style come from the fact that she is always dressing to impression, always striving to be flawless and impeccable, but she never forgets her confidence. The way she dresses is an extension of her personality in a way—dominating and controlled—and when Emma Frosts leaves the house you can bet she doesn’t give a damn what you think. Her clothing then by definition make her feel good, empowered and as Emma’s learned is a tool to get what she wants when she wants it. While her closet is full of many colors, it’s about 75%, White.

What are some notable relationships your character has? Emma’s life is riddled with significant relationships. From her favorite school teacher: Mister Ian Kendell to people at SHIELD it’s a broad range of things.

The first and foremost coming from her family. Emma’s relationship with Hazel and Winston is estranged at best. Though she used to be the loving daughter, upon her mutant developing did it become clear to her who exactly her parents were, though her revelation with Hazel didn’t come until later. Emma has without a doubt Hazel had the same level of contempt for her children that she did Winston. It was a tolerable situation, one she was passive in rather that active. That doesn’t mean she didn’t love Emma or her siblings. Winston Frost’s opinion of his children deals solely with their usefulness, Emma proving to be the most attuned to his mindset over her sisters and brother she was his bright pupil. The one who was meant to inherit the title and business. For a while, Emma played along until it became more than obvious she was simply a pawn to Winston, he didn’t actually care about her. Her relations with her sister fell into the same disrepair as with Winston. Adrienne being the first but not the last person Emma learned to hate. Later on when she learned how manipulative Adrienne had become Emma’s distaste for her only grew. Cordelia, on the other hand, was a different story. The two were at odds far less than Emma and Adrienne, but as they matured, it became that Cordelia’s behavior was shaped by being the rebellious daughter and the reason—without a doubt in Emma’s mind that Christian fell into drugs. It put a damper on their relationship, though Emma still talks to her sister on occasion sending a card of “well wishes” or something generic of the sort but hasn’t spoken to her since Adrienne’s funeral. Christian, was the expectation to everything. He was her closest friend growing up, someone she felt comfortable talking to about everything, except her mutation. It put a strain on their relationship immensely, and in her attempt to help him Emma lost the only person she was closest to in her family. And to this day can’t…forgive herself for letting Winston manipulator her and his admission into Snow Valley Mental Hosptial--which she would later in life attend as well.

The next, and probably the most important relationships are the ones that shaped Emma, her ambitions, drives and more important her “tastes” are the multitudes of boyfriends. Beginning with Ian Kendell. Ian was the first to show faith in Emma’s brains and ability to be more than she saw herself. While the other girls teased her mercilessly and her family care for nothing but perfection, Ian as she later called him, was helping her and encouraging her. During the delicate time in her life just at the peak of maturity when her telepathy was beginning Emma found Ian’s hopeful kindness the light at the end of the tunnel. As the two began to spend more and more time together, Emma’s school girl crush blossomed, and it was Ian who made the first move—mentally of course. Emma, being Emma and growing in confidence as her powers developed made the first move kissing Mister Kendell on her front porch after he’d graciously given her a ride home. To say she always had unresolved feelings for Ian would be an understatement. After he was forced to leave her school—at the words of Winston how was a huge donor to the school’s financial department—Emma moved on with her life. Reuniting when she graduated early and began attending ESU. Dating her college roommate Christie, Ian had found a job as a counselor to the students. And just like being struck by lightning, Emma’s old buried feelings resurfaced. When Christie and Ian broke up, due to what Emma would later find out to be Astrid’s doing, Emma and Ian began to have a relationship. It became apparent to Emma that Ian loved her and she reciprocated the feelings foolheartedly. It was the first after Troy that made Emma lose her guards. When Ian’s job was put in jeopardy due to his pervious and current relationships, Emma used her telepathy to control Christie’s testimony and have the charges dropped. Unwilling to keep secrets between her and Ian, Emma told Ian she was a mutant. She expected understanding and love, the only thing Ian had ever shown her. Instead, she was met with hatred and heartbreak. The words: “You’re a monster” are one she’ll never forget. To this day, Emma has learned her lesson of opening up to people, to letting them see the real and very vulnerable Emma Frost. Ian is the primary reason Emma doesn’t do long term relationships anymore, and the main reason she believes everyone will ultimately leave her. Tory. After Emma had graduated high school, she set her sights on New York. After years of being Winston’s personal telepathy, Emma turned down his generous offer to be the next in line to take the company and all it’s worth, Emma packed her bags and left. Multimillion dollar inheritance was all but forgotten. Being in a strange city, and still grappling with her telepathy, Emma found that she could—if she concentrated enough—trick people into giving her what she wanted. After dining in a high-class restaurant, Emma was discovered on the video camera. Forced to pick between washing dishes and jail, Emma complied never having washed a single dish in her life, much to the amusement of the busboy Troy. The two became fast friends and soon, Emma and he were living together in a small studio apartment a quick walk from their work. And for once, Emma thought things would end out okay. She should have known better. After learning that Tory owed a drug dealer money, Emma offered to tag along at his casino excursion to help him win the money to pay back his debt. Unfortunately for them, time was not on their side. While Emma was convincing Troy she could really help, more so than being a good luck charm, collectors had come. Hearing their thoughts just in time, Emma was able to give Tory and her a head start, but fate had other plans. Catching up with them, Emma and Tory were beaten and held captive. After explaining he didn’t have the money, and he could Tory’s life dangled in peril. Scared and battling the onslaught of voices in her head, Emma was no use. After bargaining for his life at gunpoint, Tory told the dealer that Emma came from a wealthy family. Not in means of helping them both, but because he was trying to save his own skin. Finding no use for Tory, Emma while gagged and caged, witnessed his death. It’s a memory that still haunts her. It was the first, but not the last time Emma would see someone’s death.

Even though she might not have come into her own until later on in life, Emma grew up beside several others including Charles Xavier, Warren Worthington III, and Tony Stark. The two latter were a point of character building. They were Emma’s solace during her time in the Frost Manor as the three banded together and alongside a few other wealthy family children created the #richkidclub. Beginning with her on again off again relationship with Warren Worthington, Emma found that she rather liked defying her father and Warren was the perfect excuse to do so. When they first began dating, Emma was mousy and quiet but soon came into her own. The two were inseparable. Showing up at all the parties hosted by people in both their schools, galas, charity balls for the families. It never failed that alongside Tony, the two could be seen getting into some trouble for stealing a bottle of champagne to drink on the roof to partying in one of their yachts. When it became apparent to Emma that Warren had the heart of a playboy, she and he called it quits only to start back up again when it was convenient for both of them. And while Emma might have loved Warren, the two were better off as fuckbuddies than actual partners, much to the happiness of Worthington II. With Warren, Emma experienced a lot and even learned that she was the type to stray given the right circumstances—meaning she’d been unable to think of a way of getting out of some Hellfire business. Though it was the first and last time, she ever did. It was with Warren that Emma found a liking for adventure and sexuality. Warren was the first real relationship, outside of the Hellfire Club Emma had while she was a dancer there and the last before she moved to Iowa. Tony Stark, is a very different type of person. Emma’s on again off again relationship with Tony had a bit more substance than the flings she had with Warren. She cares, still to this day, about Tony but knows her on again off again relationship with him and Warren was a spot of friction between the two. When she wasn’t draped on Warren’s arm or tangled in his bed, Emma was with Tony until she left New York. The two were inseparable for a while, and Emma often turned to Tony when her family became unbearable over the long breaks from ESU. For a while, Emma had even pictured being married Tony, but it became apparent that some things just weren’t for her. When they broke off, Emma and he stayed friends and even rekindled a bit of their romance during the first semester at SU. These two relationships are what defined Emma’s life after Troy, and helped define who she was as she discovered herself in the Hellfire Club and in New York. She finds them comforting and unlike her pervious relationships don’t end in heartbreak and horror.

Emma’s best friend, oddly enough, is Tiberius Stone. The two had a rocky start with her slapping him and calling bullshit on his anti-mutant hate when he didn’t know what was going on. The two are now thick as thieves. They enjoy their TLC nights and quietly—not so quiet really—judging people together. Emma would do anything to make sure Ty is in her life and to protect him. She would probably commit murder if needed. She was willing to do it the moment his powers were discovered, and he was thrown into the very cells that she had been locked into. It was a turning point in their relationship and one she keeps in mind. She's there for him for girl talk and her new favorite ritual TLC nights and knows if she finds herself in yet another bad ending relationship at least someone will let her be emotional without judgment.

Sebastian Shaw and Emma’s relationship is complex as is it intertwined. Beginning as her first friend at the Hellfire Club, Emma took a strong liking to Sebastian. Though the two frequently didn’t work close to each other, as Emma was busy on the stage and Sebastian with Buckman, the two found time to talk with each other on her breaks when she wasn’t off entertaining on of the clubs many wealthy members. Sebastian was Emma’s first real taste of the world of craft and elegant manipulation. Shaw was the first person to see Emma for who she was now in the world and help her develop her view on mutant rights. As they got to know each other, Emma developed a crush on Sebastian, and after he initially turned her down, Emma was rather cool toward him. She’s not one to take rejection lightly. Though she softened up toward him again, working her way in his good graces once again. After overthrowing Buckman, the two grew quite close and though at time Sebastian became possessive of Emma—her being his white queen and right hand—the two shared a causal relationship. That didn’t mean Emma didn’t love Sebastian as they grew closer, finding a kinship and likeness in the darker side of the world. Upon her death and the misguiding of Selene, Emma’s faith in Sebastian faltered, but as she stands now, Emma follows him. She knows every queen is nothing without a king and vice versa. And Sebastian has yet to prove to her otherwise.

Astrid Bloom is and will always be Emma’s first milestone marker. Astrid was many things to Emma and continues to be many things though the two haven’t talked or seen each other in years. Starting off as Emma’s friend and mentor, Astrid was the first telepath, besides Charles, Emma had met. While she and Charles always did thing the proper way, Astrid taught Emma control. Emma felt a bond with Astrid she hadn’t felt before, and in a way Emma loved her like a sister. The two grew close and what Emma believed to be her best friend quickly turned into possession and manipulation. Astrid had been behind Emma’s back sabotaging all of Emma’s other relationships at ESU. From having a sweet boy named Max to lose his mind and strike Emma to manipulating the board and Kristy to get Ian to lose his job, Astrid was behind. When Emma found out and confronted Astrid in their dorm. What should have been the end, turned into Emma being trapped in the girl’s psyche while Ian’s trial was held. For the next part, Emma has nothing but praise for Astrid. Without her mind and her psyche, Emma would have never learned the things she did. And learn she did. Emma found a way out of Astrid’s mind, and in turn dragged the woman into her own mind where she locked the door and threw away the key. Leaving her comatose, Emma left Astrid to be found by campus EMTs and moved to right the wrong she’d done to Ian.

Over her lifetime, Emma Frost has made enemies of many people. She knows that her personality and way of going about things that don't make her privy to gaining many friends. And she’s okay with that, protecting those she cares about with a fierceness.

What is in your character’s memory? Being a telepath, Emma is able to vividly remember a lot of things, store it and recall it within in seconds. A trick she picked up muddling around Astrid’s psyche. The most vivid of course comes from the moments that happened to shape the woman she is today: her first dance, Winston’s betrayal, The Clinic, Troy’s death, Ian’s rejection, meeting Shaw, the first time she saw a dead body. She’s burned those into her memory as to never forget what she’s been through and what she’ll continue to go through all her life because she’s ‘different.'

Though she remembers most things, Emma has blocked out the harder to swallow moments of her life. She hasn’t severed the memory, but she’s diluted it enough it feels foreign to her. These are only a handful of moments: What the orderlies did to her, the feel of their hands among other things on her at the Clinic, the miscarriage, and Tory’s death are all the top of the list.

Emma’s memories begin at the age of 6. She remembers playing school in her room while Winston had some meeting downstairs. She, Christian, Adrienne, and Cordelia had been running through the halls when they’d bumped into one of their mother’s priceless vases. It had shattered and disrupted Winston’s deal. Winston never hit his children more than needed, and Emma remembers each of them being too scared to say anything or cry out. It’s one of many unpleasant memories she has with her family. Though Emma has been conditioned enough to say to the press that Winston was a role model.

Her memories with her friends are much different. She can remember the first-time Tony, Warren and she snuck away during a winter gala, a few stolen bottles of champagne between them. She remembers the giggles the first time, prim and proper Emma had tasted champagne. The feel of it on both their lips as they played spin the bottle with a few other mischievous kids who’d found them sitting in one of the offices. She remembers the time they were on Warren’s yacht, and someone had pushed some kid overboard, but they were far too drunk to do anything but laugh, it had been Warren who’d rescued him. Though many of these memories are happy, there are few not so happy in the mix. The most recent being her fight with Tony over her powers.

While Emma might have an excellent memory, she tends to make sure things are wrapped up, and there are no loose ends when she moves on to bigger things. While Emma might remember certain faces and names, they only remember what she wants them to remember, and thus never leaves any stones unturned. It’s a habit she developed with Shaw to ensure her powers and identity as a mutant were kept secret.

Where does your character live? Emma’s lives several places throughout her life. The first being Frost Manor, in Boston. Frost Manor was the epitome of what one expects from a wealthy family. Three stories, too many rooms to count at a young age. Grand kitchen, several dining rooms- one formal used for nightly family dinners, parlors, offices, library, long winding drive, grand entrance. Located in the high society part of town, Frost Manor was situated on acres of land the nearest building being a good 15 minutes from the grounds in the gated community. For the most part, the community was conservative 1% and almost always Winston’s business partners.

In New York, Emma had a loft in Manhattan. With one wall filled with floor to ceiling windows, she had a fantastic view over the city below her. Clean and modern in style, Emma made sure things were exactly as she see fit and it shows her. Its community was pretty diverse, and many didn’t know she was a sex worker on the side of being CEO, but that was neither here nor there. For the most part, Emma stayed to herself, a friendly hello or exchange in the halls but for the most part. She never entertained gentlemen or club members at her loft, it was strictly off limits. Keeping a part of it to herself and only herself. It became a rule for her. Unless she knew them like Warren, Tony or Sebastian Emma never allowed those two things to cross.

When she moved to Iowa and was forced to live in dorms. Emma took the opportunity to 1) make sure she didn’t have a roommate for the first year 2) makes sure that all the needed things are taken care of. At the expense of her wallet, Emma made sure she had the best of the best. And the included finding a way to block out the noise of the students. It’s not fool proof, but she’s still in search of something that keeps her from going insane in her head. Now that she’s in the co-ed dorm, Emma is about keeping her door closed. Whereas before she never locked her bedroom dorm, she had it to herself after all. She doesn’t care she’s sharing with two males, she’s perfectly okay co-habituating with them, but she has a feeling it’s going to be trying in the future. And yes, she wishes she was back in New York. She doesn’t and sometimes can’t fall asleep with the quiet the campus offers and often spends those hours in her bed working on her powers or bouncing from head to head.

What is your character’s room like? Contrary to popular belief, Emma’s bedroom is not all white. It’s impractical. Though the walls a white, as is her frosted glass desk, but the bed, closet doors, and wood floors are dark wood. Her style is very modern as one can see through the platform style queen-size bed pushed up against the wall that is across from the window (with storage for out of season clothing and shoes underneath), wood and glass closet doors, complete with organizers that keep everything neat. Her attached bathroom is like the others: modern in style. With white fluffy towels and white rug and her bathrobe hung in precisely the right spot. Her time with Astrid as a roommate taught her to be organized and yet lived in. After a long hard day, a few items of clothing can be seen see across the floor, heels at the inside of the door instead of putting away.

For the most part, Emma’s closet it always full of clothing, high priced and some sales rack discounts, neatly hunt and sorted by item of clothing rather than color. Her shoes hang in a shoe organizer or on the shoe rack at the base of the closet. Though it’s small because what dorm closet is big? Emma has taken the liberty of using the spare room in her shared dorm for clothing she doesn’t often wear—like summer outfits in the winter—regardless of what Alex or Tony think or care.

What is your character good at? Emma would like to think she’s perfect at everything, but that’s not always the case. Being a telepath Emma is very well adept at reading people. It comes from quiet observations during his childhood as well as her psychotherapy training more so than being in their heads, though it certainly helps. Emma was never particularly overly smart, school wise, though the development of her telepathy helped that area immensely. She was, however, smart in another way. Emma was able to, like in chess, see the way piece and areas moved together. This was a talent that Winston first manipulated and was proud to see in his daughter. It’s the trait he wished all his children had, but Emma was the only one to act on it accordingly and wisely. Being able to do such things is also what draw Emma to Shaw. She at his side learned how to craft that ability into a skill and talent. Over the years, she’s learned to make it her own of course and its one of those skills she find she needs in every given situation. Emma was always excellent at commanding the attention of a room, this came about the older she got and the less time she spent being mousy at home and with her siblings. She likes to give the credit to Tony and Warren among others in their little group for bringing that out in her. While she was certain more bookworm than an athlete, Emma excelled in her fencing lessons and equestrian training, without the use of her telepathy. Always been more physically inclined than her sisters. She took an interest in the latter as it was one thing she and Christian did together. Them and no one else. Foreign languages, due in part because of her telepathy, also come very easy to Emma and by now speaks over thirty languages fluently. Her favorite, of course, being French and Italian.

What does your character want? Emma wants a lot of things in life. Always have and perhaps always will. But Emma’s driving force is her want to do something meaningful with her life and help others. She doesn’t want to be the next Winston in the world where all she does is to benefit for her and her alone. It’s what drove her to choose education and psychology as majors at ESU, later obtaining her master in psychotherapy at a rapid pace and it’s what drives her to want to help mutant kind now. While her methods of going about it haven’t always been morally correct, the end results have never altered. Emma Frost at her core wants to contribute to the world and make it better for mutants. Whether it be teaching, leading a team, protecting them when they don’t want her defending, brokering backroom deals Emma Frost has never, in her life, lost sight of that. It’s become clearer to her, as she’s aged and even more so recently, that her passion for teaching, to be that force in someone's life is still very much a goal of hers. What good is having money, having power and control if all she does it waste it on furiously things. She’s always dreamed of opening her own school. One exclusive to mutants. A place where they can train, learn and grow as a community rather than ostracized in mixed company or selected as the next scapegoat.

It’s from this that Emma’s want for mutant rights comes from. To see to it that, though they’re superior and different from humans, they are no less human and worth the same. It comes as no surprise to her or others how far Emma is willing to take things to see her goal through. She has, after all, died for mutant rights and activism. Has died to make a difference in the world and would gladly do it again if it meant a change for her people. She has no qualms about using people, manipulating situations, brokering shady contracts and other such immoral things to see that what needs to be done is done. In short, Emma will stop at nothing to make it a dream, even if she knows that for every step forward they take humans will always fear them. And in that case, Emma would be more than willing to get even and prove just how big a mistake that is to anyone who stands in her way.

While her primary goal might be the help, Emma’s learned over the year this goal has been tainted by the want to be accepted and if not loved. She chalks this up to the lack of love she experienced as child and daddy issues, but it remains that unlike others Emma has never been able to fully say she is loved. That someone sticks around. It’s not something that she expresses or cares about (openly) because she finds it’s silly and stupid to base one’s desires and ambitions on something like love and acceptance, but she’s come to realize, more recently especially at SU, how profoundly influencing that can be when she’s making choices. Then again who doesn’t wish and hope to be loved in their life? Especially given her relationship with love and emotions it comes to no surprise to her that this is something that motivates her. She’s found that when she loves, she loves ferociously and falls fast—even if it’s only one-sided—and protects them with everything she can offer. While it might not be easy for her open, Emma tends to be more honest and more forthcoming with people she cares about. She feels guilt and questions herself more as well. She would willing put herself in harm’s way if it meant someone she cared about was save in the process. [ Examples: Halloween Dance 2015. Punching Logan in the face, Cure Plot 2016.]

What does your character do when they’re not at home? Mainly when Emma is out with her friends, she is usually in their dorm room or having coffee and at the campus bar. Nothing overtly fancy. When she’s out by herself, Emma tends to find ways to avoid people and thus the constant banging of thoughts against her head. This includes running, working out in the danger room/rec center, meditating, gardening, horseback riding and spending time curled up in bed with a book or Netflix.

She’s never been religious, always saying she’s an atheist because she’s learned that if there ever was a god he certainly didn’t care enough to notice what was going on in life, and thus doesn’t attend church. She doesn’t understand the process of those who do but allows them to believe what they wish as long as it doesn’t impact her life she could care less.

What does your character like to do? Emma has always loved horseback riding. Even as a young girl it was her favorite activity. She can’t explain the draw of spending time with horses or the calmness it causes in her. Perhaps it’s the reminder of when things in her life weren’t so messed up, or perhaps it’s the idea that such a beautiful creature can be deadly and a force to be reckoned with. Beyond this Emma has a deep love dance and art. While she can’t draw to save her life—though she’s downloaded the information from Ciaran and others she knows –shes more into admiring artist at work and the product than making it. While she’s taken many dancing classes through her life, Emma’s favorite has always been ballet. She often as a child dreamed of being a ballerina but that quickly disappeared with age.

How does your character love? Emma’s always been more of an open relationship type of person, but somehow it always ends up being exclusive. Except for Warren, Emma typically dates one person and one along. She has always identified as female and straight, though she’s been known to experiment from time to time and has no qualms about others sexuality. This comes from the hellfire club and how she was known to entertain. Not all dignitaries and members were male. Either way, Emma’s consideration that looks are just as important as personality is titled more toward looks. While she’s not one to complain if the person of her affections happens to be below average in appearance but has a better personality. She’s shallow and mostly gravitates toward someone of handsome features rather than not.

Emma is a hard person to know in general. She’s closed off and cold because she’s learned from her past not to let anyone in. They leave. They hurt her, intentionally or not. But when she falls in love with someone she falls in love with them. It’s not coated with unrealistic ideals or expectations. Emma only ever expects—and foolishly lets herself believe—they’re going to be different than the last. For the first few moments that she realizes she’s in love, she knows it’s panic setting in instead of giddiness. Love means mistakes and getting sloppy. It means letting them in and seeing her at her most vulnerable and weak and accepting that she’s allowing them to see her as such. It means Emma Frost showing them the real, raw Emma without hiding something or pretending it’s a fluke. Most of the time, with few exceptions, Emma doesn’t act on her feelings. She doesn’t let it progress, like stomping out a flame. But there are exceptions to this rule. People who get past the cold and hard exterior. Individuals who make her wish she wasn’t how she is. Make her want to be better, to feel more openly. And then they leave, and she’s left feeling empty in a way she can’t explain. There’s only so many times a person can go through that before it begins to affect their outlook. And as of late, Emma has begun to realize that she will never be anyone’s first choice—nor has she ever been—and has come to accept that while she can have any many she desires for a night, she will never have someone beside her to last.

Because of this, Emma’s ideal partner doesn’t exist. She doesn’t spend nights daydreaming of her wedding, or who they’ll be. She doesn’t lie to herself like that.

While her romantic love life might not be so happy, Emma does loves platonically and just as fiercely. Unlike romantic love, Emma allows herself to express and feel this type of love. She showers those she loves, like Ty and Tony with gifts and things they might not need and spends most of her time with them to express it.

Regardless of how they feel about her, platonically or romantically, Emma is willing to do whatever she needs to or can to protect them and show them she cares. While it’s harder for her to open up, she has no problem proving she cares and making sure they are safe before going about her business. Emma is exceedingly vengeful as well. If someone or something hurts someone’s she loves there will, without failure, be fallout from her. And when it happens there is no spot in heaven, hell, or earth anyone can hide. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn, has nothing on the wrath a Frost can rain down upon anyone who deserves it.

What will ultimately destroy your character? Emma Frost’s ego and personality are probably the worst things to happen to her. She is her own worst enemy. While, the tearing down when she’s left by yet another romantic interest, losing someone she cares about or being hurt, harm her, it’s her choice after these events that cause the most damage. She’s more likely to be reckless rather than rational and won’t let other’s influence her decisions or actions. Her ego, while she tends to keep it in check can and does get the better of her. Highly competitive, Emma strives to always be the best in the room—unless she knows she’s outmatched and then she settles for second best. The best example of this coming from the Cure Plot 2016, There really is no way to prevent it from happening, as one can’t battle themselves but Emma knows now more than ever if anything can bring a queen to her knees it’s her whims, ego, and the king.

Emma was her own demise, and nothing in the world can change that. The only thing that comes close is Sebastian Shaw. He’s the closest thing to someone important in her life, someone who hasn’t left yet. He is and might always be, the only man that Emma fears. Not because of brute strength but because he knows her too well. Knows just where the holes in her armor lie. Being open and honest with someone does that. While she trusts him, Emma can’t help but feel as of late that perhaps things will change and she’ll need to be ready for what’s to come. She doesn’t worry about this too much as they are on good terms but if the winds were to change, Emma would like to think that she can and would be able to bring him down. For she knows just as much about him as he does her. But physically isn’t a match for him. If this were to happen, Emma knows the end result would not stack in her favor. The results of losing Shaw as an ally would be disastrous in more than one way. There’s a good chance, though Emma would bounce back quickly, she’d sink into a slight depression—losing someone close can do that to even the mightiest of people. Shaw is the closest thing to family she has—nix Tony and her friends at SU—and is the only person who has seen Emma as Emma. Not as some force to be taken down, or as just a lover or the telepath with loose morals. It would be like losing a part of her. Her outlook on everything she’s ever done for and with Shaw would change, and the excuses that she doesn't see as excuses would cease. There would be a shift in everything she does, how she handles things, how she sees the world.

#[ inside the mind of a telepath: characterization ]#suchallenge1 #//i am not sorry #//DO NOT QUESTION MY DEVOTION OR LOVE FOR EMMA FROST. I WILL SHUT YOU DOWN #//this is like 6700 words read at your own risk

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