#i met her once when she came to visit when i was supervising lunch and she scolded me for resting my elbow on the trash can | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 3

Here is act 3!!! Thank you so much for all of your enthusiasm so far! Hope you enjoy :)

8.6k - masterlist - ao3

Aelin has never really thought of herself as someone with a lot of friends. She’s always had Elide, Aedion and Lysandra, but they almost fall into a separate category. Like what they’ve been through surpasses friendship, and she thinks at this point Elide and Lysandra are as much her family as Aedion.

Throughout her years in the industry she hasn’t made many friends, Chaol and Dorian are probably the only two, but she's learned how things work. It didn't take her long to realise that all the girls she met at auditions, and bonded with over all of the things they had in common, would have stabbed her right in the back at the earliest opportunity.

It's cutthroat, but she can't say she's never succumbed to the temptations.

She’d be lying if she said she’d never pretended she was there to audition for another character just to get the other actress to spill her analysis of the character. She can’t say it was unintentional when she’d leave the audition room and then pretend to take a phone call where she’d discuss how pleased the casting director had been with her take and had promised to call, watching the faces fall of the other hopefuls she waltzed past.

She can’t say she’d never do it again.

That said, she feels like she has a good thing going with Fenrys, Manon and Rowan. They've hung out a couple of times and she likes them admittedly more than she thought she would at first. The dynamic is fast and snappy, funny and sarcastic, and she can feel herself getting back into the old motions.

Aelin knows they’re friends now, and it feels really fucking good, but she has one concern. She’s not entirely sure that what she feels for Rowan can be described as friendship and she’s kicking herself for letting it happen. The physical attraction she can excuse, he looks how he looks and she’s defenseless against that, but the rest? The rest is where she’s really let herself go.

He’s opened up to them a lot more now, and they spend a lot more time together than they did at the start. Just last week she had thrown herself into her seat at the end of a long day of shooting and plunked her feet in his lap. She had expected him to throw them off and growl something at her, but he had simply rested his left hand on her ankle and continued to scroll through his phone with his right.

It had felt far too easy to settle into his touch, and far too enjoyable to have the heat of his skin against her own.

Even so, there’s a level of detachment to his interaction with them. He falls somewhere between bemused dad and despairing lecturer tasked with herding a group of unruly children through a life or death venture. He curses actors all day long but he’s just as dramatic. There are moments when she catches him beginning to smile at a comment from Fenrys or the bickering she and Manon do before he halts himself and seems to rein it back in.

She wants to see him grin.

It’s kind of weird to think back to the first week of shooting and how unsure she felt around them, how insecure she was of her own ability compared to theirs, but by now she’s pretty sure she’s past the worst of that and she doesn’t want to waste any more time doubting herself, at least in comparison to them. It helps when Rowan makes little comments like nice job, Aelin or when she catches the nod he does after she nails a scene, especially when he tries to hide it.

She posted a picture on Instagram of the four of them from set last week, her and Manon crouched at the front wrapped up again in the massive coats they give them on set, their faces almost completely covered by the puffed up collars, and Rowan and Fenrys stood behind them, their arms crossed across their chests and faces twisted into overly dramatic imitations of anger. It had taken some pleading and possible bribery from Fenrys to get Rowan to agree to the pose, but they had succeeded in the end.

She had captioned it so we stole their coats… and tagged each of them, watching as the likes came flooding in. Only seconds later the comments had begun to run a bit wild.

This is going to be so good I can already tell.

fenrys looks so hot fuck me up

ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!

Are they dating?

She stopped reading the comments pretty quickly after that.

They’re about a third of the way into shooting, and Aelin knows what she’s accomplished so far is some of her best work. It hasn’t been easy, but she’s put hours and hours of her time into understanding her character and she feels like she truly knows Feyre, and almost sees some of herself in her. There are differences of course, Aelin isn’t quite as naive as Feyre or as forgiving, but they’ve both been dealt a shitty hand, and Aelin likes to think she’s working just as hard as Feyre to pick herself back up.

She finishes the take, and slaps her usual high-five against Fenrys’ palm and sends her regular nod over to Rowan. Good? Her nod asks. Good, his own gesture returns. She tucks her smile away as she begins to wander over to where he’s stood chatting with a producer.

She’s built a habit of going over to him once they finish shooting, she wants to seek him out constantly, and she feels drawn to him in a way that she’s beginning to lose the fight against. She’s about halfway towards him when she spots a tall head of brown hair making its way towards her.

She barely has time to process before there are a pair of strong arms around her waist and she’s being lifted up and swung around, her feet dangling inches above the ground.

“Hello, superstar.” His voice is deep in her ear and she can feel the vibrations where she buries her face into his neck.

“Gods! I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.”

She gasps as he places her back down on the ground and she can finally smile up at Chaol. Taking in the chestnut-brown of his hair and the faint creases beginning at the corners of his rich brown eyes. Gods, she’s missed him.

She’s known he’d be visiting the set at some point. The Crescent City is his baby, a script he’s been working on for years, and she knows he couldn’t stomach leaving it all to Rowan without any supervision.

He had first mentioned it to her a few years ago, but back then it was nothing more than an idea. Aelin knew he had been chipping away at it in the background for a while and it wasn’t a surprise when he first sent it to her. It’s different now though, now that there’s a budget and a set and actual progress made in getting it on screen.

It feels like a big deal to her; she can’t imagine how Chaol feels.

She had never dreamed though, through all of their midnight conversations about it and their half-dreaming out loud discussions, that she would be the one to star in it.

Chaol just grins at her, a twinkle in his eyes that she knows means he’s happy, and says “thought I’d surprise you.”

“It’s definitely a surprise.” She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck for a second time. She squeezes him tight and breathes him in, his smell is comforting and it makes her feel young again. “How long are you here for?”

He gives her waist a short squeeze, reminding her that his hands are still resting there with hers still up on his shoulders. It’s not the closest she’s ever been to him, and it doesn’t cross her mind for her touching him so freely to be an issue.

“A couple of days.” He smiles down at her again. “Lunch?”

“Of course, let me change first?” She asks, releasing his shoulders and turning to walk back to her trailer. He holds a hand out, as if to say lead the way.

She sets off as he follows, and she can feel the lightness of the wide smile across her face. It’s a kind of comfort now that Chaol is here, he’s taken care of her for so many years and his presence grounds her in a way she hasn’t really found with many other people.

Rowan still stands with the producer behind where some of the team are tinkering with the filming equipment. His brow is drawn into a frown and the producer standing with him has begun to look profoundly uncomfortable.

The take was good, she knows that, and when he runs a jagged hand over his face a jolt of concern strikes her. He looks anguished, or frustrated, and she wonders how he’s soured so quickly after the silent exchange they shared mere moments ago.

His gaze snaps to hers and it’s a powerful thing. His stare weighs heavily into her, so much so she wants to look away and her steps falter. The stumble is barely perceptible, but she sees it and thinks maybe he does too. There’s something thorny in the pull of his brows and the twist of his mouth and she wants to go over, ease his troubles, but that’s not her place. And Chaol is inches behind her following her lead.

Rowan’s eyes flick to Chaol and his mouth twists further. And not to get ahead of herself yet again, but surely not, right? His gaze switches back to rest on her, only for a second longer before he mouths something short and sharp to the producer and disappears.

Aelin shakes it off. She might think they’re friends, but as has become her mantra, he’s her boss. What she needs is something gentle and simple and uncomplicated. In the real world, everything she wants from Rowan is decidedly complicated.

Sitting opposite Chaol is a place she’s been many times before. More often than not, Dorian would have taken up the mantle at Chaol’s side, the pair of them closer than brothers. They have the kind of relationship she thinks truly cannot exist for people other than the two of them.

The level of understanding they share, the lengths they would go to for each other, it’s unparalleled and she longs to find a bond like that one day.

When she was younger being sat in a position like this, opposite Chaol, so close they could whisper to converse, would have been a dream. She had a bit of an infatuation with him when she first met him; he was a few years older than her, charming, handsome and calming. He had been her entrance to the world she lives in now and he had kept her safe and taken care of her.

She had thought he was everything she wanted.

She had realised pretty quickly, after going in for an ill advised kiss that he had swerved, that that would never be an option for them. He had let her down kindly and gently, which she appreciates now, even if it felt like a blow at the time.

He hadn’t let her pull back from him though, he had kept her close until she eventually got over the embarrassment and was able to look at him without blushing. It’s not something she dwells on now, she was young and naive and she could have done a lot worse than Chaol.

He was who she had gone to when she had met Sam. She had waxed poetic to him about the boy with the curly brown hair and the shy smile. She smiles lightly to herself at the thought of him, what he would make of where she’s at now.

He’d kiss her cheek with his arms around her waist, boasting how his girl, his baby, was a star in the making. She swallows the thought, struck by both the image and the lingering pain it brings, but also by the knowledge that she’s gone a couple of days without thinking of him.

She hasn’t thought of the boy with the brown eyes in a few days, hasn’t woken up screaming in even more. She breathes past the panic that threatens in her throat, both at the idea that she hasn’t thought of Sam for a while and the reasons there could be for that.

“How is the love of my life?” She focuses back on Chaol and watches him try very hard not to choke on his mouthful of his drink.

He had picked the cafe, even though she’s been in Rifthold for a while it is still far more his space than hers, and he knows the hidden gems like this that she isn’t privy to yet. It’s rustic and cosy, the brick walls have colourful bunting draped between them and none of the chairs inside match. She’ll have to come back if the food is good, the atmosphere inside is relaxed and busy enough that she can feel completely anonymous. She doesn’t want to leave, maybe next time she can bring a book.

“My beautiful wife is well,” he manages once he swallows, and she smirks at how he knows exactly what she’s asking. “Almost past the second trimester now, and still refusing to slow down.”

That sounds exactly like Yrene. She says as much and Chaol nods wearing the expression of a man who, if he didn’t love his wife so much, would be tired of chasing after her.

Yrene is a whirlwind of energy and efficiency and it’s why she’s one of Aelin’s favourite people. She’s full of exciting tales and inspiration, that is, when she can get Yrene to slow for a second enough to catch up. She probably doesn’t need her high paced job as a doctor in Rifthold General Hospital, like, Chaol’s scripts are successful, he’s won a number of awards that sit in a special cabinet in their house, but that’s just how Yrene is.

Caring and kind and so, so smart. If Aelin didn’t do what she does, she’d love to be like Yrene.

“Second trimester?” She cries. “He’s almost here!”

Chaol is again at risk of choking. “Aelin, please. I still have a few months left to get ready.”

He looks almost panicked and she scoffs. “Chaol, please.” She mocks his tone perfectly and ignores the eye roll he gives her. “You were born ready. You’ve basically raised me for the past few years and look how well I’m doing.”

He laughs, and she smiles, it’s exactly the reaction she wanted.

“I’m not sure that’s the glowing compliment you think it is,” He says dryly and she just pokes her tongue out at him.

“Chaol,” she begins, seriously this time. “You are already the best dad I know, you’ll be fine. And if not, the baby has Yrene, so he’ll definitely be fine.”

He doesn’t bite on any of it, just looks bashfully to the table cloth and nods. She can’t resist one last comment.

“And even then, he’ll have me and Dorian.”

“Gods, Aelin. The thought will send me to an early grave.”

She tilts her head to the side and sketches a flip of her hair over her shoulder. The combination of her and Dorian and a baby probably would give Chaol a heart attack but she’ll embody her role as the cool aunt, and Dorian can more than handle the cool uncle.

“Do you not want your child to be cool?” She knows he’s barely finding her funny at this point but she’s missed him and she loves winding him up.

He’s saved from having to respond by the arrival of their food. She stares longingly at his burger and greasy side of fries and forces herself to take a mouthful of her wilted salad.

After a few bites she notices his expression, something pinched around the corners of his mouth, and she knows there's something he wants to say.

To say that Chaol is less invested in her sobriety than Aedion and Lysandra would be a lie, but he doesn’t question it as openly as they do, so she doubts what he wants to say is anything to do with that. She’s ordered an orange juice to spice it up, and he has a tap water that he ordered without question so she thinks he mustn’t be concerned.

“What?” She says slowly, whatever it is she wants to know, and the pain of waiting for him to spit it out was almost too much.

He shakes his head and pops another fry into his mouth. She can’t resist stealing one and a swipe of ketchup off his plate.

He begins carefully, after using his napkin to dab at the corner of his mouth. “How is it going? You read the script pretty early on, do you think…”

He trails off, and seems to pause while he considers his words, but she doesn’t need him to finish.

“Chaol, I think it’s going really well,” she says and it’s sincere. “And it’s not just because I’m in it.”

It’s far easier to crack jokes and reassure others than it is to be the one being reassured.

He shoots her an unimpressed look, but she knows her words have done their job. Even through her faults she knows he trusts her judgement.

“I feel like you asked that in a way that meant you thought it wasn’t going well.”

She’s fishing a little, but Chaol is a gossip at heart, even worse than Dorian despite how he’d deny it.

He sees right through her, but relents as he takes another bite of his burger. She stabs another bundle of lettuce, dipping it in a pool of dressing resting in the bottom of her bowl as he swallows and speaks.

“I didn’t think it would go badly, but Fenrys Moonbeam has a bit of a reputation, and I just hope he’s taking it seriously. I put a lot of work into it.” He pauses and Aelin just waits. It doesn’t seem like he’s quite done. “Rowan Whitethorn too. But I think his reputation is a bit different.”

It puts her in a bit of a weird position with a sharp taste in her mouth, wanting to defend her new friends to one of her oldest, but Chaol has to understand that how he sees them isn’t right.

“I don’t think either of them is quite how you think.” She says it gently because she doesn’t want to risk irritating Chaol with this. “Fenrys works really hard, you know. He’s putting a lot of work into understanding Rhys, Rowan too. He puts a lot of thought into what he does, he’s really smart.”

He’s watching her silently, his eyes shining with a question she doesn’t want to answer.

“You’ve written an incredible story Chaol, we all want to do it justice.”

The quirk of his eyebrow is somewhat impressed as he takes her in, but maybe there’s something more in there. Something that catches the difference between the way she talks about Fenrys compared to the way she talks about Rowan.

“I’m glad,” is all he says.

“It’s going well,” she says and truly believes it. “I’ve said it before, but it really is a work of art, Chaol.”

She pauses, her next words thick in her throat. “Thank you… for writing it, I mean. It means a lot to me, and I am honoured to play this part.”

He nods thankfully, and she knows he appreciates the compliment but his response is typical Chaol. Quiet and understated but shining with sincerity.

There’s a moment before the corner of his mouth pulls upwards and she knows he’s just about to turn the game around and tease her now.

“A part of me wishes I hadn’t written so many intimate scenes between them, the thought of you and Fenrys Moonbeam…” He trails off.

She tugs her lips inwards between her teeth, pleading with the blush on her neck not to rise. They haven’t got to those scenes yet, and she’s been avoiding the idea of them. She doesn’t want to think about what she’ll have to do with Fenrys in a couple of weeks.

Fenrys isn’t the problem though, she knows he’ll be professional and respectful. The problem is that Rowan will be there, watching them, watching her, and the idea plays with her in a dangerous way. Everything about Rowan feels dangerous to her, and gods if that isn’t half the draw.

“I know we joked before, but you do know you’re not my father? You’re worse than Aedion,” she laughs.

Chaol just shakes his head, “I’m allowed to look out for you.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but you’re only, what? Five years older than me?”

“Six. And Rowan Whitethorn is older than me.” The way he says it is noticeable, like he has a point to make.

“He is?”

So she didn’t know that, but it worries her how it doesn’t change things even a little bit. It doesn’t change how attractive he is, or the fact that she should be going nowhere near the idea of the two of them. She needs to call Elide, or her actual therapist.

“Yes, I think he was in the year above me at the Royal.”

She really doesn’t know all that much about him, hadn’t even known he went to the stage school in Adarlan.

What she knows is the fleeting moments she sees of him behind the camera, the expressions he makes when he’s impressed and when he’s not. She knows things like his coffee order, his hatred for the little pastries the catering department provide and how he doesn’t seem to drink alcohol. She knows about Lyria, but it’s from the internet, not him.

She doesn’t know him.

“Oh,” is all she manages.

Chaol eats another fry, watching her the whole time, and she wants him to look away. She has nothing to feel guilty about; they haven’t done anything. She has one, probably inadvisable, crush on her boss that she’ll speak to Elide about and get over. Then the movie will be done and she won’t ever have to see him again.

The dropping sensation in her stomach at the thought is less than desirable.

Chaol stays for a few days. He hangs around on set and sits in her chair while she films. It’s a pleasant kind of relief, tinged with an element of nostalgia, to have him around. He makes her feel like a kid again, and she feels herself looking towards him for approval when she desperately avoids how she wants to do the same to Rowan.

He relents on the second day, after having met Fenrys and Rowan properly, and admits to her that he thinks his baby is probably in good hands. She just says “I told you so,” because she’s a child and annoying Chaol is fun.

She’s sitting in Manon’s chair next to him, and they’re talking about Aedion. He and Chaol have a friendship she likes to pretend doesn’t stem from a mutual concern for her. Chaol is saying something about how he doesn’t envy Aedion’s schedule, but she’s barely listening.

Aelin’s watching where Rowan stands a few feet away. He’s wearing a soft-looking black sweatshirt and jeans, and she can’t help but imagine how it would feel to slip the sweatshirt on herself. How it would still be warm from his body, how the sleeves would trail way past her fingertips, how the smell of him would surround her.

He’s directing Manon, gesturing jaggedly with his hands and she’s nodding along. The shades of their hair almost match, Aelin notices absently, but she prefers the silver shine to Rowan’s compared to the clean-white of Manon’s. Rowan makes a gesture with his right hand and his fingers flex in a rhythmic movement, the elegant lengths of his fingers flowing freely in motion.

She wants to take that hand and put it on herself, she wants to run it down her side and between her thighs. She wants to take his fingers into her mouth and suck.

And like, what the fuck Aelin?

Texting Rowan is, objectively, a bad idea. Not that it’s a bad idea to text a colleague and ask to hang out, it’s just that that isn’t exactly what she wants to get from texting him. So yes; it’s a bad idea, and Aelin knows this, but she’s been thinking of doing it for a couple of days and the desire to do so hasn’t faded. She’s thought about it for long enough that she’s rationalised it, it’s not rash.

Aelin wants to know Rowan.

She taps away at her screen, hi rowan… No. That's not right. Aelin deletes it.

Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to… Nope. Not right either. She bites her lip while she backspaces the string of letters.

She wants to seem casual, so if he’s not into it it’s not awkward. Aelin’s a feminist, but she still doesn’t want to outright ask him out until she’s tested the waters a little more, got a bit of a better read on him and whether he could be into it or not.

She thinks he is, at least a little bit. She knows his eyes linger on her sometimes, sometimes her face, sometimes her arse. She likes it, but whether all he feels is attraction, or whether he feels the same as her is a mystery.

She still hasn’t spoken to Elide about it, but there’s a devil on her shoulder whispering that she’s probably past the point of no return already.

i’m sick of takeout, she types. want to go and grab a bite somewhere???

Aelin taps send before she can overthink it. She can always invite Fenrys to come along too if Rowan doesn’t seem keen on doing something just the two of us.

It’s not long before her phone buzzes with a response. You’re sick of takeout, so you want to go and eat out?

She chews the inside of her cheek, his response doesn’t really give her much. And while it’s not a rejection, it’s not a yes. Maybe her text was stupid, gods, why didn’t she think-

Her phone buzzes again. How about I cook something instead?

Much better. She smiles as she writes her response.

i don’t really want food poisoning :/// my boss might be a bit pissed if i can’t work

The bubble with the three dots pops up immediately, and her thumbs hover over the screen as she waits.

Ha. Ha. He sends, and she can’t fight the little laugh that escapes her as she imagines him rolling his eyes at her. His next text comes through pretty quickly. I’m on board with going out if you want, just thought something more private could be better.

And shit. There are a number of ways she could interpret that. Aelin’s trying not to read into things, things like Rowan saying he wants to go somewhere private with her, he could just be talking about paparazzi. Damn, he probably is just talking about paparazzi.

oh yeah sounds good actually but pls don’t poison me

He just sends a straight faced emoji.

Aelin leans back into her couch as he sends another follow up text.

Do you want to come here?

She could, but he hosted last time. And while she liked the atmosphere at Rowan’s house, she can’t deny that she likes the idea of him here. She likes the idea of seeing Rowan making his way around her kitchen, likes the idea of Rowan sitting opposite her at the end of this couch.

or you could come here????

She bites the corner of her nail as she stares at her screen, waiting for his response to come through.

Sure. I’ll swing by the store to grab some ingredients. How many people am I cooking for?

Aelin pauses, her thumbs hovering above the keyboard.

was thinking 2 but i can invite others if you want

She thinks that’s pretty clear, but it also puts the ball in his court. She’s the most nervous she’s been so far as she waits for his reply, and the three dots pop up before disappearing again. They pop up again, before finally his message comes through.

Don’t. His text reads. I’ll pick up enough for two.

His response is pretty clear too, and she smiles as she sends three thumbs up emojis.

Her apartment isn’t dirty, or even messy, but once she’s locked her phone she’s up and full of nervous energy. It’s probably presumptuous to make sure her bed is made, but she does it anyway. She leaves the leggings and oversized sweater she wears on, it’s casual, she’s chilled out. Or she can at least pretend to be.

She’s doing her last round of the apartment, keeping her eyes peeled for any stray socks or underwear that she could have left anywhere. A blush threatens her cheeks at the thought of Rowan and her underwear, but she forces it down when there’s a sharp knock at the door.

She swings the door open and there he is.

He looks good, as always, but today it’s highlighted by the deep green military-style jacket he has thrown on over his plain white t-shirt. The tan of his skin always looks good against bright white, and the green of his jacket draws out the depths of his green eyes.

“Hey,” she breathes as their eyes meet.

He smiles, a slightly crooked thing, and he just looks even more attractive. “Hey.”

He’s carrying a brown paper bag pressed against his side in his left hand, and she reaches out to take it from him as she steps aside to let him in. He steps in, but resists her grab for the bag, instead wrapping his right arm around her waist to pull her into a brief hug. “Thanks for having me.”

His words take her back to the first time she visited his house. The time with Fenrys and Manon and the football game. The visit with her and Rowan in his kitchen.

She’s nowhere near as stiff with him as she was then and she lets herself relax into the hug.

“I only let you in on the promise of food,” she says into his chest and feels more than hears his reluctant snort of laughter.

Every time they touch she’s struck by how much she likes it. How much she wants more. But then he pulls back, twisting to push her door shut.

“I feel like I should let you know now before we go any further that I can’t cook.”

Rowan only raises a brow.

“Seriously, when I was in college I set off the fire alarm in my residence at least three times.”

“Three times?” His eyes widen in playful disbelief. “What were you making?”

“Well,” she laughs. “The first time I was trying to make Lysandra a birthday cake but then I got distracted and left it in the oven for three hours. The fire department got called but it was not that big of a deal, there wasn’t a fire.”

There’s laughter dancing in his clear green eyes as she regales her tale of youth. She practically beams at the knowledge that she has put it there.

“But our kitchen did smell like smoke for the rest of the year.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re bad at cooking.” Rowan tilts his head down at her and she realises they’re still standing in her entryway. “That sounds like you don’t pay attention.”

Aelin shrugs at his teasing. “The third time was the worst. I was trying to do that thing where you put vodka in pasta sauce.”

“Gods,” Rowan’s laughing now and she loves the low rumble of the sounds. It pricks the hairs on her arm as the sound washes over her skin.

“There were some flames,” she confesses and he winces.

She didn’t have a completely normal college experience, she was acting part time in very minor roles during her time there but she managed to make some memories in her short time there. After Sam she dropped out and the memories always leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

Talking about this with Rowan and laughing at her silly little anecdotes is one of the first times it hasn’t hurt.

“Sucks to be an actor,” he says mockingly with a nod into her apartment as she finally leads him into the kitchen. The apartment she’s staying in is fine, more than fine, it’s actually a really great apartment and she tries to fake a frown through her smile.

Aelin shrugs. “We can’t all be big, household-name directors, living in glamorous mansions, too famous to go out to eat.”

She shoots him an amused look, and Rowan just smirks, tilting his head to the side in a way that exposes the length of his throat.

So maybe this was a fucking dangerous idea.

Inviting Rowan to her apartment had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he’s here, now he’s in her space, looking all… damn him, he looks so fucking good she feels flushed.

She used to think brunettes were her type, Chaol and Sam were both brunette, with tanned skin and brown eyes. Recently though, as much as she wants to resist it, her type has pretty much become Rowan.

Rowan with his silver hair, and green eyes. His low voice with it’s lilting accent from across the sea. His skin is tanned too, but she knows it comes from spending hours outside rather than genetics.

She hasn’t thought seriously about another man since they started filming, or more likely since the moment they met in the hallway.

And if she allows herself to admit it, probably a lot earlier than that.

She shakes herself as he watches her.

Rowan smirks at her as he places the bag on the counter. “We’ll have to try not to set this kitchen on fire.”

She’s perched atop her counter, with one knee crossed over the other, as she watches Rowan unpack the items from the bag. He’s shucked off the jacket by now, and the t-shirt he wears gives her uninterrupted access to the image of his toned arms and the tattoo that swirls down his left side.

She realises a moment too late that he’s asked her a question.

“What?”

She can tell Rowan knows why she didn’t respond, she just hopes it’s not too much for him. From the smirk he wears she thinks maybe not.

“I’m trying to teach you a valuable skill, it may help to pay attention.” She flips him off and revels in the dark flash of a smile he offers. “I asked if you have a frying pan.”

Aelin pulls a face, she hasn’t done a lot of cooking here past the basics like pasta and soup. Her microwave has been a trusty companion.

“I don’t know.” She waves a hand to the cupboards that line the side of the room. “Have a look in there.”

He gives her a look that tells her he’s deciding whether or not he likes her giving him orders, but then he turns to rummage through her cupboards before returning triumphant and waving the silver frying pan in her face.

“So, what are you making for me?” she asks as he finds a chopping board and unloads the hoard of vegetables he brought with himself.

“Veggie burgers,” he states simply, and she knows she pulls a face because he laughs. “Before you complain, they’re good for you. And they’re tasty.”

She still wrinkles her nose at him, unconvinced.

He cocks his head as he pauses his rhythmic chopping of the leafy green vegetable he has on the board. She’s trying desperately hard to make eye contact and not just stare at the motion of his hands, and his arms, and the ink swirling down his skin.

“Didn’t I promise not to poison you? Do you not trust me to take care of you?” Aelin doesn’t think she’s reading into things to hear the flirty tone to his voice.

“I’ll let you know after I’ve tried the burger.”

Rowan shakes his head at her, the ghost of a smile floating across his face as he resumes his chopping. “Ye of little faith.”

Aelin just shrugs, making a show of being sceptical by turning her nose.

“You could always help,” Rowan comments. “Or do you regularly invite guests around expecting them to make you a meal?”

“Tell me what to do, chef.” Aelin holds her hands out, ready for instruction. “I am yours to instruct.”

Rowan nods and reaches back into the bag and pulls out a can, he turns to find a bowl and a fork and places them in front of her. She’s impressed that in under half an hour he knows his way around her kitchen far better than she does.

“Mash these,” he says.

Her disgust isn’t pretend this time and her lip curls. “Mash these beans?”

Rowan nods.

“Mash them?”

“Yes, you do know what that means don’t you?”

Aelin hits him with the fork on the bicep and he laughs again, the sound smooth and rich in her stomach. “Shut up. You’re not convincing me this is going to taste good.”

Even so, she opens the can and is about to tip them into the bowl when Rowan grabs her hand. His fingers are warm and solid where they wrap around her own, and she snaps her eyes to his face at the contact.

“Rinse them first. You warned me and yet I still overestimated your ability in the kitchen.”

He’s smiling slightly, exposing the whites of his teeth, and he’s so close to her face. They’re almost level where she sits on the counter and Aelin swallows. His eyes are bright as he looks at her and she feels her smile grow involuntarily. Something flickers across his face before he clears his throat and steps back letting go of her hand. She misses his touch immediately after it’s gone.

Aelin slides off the bench and turns towards the sink to compose herself, she rinses the beans under the tap and Rowan stays silent while she does.

She turns back and tips them into the bowl and begins to mash as Rowan grates a carrot. Aelin really didn’t know her flat even came with these things.

“This is actually fucking disgusting.”

She’s managed to turn the bean mixture into a grey-ish mush. There’s no way this can taste good, she’s going to struggle even putting it in her mouth without retching.

Rowan snorts. “It’s good for you.”

Aelin wrinkles her nose again, but keeps going. It speaks volumes that she’s willing to trust Rowan on this.

It feels weirdly domestic to be here with him in her kitchen, and they move with an easy kind of synchrony. He adds his chopped vegetables to the bowl and she mixes them together as he readies the pan.

“Up for getting your hands dirty?” Rowan asks her once he’s done, and hell if Aelin doesn’t read far too much into that. The answer is yes.

“Always.” Sue her if she makes sure to look up at him through her lashes, and to bend forwards towards him as she rests her forearms on the kitchen counter.

“Grab a handful of the mixture,” He points to the contents of the bowl. “And shape it into a round patty.”

Aelin goes to put her hand tentatively into the bowl, it’s now a grey-ish mush with flecks of orange and green and she’s dreading it getting under her nails.

“Wait,” Rowan says, and he reaches out to roll the sleeves of her sweater up. It’s such a sweet gesture that it kind of takes her by surprise. The gentleness with which he holds her wrist as he rolls the fabric is nice, and she finds herself watching his face as he does it.

His brows pull together, in an expression she assumes is concentration, as he makes the careful motions. He looks good, she notes, not for the first time.

His thumbs and index fingers move down to squeeze the junction where her wrists meet her hands as he finishes and says, “there you go.”

“Thanks,” she breathes.

Aelin turns back to the bowl, attempting to somehow calm her heart. Rowan really needs to stop touching her if she wants to get over whatever this is. But now that he’s here, and he’s looking at her the way he is, and specifying that he wants to spend time with her, just the two of them…

It’s the first time she allows herself to consider that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t something that’s only dangerous. She finally allows herself to consider the idea that this could be fun, this could be something she could really enjoy. And here, in her apartment just the two of them, he doesn’t have to be her boss. He’s just Rowan and she’s just Aelin.

She really likes that thought.

Rowan clicks the pan on, and the sound startles her out of her head. Aelin hesitates before finally plunging her fingers into the mush and gods, she has some faith in Rowan if she’s going to even consider eating this.

It’s gross, but she manages to shape it into two round patties, and she places them into the pan when Rowan instructs.

Aelin washes her hands as Rowan pays attention to the burgers, and she retakes her seat on the counter after sorting out their plates and condiments. She might not be a great cook, but she can be a good host.

She watches him flip them a couple of times, taking the opportunity to ogle without risk of being caught staring. He has strong arms, and the tattoo snaking down his left makes her mouth water with every flex of his muscles. He has wide hands with long, almost elegant fingers that she wants to link through her own. Aelin is reminded, as he lifts the pan, of the thought she had the other day when he was directing Manon.

It wasn’t the first time she had considered Rowan in a sexual way, but it was the most direct, and she’s not complaining, but sometimes it makes it a little difficult to concentrate in his presence.

Finally, he switches the heat off and turns to place the patties in their buns. Aelin has to admit they look a little better now that they’re cooked, but she’s still not convinced.

He presents her with the plate, wearing a bashful little smile, and she’s taken by how adorable she finds it. He’s actually nervous to hear what she thinks.

She slathers it in ketchup, hoping to make it somewhat palatable and lifts it to her lips, about to take a bite when he speaks.

“We’re eating here?”

Aelin pauses, putting the burger back on her plate. “Where else would we eat?”

Rowan shrugs, still holding his own plate. He doesn’t put any ketchup on his and she’s trying not to be disgusted. She taps the bench next to herself, and Rowan seems to deliberate for a moment before finally hopping up at her side. He towers over her again now that they’re on an even playing field and she likes it. She likes how much bigger he is than her, and likes it even more how she still feels safe with him.

“Okay, now go,” he says, still apprehensive of her reaction, and Aelin makes a big deal of taking a deep breath before her first bite.

She chews it all silently before swallowing, working to keep her expression neutral, and Rowan doesn’t look away from her face the whole time. She purses her lips afterwards, and waits for him to speak.

“So?”

“It’s not terrible,” she admits with a small smile creeping up the sides of her mouth.

Rowan quickly takes his own bite, and she watches the way his fingers dwarf the same bun that fills her hands. He hums his own pleasure.

“Not terrible,” he repeats. “Admit it, it’s good.”

She flips a strand of hair over her shoulder before she takes another bite. She was sceptical -- more than -- when it was still a mush, but she has to admit it’s tasty, and very Rowan. She doesn’t know for sure he’s a health nut, but based on the parts of his body that she’s seen and his distaste for all things sweet, she can guess.

“Maybe,” is all she says before taking another bite. He watches her with a smug smile, one she desperately wants to get rid of. It isn’t helpful that the way she wants to do so is by kissing him.

“Oh!” She jumps down from the counter, throwing her plate to the side, suddenly reminded. “You know what I have that would go perfectly with this?”

She grabs two glasses out of the cupboard and sets them down on the bench in between where she’s been sitting and Rowan. Aelin turns to the fridge before pulling out the small bottle.

Rowan groans, and she tucks the sound to the back of her mind. “Aelin,” he starts. “I don’t want any of that.”

“Come on,” she cries. “A milkshake is an essential with a burger and this is the best I have to offer. If I’d thought ahead I could have at least found a bottle of wine to go with the dinner you cooked for me.”

She’s not entirely sure why she said it, especially when she’s pretty sure she’s deduced that he doesn’t drink, and the reason for it, but it feels like an automatic apology that just slips off her tongue whenever she’s in a setting where alcohol could be a presumption.

Rowan’s expression locks down at her comment and she immediately regrets it.

“Um-” she starts but Rowan clears his throat.

“It’s okay,” he says slowly, avoiding her gaze, “I don’t drink.”

“Oh,” Aelin all but whispers, and it surprises her when Rowan lets out a dark huff of laughter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m guessing you know why.”

His voice has a somewhat bitter edge to it that she hates.

“I wasn’t-”

She stops when he finally looks up at her and she sees his expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says again quickly and he only shakes his head and pats the counter at his side.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes her retake her seat at his side and pick her burger back up, taking a bite as he takes a breath.

“It’s not something that usually falls into casual dinner conversation.”

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

It’s something she isn’t sure she realised the importance of at first. The offer of whether to share or not. She fights a desperate war inside of herself every time conversations head down a lane like this. The desire to scream her story from the rooftops squaring off against the desperation to remain closed up where no one will ever know what bubbles just below the surface.

Usually privacy wins. Usually she swallows those words down and stays quiet, keeping this reel of pain and loss and tragedy buried deep within, but here with Rowan, tucked away in the kitchen of her temporary home, the words don’t feel so daunting.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s often something that makes other people feel uncomfortable. They pity the guy with the dead fiancée”—Aelin blinks past the way his voice wavers—“but they don’t want to actually hear about it. I’ll spare you the gorey details but after that I couldn’t bring a drink to my lips again. I’ve never so much as considered it — never wanted to.”

There’s an ache beginning in her chest, and she puts her burger back down on her plate. Rowan hasn’t touched his since his first few bites. She desperately wants to comfort him, wants to place a hand on his shoulder and take the pain away any way she can, but she knows from experience that it can’t be done.

This kind of pain, this grief, is something that can’t be taken away. She lives with her grief and her guilt after Sam every day of her life, and she thinks she will forever. No matter how many therapy sessions she goes to, no matter how many days and weeks and months pass, Sam will always be a part of her. Scrawled across her heart in his messy penmanship.

“I understand,” she says quietly. “More than you’d think.”

This is the moment where she could probably finish, where she could twist the conversation back to Rowan and pat his shoulder sympathetically, or where she could tug it to somewhere new and safe.

But she doesn’t often get opportunities like this, in the dim light and the quiet of her flat where the only other sound is the noise coming from the hood above her cooker. She doesn’t often get to talk about this with someone who truly understands.

All of her friends tried in the months after Sam, and gods bless them they still do, but none of them were as close to Sam as she was. They were upset for Aelin and her loss, not at the loss of Sam. And Rowan, who sits next to her staring at the floor, she thinks he could understand.

His gaze lifts from the floor to meet hers as she begins to speak.

“His name was Sam,” she says and Rowan nods.

“I know.”

Aelin feels her breath leave her chest in a whoosh.

“I saw some of the headlines at the time, Aelin I’m so sorry.”

Her jaw works as she tries to find the words, any words, to respond to that. But she’s shaken. She didn’t think anyone knew, or even noticed, outside of her immediate circle. But then she thinks back to the dinner they shared, the way his gaze had burned into her when the conversation had turned to her break. He knows — he has known — and he gets it.

She shakes her head, composing herself enough to speak. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His lips twist as she repeats his words back to him.

She doesn’t mean to say, “I knew about Lyria too,” but Rowan just nods, breaking their gaze to stare down at where their hands lie beside each other with an expression she can’t read.

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, for any number of reasons, but she reaches out to twine their fingers together atop the marble of her countertop. His fingers are rough and calloused between her own but the thumb he rubs against the back of her hand is gentle and reassuring.

He doesn’t speak, but there isn’t anything Aelin feels the need to say. It’s a kindred kind of silence, one borne of more pain than either of them could bear to speak aloud, and there’s an awful feeling of comfort in it. She knows he’s thinking of Lyria the way she’s thinking of Sam. But there is a part of her mind, a part that’s like a rising sun creeping above the horizon to break the shadow of night, that’s thinking of Rowan too.

Eventually she picks her burger back up again, it’s cold now but she can reluctantly admit it doesn’t taste horrendous. Their fingers stay linked as they each eat single-handedly, building themselves back up to sharing short stories and playful quips.

She’s glad she invited him, her boss or not.

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin au #ndilyd #nobody does it like you do

89 notes · View notes

bidoldaccount · 3 years

Text

Grow As We Go - loose ends

word count: 1,937

tying up loose ends :)

ONE ; TWO ; THREE ; FOUR ; FIVE

Read on AO3

Read on Wattpad

"Dad!" Dean flinched as Jack came sprinting into the garage, out of breath with red cheeks. Dean nearly knocked himself out on the hood of a vintage corvette he was rebuilding.

"Jack!" He attempted to match his enthusiasm but failed as he stood up straight, his back popping.

"Dad said we could go to the aquarium!" He said with a wide smile.

"I said we could go this weekend," Castiel corrected, appering behind Jack with a fond roll of his eyes.

"Why can't we go today?" Jack frowned, blinking up at Cas.

"Jack, you have visitation with your mom today," Castiel pointed out gently, laying his hand on the eleven year olds shoulder. Jack's face fell, he settled his eyes back on Dean with a frown.

"Do I have to go?" He asked.

"It's only for a few hours and Mrs. Talbot will be there the whole time," Dean said, dropping the rag in his hand so he could nudge Jack's chin.

"I'd rather stay home with you," Jack mumbled, turning back to Cas, wrapping his arms around him waist and burying his face in his stomach. Cas pressed his hands to Jack's back and rubbed it softly.

"We know buddy, but it'll be good for you to have a relationship with your mom," Cas said, catching Dean's eye roll and giving him a pointed look while Jack wasn't looking.

"She spends half of our visitation on her phone or talking about her real kids," Jack said.

"Jack, you are her real kid," Dean said.

"No," Jack pulled his face away from Cas' stomach and looked back at Dean. "I'm your kid," he looked up at Cas and repeated, "I'm your kid. I have two dads and no mom, and I like it that way," he said.

"I'm sorry, buddy," Cas smiled tightly, his eyebrows furrowed down with soft sympathy. "Why don't you talk to Mrs. Talbot about it, maybe she'll have some advice for you."

"Whatever," Jack pulled away and stomped back into the house. Castiel sighed heavil, taking the few steps towards Dean until he could wrap his arms around his husbands shoulders.

"I hate sending him to her," he whispered even though Jack had slammed the garage door.

"Me too," Dean shook his head, placing his hands on Castiel's hips, holding his husband close. "But we have no choice. Until our next court date when they let Jack tesifty, we just have to show that we're cooperating. Plus, she's missed three visits and Bela started supervising again because she kept him longer than she was allowed. It doesn't look good and Sam is really confident that they'll give us full custody," Dean said, rubbing his thumbs in comforting circles at Cas' hips.

"Sam's biased," Cas mumbled. "I'm just worried that they'll take the woeful mother bit," he said.

"Let's not think about it, okay? Come on, lets go take Jack out for breakfast before he has to go," Dean leaned in to kiss Castiel's lip, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Okay," Cas sighed, reeling in his emotions before they went inside.

They go to court two months later, on a rainy tuesday afternoon. Jack wears a button up that Castiel had ironed with trembling hands. Kayla shows up with her mother, who had actually been very adamant that she had no knowledge of Jack's existence and wanted to be present in his life. She was very reassuring from the beginning that she wouldn't dare fight them for custody because of what good parents they seem to be.

Kayla had smirked their way and they avoided her gaze at all costs. The judge allowed Jack to testify and the boy did so with a calm, even voice. He read from a piece of paper that he spent three weeks perfecting.

"When I was nine years old, I asked my dad, Castiel, why I didn't have a mother like some of my other friends had. He explained to me that when I was a baby, my mother was not ready to have a baby, so she gave me to my dad, Dean. He told me that it wasn't my fault that I didn't have a mother, and it wasn't her fault either, it was just the way life worked out sometimes. When my mother, Kayla, came back, a part of me was excited, because if like happened the way it does for a reason, then maybe I would be lucky enough to have two dads plus a mom. I never thought that I would be sitting here, fighting to stay with my parents. That is what they are. Dean and cas are my dads, that's what they have always been. Kayla has never been my mom, and she hasn't acted like one up to this point. She speaks poorly of my dads, even though I've told her that it makes me upset, she makes homophobic remarks, she took me to a mans house that she claimed was her boyfriend and I sat in a stuffy living room for two hours while she spent time in the bedroom with him," Castiel had to squeeze Dean's hand hand so he wouldn't be tempted to jump out of his seat. Deans jaw nearly popped with how hard he pressed his teeth together.

"I sent picture to my caseworker, Mrs. Talbot," Jack smiled proudly as Bela passed around the evidence. Kaylas eyes had widened and her attorney had objected. Cas stared wide eyed as their attorney assured Kaylas that the new evidence was submitted well before court started. Dean smiled proudly at Jack, and the boy beamed.

"I'd like to say one more thing if I may?" Jack asked the judge, the man gesturing for him to continue, his face was steel but his eyes were soft. Jack smiled at him, then looked towards his parents. "For what it's worth, you'll never meet better parents than my dads. I could list a hundred things that makes them amazing parents, but all I really have to say, is I have never once questioned their love for me. I might be young, but I know what love, and support, and stability means, because I have really good dads. I won't get that with Kayla, and I'd much rather stay in my loving home. Thank you," Jack nodded his head once and threw a questioning look at Bela. She nodded for him to get off of the stand and he did so quickly. He ran across the courtroom and threw his arms around both Dean and Cas' shoulders. They hugged him back tightly, both of them trying to hold back tears.

When the judge awarded them full custody, they cried. They cried right there in the middle of the court room until their attorney guided them out. Sam and his wife, Eileen, and kaylas mother, Judy, met them outside of the courtroom and they took turns hugging Jack.

"Dad, look!" Jack held up a new pair of drumsticks, and Dean looked at Sam with a sarcastically wide smile.

"Jee, Sam, how nice of you," he said through gritted teeth. Sam smiled innocently, then pretended like someone called him. Dean rolled his eyes and looked back to Jack as he opened another Christmas present. He couldn't lie, the sixteen year old was surprisingly good at the drums, Dean likes to take credit for it because of all the classic rock he played when Jack was a kid.

"Daddy, look what grandma Judy bought for me!" Dean looked down at Claire, five years old with the biggest smile on her face as she stood beside a giant box that contained a Princess vanity.

"Oh my, Judy!" Dean looked up at the woman with wide eyes.

"Hush, they're my grandkids, you got to let me spoil them," she said as she passed him. He smiled fondly, watching her plop herself onto the recliner that she always occupies when she visits. One of Dean's favorite outcome from Kayla popping up five year old, is Judy. Once the woman found out about Jack, she'd been a prominent figure in his life. Then they adopted Claire, at two years old after her parents died in a plane crash, and she treated Claire as if she were her blood.

Dean left Judy and the kids in the living room once all of the presents were opened, and he stopped Cas from leaving the kitchen when he tried to pass Dean. Cas gave him a questioning look, but Dean hushed him and guided him into the garage.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked with a small laugh.

"I have one more present for you, but I wanted to give it to you in private, mostly because it's really fucking cheesy," he explained as he walked to his toolbox. He pulled out a square shaped present, wrapped in newspaper because Dean is simple like that. He handed it to cas with red cheeks and stood back with his arms crossed as Cas eyed it. He had a soft smile on his face as he unwrapped it and his cautious smile turned to soft awe as the newspaper fell.

"It's stupid and cheesy but I thought you'd like it," Dean shrugged as Cas started flipping through the photo album Dean put together. It went in order of the years. The first few pages were in their shitty one bedroom apartment, early years of their first dates, the first night Castiel stayed over, and Cas' pride week outfits. Then Jack appeared, laying on Castiel's chest fast asleep, cas smiling wide as his hands hovered over where Jack was taking his first steps, first days of school, arts and crafts gone wrong when everything got covered in glitter, the first time Sam met Jack. Then it was middle childhood, soccer games and school plays, their wedding, in front of the courthouse when they won full custody. Then high school, the first time they took Jack to Pride, that time Cas broke his leg and they mistakingly gave him a bell to ring when he needed them, adopting Claire. Family trips, small moments, days spent at the park, random little things that made their life so worth living, they were all interspersed in there. Some of the notes that Dean kept from the lunches Castiel packed him, pictures the kids drew, notes Dean left for Cas on days he woke up first, copies of their wedding vows. They were all in there. Cas was crying when he finally finished flipping through, and he couldn't speak, so he threw his arms around deans shoulders and cried softly into his husbands neck.

"I take it you hate it?" Dean teased, even though his heart has never felt lighter.

"I love it, you asshole," Cas said, voice shaky. Dean chuckled, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist, holding him tightly. "I love it so much, and I love you," cas pulled his head back so he could press his lips to Dean's, kissing him hard and passionately.

"I love you too, Cas," Dean whispered between breathless kisses. Castiel sniffled as he pulled away, holding the photo album tightly against his chest.

"Let's go inside, I can feel Claire bargaining with Judy for another slice of pie," Castiel laughed softly to cover up how much he wanted to cry out of pure joy.

"Just let me kiss you for a little longer," Dean said, holding his hips close. Cas smiled, settling into Dean's arms and allowing himself to stand there, in the garage that Dean built, with their family safe and happy inside, and kiss his husband.

#Dean winchester #castiel winchester #destiel #destiel fluff #destiel fanfic #deancas #destiel au #modern setting #jack winchester #jack kline #claire novak #claire winchester

9 notes · View notes

pixie88 · 3 years

Text

A Shoulder to Cry on

Chapter 17 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: This one is very Angsty I hope I haven’t over done it. Mentions of drug abuse. Sorry to be clogging up you tag notes with A&E - Alone chapter today and ATB today! I hope you like it.

Only tagging those who have asked. I hate to annoy people with tags.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 2103

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

His house was the closest to Rem's but him bring the brother closest to her age, they had always gotten on better than the older two. Harry was at work with back to back sessions, she didn't want to bother him. He answers the door "Lai?" Her eyes are swollen and red "Lai, what's a matter?" He pulls her in for a hug "Nate, I thought I was doing the right thing!" She sobs.

"Hey! It's OK! Come on, let's get you off the doorstep. I'll make us a tea and you can tell me what is going on!" She follows him to the kitchen "Are the kids here?" She wipes the tears from her face, "No, Zeppy has gone to Vicky" he rolls his eyes at the mention of her name "And Jade has taken the boys swimming" he calls back as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A few minutes later he comes in with 2 cuppas "There you go! I can't remember if you take sugar or not"

"That'll do fine!" She smiles as he hands her the mug "So, what has upset ya?" She sighs not wanting to talk about it, but that's why she's here "It's Rem...he probably hates me. Alene has been in contact with Melissa and she wants to build bridges with Rem. I went round just now to have a word with him and he got angry and kicked me out" she sobs.

Nate rubs her back and hands her a tissue "Oh Lai! I'm sure he didn't mean it! It's just a sore subject for him, you know this more than anyone. Once he calms down, he'll realise he shouldn't have taken it out on you" Laila wipes her tears and takes a deep breath.

"I get why he is upset, I do...." Laila's phone starts to ring, she didn't want to speak to anyone right now other than Nate, so she ignored the call, a few seconds later her phone PINGS "You should get that maybe it's Rem?" she huffs pulling out her phone Harry's name appears across the screen.

"It's Harry, Alec has told him about what happened with Rem. Looks like he tried to call me too. I'll give him a call back in bit" she puts her phone away "I think Rems will be fine once he cools off. You've got to also think it's a big thing! Here he is building this new life with Alec and suddenly the past comes rolling in" She feels a little better after talking to Nate.

"So, Zeppy has gone to see her Mum?" Nate rolls his eyes "Yeah, not much I can do able that now she's 18" Nate just shook his head, he always worries when Zeppy is visiting Vic as she always comes home with an attitude.

15 Years ago

Zeppy and Vicky's mother and daughter relationship has always been up and down, but more downs than ups. When Zeppy was 3 Nate went to pick up Zeppy as usual, she would spend weekends with him, he knocked on the door and got no answer.

He knocked a few more times again, still no answer, as he opened the flap of the letter box he could see straight into the kitchen where Zeppy was turning the dials on the gas cooker hob.

That's when the smell of gas hit him, he calls out to Zeppy to stop and open the front door.

After Zeppy unlock the door he rushed his daughter out the house and into his car before going back inside to turn off the gas and in search of Vicky but there was no sign of her in the house. Zeppy's bag was packed near the front door, he picked it up and left the house.

30 minutes later a frantic Vicky calls him, after the 5th call he finally answers "PLEASE TELL ME, YOU HAVE HER NATHAN!!???" still angry she had left their 3 year old daughter in the house by herself, he decides to be cruel "Have who?" he calmly asks "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHO?? OUR DAUGHTER!!?" she screams down the phone at him.

"No, I'm running late. I did call to tell you" this was a lie he had called her after he found she had left Zeppy at home alone. "NATHAN! SHE'S GONE!!" she's sobbing on the other end of the phone "How?" he asked, hoping she won't lie like she has on other occasions. Like when Zeppy had used Vicky's phone to call him because Vicky had collapsed. When he got there she lied saying she had the flu, but he knew better the reason why she collapsed was the same reason they split - Drugs.

"She was in the shops with me....I turned away for a second and she was gone" this was the last straw for him. She had flat out lied to him, on the way to his, he asked Zeppy where Vicky was she told him that she had left with Scott (One of her druggie friends) and told her not to answer the door to anyone leaving her there.

"Good job she's safe then! I have her, I was early, but thank fuck I was! Vic, she was playing with the gas cooker! What the earth possessed you to leave our 3 year old daughter by herself?" Vicky knew she had been caught out "Nathan! You scared the shit outta me!" his blood boiled he couldn't even be bother to answer that she clearly couldn't see what she had done was wrong.

With the help of Terry and Liz, he won primary custody of Zeppy before she was 4. When Zeppy started school Nate was a single dad, so Liz would always pick up Zeppy from school as his job at his grandad's Garage was until 5PM. He met Jade on her first shift at the pub, he was covered in oil, but her smile won his heart the first time he saw her.

The next day he came to collect Zeppy he had gone home to change his clothes and shower. Liz looked a little confused when she saw Nate walk through the door clean and smart, but she soon realised why when her eyes followed the direction he was stupidly smiling in. He made the excuse that he and Zeppy would have dinner at the pub that night just so he could stay a little longer. By the end of the night he finally worked up the courage to ask her out....

2 years later.

Jade gave birth to their first son Blake by his first birthday they were married soon followed Isaac and Alfie.

When Jade had gone into labour with Blake, Vicky assumed she would automatically get Zeppy for a few days, but Nate had already planned for Liz and Terry to have her. This broke her heart, so she turned to her only friend and overdosed. Waking up in hospital, she was greeted by Nate stood at the bottom of her bed with a sad Zeppy. She smiled at her daughter as she opened her eyes, but Zeppy didn't return it "Zep? Baby, Aren't you happy to see Mummy?" she asked. Zeppy teared up, "NO!" she shouted back at her before storming off upset.

Vicky looked to Nate "I couldn't keep it a secret from her anymore Vic. She knows how you got here" the look of realizations spreads across her face, "You told her?!" she hissed, he leaned over the end of the bed "Believe it or not...she overheard the doctor. Vic this was supposed to be a happy time, but you went and shat all over it!" he walks off leaving her with nothing, but her tears.

Although Zeppy wasn't biologically Jade's daughter, she treated her exactly the same as the boys, Vicky hated this. Whenever Zeppy would call Jade Mum in front of Vicky on the supervised visits at the contact centres, she would always hiss "She's not your Mum!" Jade would ignore her.

Jade obviously knew what happened with Vicky, but she also understood she was a Mother and how much it must have hard her to hear her daughter call another woman Mum. Much to Nate's disapproval Jade always encouraged Vicky and Zeppy's relationship she even got him to change the fortnightly supervised visits to once a week. If it was left up to Nate, she wouldn't have any contact what so ever.

As far as Vicky was concerned, he thought Zeppy would be better off without her in her life. But Jade would always convince him as much as he doesn't, like her, it has to be Zeppy's decision on whether she kept in contact with her or not and if he took that away from her she would resent him for it. Zeppy kept contact in hope that one day she might have a normal Mum, one that might put her daughter and her health first.

So far that seems a long way off.

Present day

"Probably Vicky talking in her ear, but don't take it to heart, Nate" she smiles her phone rings again. She takes a look at the screen, it's Harry again "You better answer that he'll be worried about you" Nate gets up "I'll make us some lunch and you speak to your boyfriend" Laila answers the phone.

"Hey handsome!"

"Hi my love, Are you OK? Alec called me and told me about Rem's blowing up"

"Yeah, I'm OK! I'm at Nate's just talking about it with him"

"Are you sure you're OK? I can see if I can get Ollie to take on the rest of my PT sessions for today?"

She smiles at his sweetness "I'm fine now....what time do you finish? I'll pick you up in the car?"

"If you're sure? I finish at 4 today"

"Yeah, I'm sure and I'll see you at 4"

"OK 4...I love you!"

"I love you more"

Nate makes a gagging noise at his sister, she laughs as she hangs up "Things going well between you two then?" she rolls her eyes at him "Clearly!" he hands her a sandwich "Cucumber and lots of butter" she laughs, "You used to make me these for my packed lunches at school or if I was ill"

"You loved them, I remember someone telling mum not to make your lunch box because you wanted me to do it!"

"To be fair mum would normally chuck in some Jacobs crackers with butter and grated cheese, that stuff would always go everywhere! Do you make the kids these?"

"Yeah, Zeppy used to love them. Alf, Blake and Isaac still have them if they are having packed lunch"

They heard the front door slam "Jade? Zeppy?" Nate called out soon after he heard footsteps hammer up the stairs before another door slam "Zeppy?!" Laila said as she looked to Nate. He sighed and was about to get up from the sofa to deal with his daughter, but Laila grabbed his arm "Let me!"

He sat back down, leaving Laila to deal with one of Zeppy's mood swings. She knocks on the bedroom door to hear Zeppy yell "Dad, go away!" She knocks again "Zippy, it's me!" She heard her huff followed by footsteps coming closer.

The door swings open, Zeppy's eyes are swollen "Will you stop calling that Aunt Leia!" Laila laughs.

It was 3 months after Nate had found out about Zeppy that Laila first met Zeppy. She could never pronounce her name right, it always came out as Leia, it kinda stuck until she hit her teens and she started calling her Aunt Laila and she asked her to stop calling her Zippy.

"Are you going to let me in to have a chat?" she doesn't respond, she moves away from the door and wanders back into her room leaving the door open. Laila walks into the bedroom Zeppy is slumped on the side of her bed, head down looking at her feet. Laila saw her wiping her eyes, "Zep's, what's wrong?" she sits down next to her, Zeppy turns away from her "Come on, you can tell me!"

"She's using again!" she hisses towards Laila, she pulls Zeppy to her chest and she begins to sob "Am I not enough? I told her after the last time if she used again that's it...I'm cutting her out of my life"

It breaks Laila's heart to see her niece like this.

Why can't she see what an amazing daughter, she has!?

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 18.

@lem-20 @ridgy--didge @secretaryunpaid @irisofpurple @khoicesbyk @txemrn @tea-me-kah @casualpostqueen @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @beautifuluknownvoid

#atb #fictional story #Always The Bridesmaid #Original Work #original writing #original character #original story #pixie 88 #harry x laila

12 notes · View notes

blackfemmecharacterdependency · 3 years

Text

9. I Was in a Gang Once

Simon was a pretty inventive liar. It made her second guess some things. “I’m a writer,” he reminded her when she would be impressed with his ability to fabricate alibis (that they never actually used, because Grace had only been on three Date Nights in the past three months). For Simon, that meant trying to have more frequent reasons to be around her. “Samantha misses you.” “Mom wants you to stop by so that she can treat you to lunch.” “It’s Halloween!” She indulged him her time, mostly because she had plenty of it these days.

Even with the busy work that she threw herself into at the Infinity Foundation, with Xander on the mend and Jalicia on the lamb, Date Nights were going to be slow. She spoke to the children/young adults whose stewards she had yet to catch up with. She still planned to find and deal with any steward who had ever come through the warehouse and harmed one of her friends.

In the meantime, she was once again in the mood to leave the bookstore, because of Simon being a little too… present. The last time that she told him she needed space, he didn’t seem to grasp how crucial it was for him to just leave her alone until she was ready. She knew that if she ever wanted to distance herself from Simon, she would likely need to leave town… That, or Xander would deal with him, and she didn’t believe that Simon required the way Xander dealt with problems. She also didn’t think that Xander needed any additional stress!

Xander wasn’t interested in Simon being involved in their business. Whenever he got out of rehab, Grace had been paying his bills so that he would have HIS home to return to afterwards, on the condition that he wasn’t left alone. It was surprising to her, but Jalicia offered to stay there for a while. She didn’t want to be alone in space that Heath used to fill up so much of, and she believed that if anybody else knew how hard it was without him, it was Xander. So, she moved in as his roommate.

Whenever she wasn’t there, 808 and 1K were available. “This is very unstable,” Xander would say, as he had past relationships with both of them and neither of them were *completely* in his past. He and Alexandria (808) usually hooked back up within days of seeing each other and Sunny… it was complicated.

Xander would say that “Xandria” was his first love. They were together with no adult supervision through puberty and definitely were the ‘it couple’ of the Apex, back in the day.

But… Sunny had been around when Xander started to unravel. Sure, he tried to have her close because she reminded him of Grace (and she reminded everyone of Grace at the time, because her entire personality was being Grace’s pupil/clone).

But, whenever kids were losing faith in Xander as second in command turned leader and the Apex was scattering and 808 had joined another crew. 1K had stayed by his side. “Grace would never leave Xander!” she had been fussing as she tried to help him through his first attempts at quitting/withdrawal.

“Grace HAS left Xander, Sun. Grace is gone, and try as you might, you just aren’t her,” he’d heard Alexandria say through his trembling and panting. So, Alexandria was his first love, but whenever he thought of Sunny, she felt like his true love... But, leave it to Xander, that wasn’t something he could handle taking care of very much.

It was months before he and Alexandria talked again after she left. He was as happy as a street kid who survived on crime and fought an addiction could be. But, seeing her again, it was an addiction of its own. He’d hurt Sunny. She’d broken things off with him, but stayed for the Apex, which now was so scattered… but one day something amazing happened.

Grace came back. She looked very different, but they could immediately tell it was Grace. Sunny had been the most happy, filling her in on everything, and whenever Grace saw Xander, she collected him into her arms and said, “I have a place for all of you to live.”

It was at the Infinity Foundation. There were shelters. Xander had flashbacks to the warehouse, even though this place was nice, clean, fresh… you could see both the staff’s faces and they wore name tags with smiles on them. Sunny whispered to Grace about Xander’s battle over the past couple of years, so he was checked into a rehabilitation program. Sunny had shown Grace all of the turfs where Apex kids had scattered to after she left and Xander began falling.

As many as would come with her did, and the Infinity Foundation was able to help out with so many of their problems. They even formed an Apex Healing group for survivors of the warehouse. Xander settled into a place of his own. Younger kids were given various placements by the state. Some of the kids who weren’t from there had been brought back to their hometowns, some to their parents, some in foster care. Grace made sure that she kept in touch with everyone, just in case they ever needed her to swoop in.

She wasn’t that capable of taking care of herself, and her parents rarely let her go freely. In a way, she had another steward in her social worker, and another in her nurse.

After her year long situation from the court case of assault (which initially had been attempted murder) and being declared mentally unfit, she spent half a year in a mental home and another half with a healthcare worker.

So, when she came back after being missing from the Apex for a year, it was hard for some of the kids to handle. But, those that came with her the first time began coming back for others. Eventually, after maybe a year or so, Grace, Xander, Alexandria, Sunny, Heath, and Jalicia had collected almost all of their living members and gotten them back to the Infinity Foundation.

Some had not survived the years. Some had not survived Grace’s departure. Grace had nightmares every night in the beginning. She would see herself swinging the bat, hear herself grunting with each swing, hear the maniacal laugh that she let out whenever the police grabbed her and one of them said, “I think she’s dead.” She would remember Hazel. She would remember Todd.

Her brain tied the two of them together, even though she never saw them together. But, whenever she saw them dying, it was always that same shredding heat of immeasurable pain. No deaths had bothered her like theirs had. Maybe that was why whenever she saw Todd’s body fall, she saw Hazel’s... every time...

Whenever Todd was little, Grace took care of him. Whenever they fled the warehouse, Grace lost track of him. It took her a few months to find him and he was in the “care” of a steward. She thought about freeing him a few times, but Todd was 4. The logistics of taking him quietly, unnoticed long enough to get out and then being able to keep him safe were… shaky at best. So… She… left him.

He seemed to not even know the difference between where he was - in this abandoned house, and the warehouse. The main difference was that he missed her. She would visit him and bring him food and gifts. She stayed until he finished eating, but every time she came around, gifts would be missing, or he’d have bruises. “Why don’t you just take me with you?” He would wonder, by the time he turned 6.

14 Year old Grace was rising in popularity on the streets and the Apex had become notorious. Todd was… She cringed every time she thought back to her 14 year old self… Todd was a liability. Jalicia at 5 was already hard to handle, and she often had to leave her with Heath - who was only 8 and not at all capable of having 2 kids in his care... and Todd had never been as independent as Jalicia. He would slow them down and quite possibly get them caught. He just had to hang tight. She wouldn’t leave him here. She’d come back for him and he’d be with them. She just needed more time.

16 year old Grace tried to take him in, but he was a little bit hardened, a lot less trusting of her. He clearly still loved her, as he would always be happy to see her and would hug her and kiss her and sometimes even rush off with her. But, he had a good situation where he was and he didn’t seem to believe that he would have a better one with Grace. IF ONLY HE HAD TRUSTED HER… Waited just a little bit longer… If only she had been a better guardian, taken him with her in the first place, or at least whenever she came to find out where he was and that he was alright. If only she hadn’t seen him as a liability before.

By the time he was ready to come with almost 18 year old Grace, his steward was not letting that happen. He found out that Todd was going to try to sneak away to be with Grace, followed him to where they would meet, put him on his knees and shot him in the face right as she arrived. Jalicia and Heath were with her. They didn’t own guns at the time, and after that, Grace never wanted to deal with them. She hated guns. Maybe because she would always think of Todd’s shattered face, the loudness of it as she ran as fast as she could, screaming “NO!” The way that she collected the boy into her arms, wailing while his murderer ran off and got away. He was an adult. He had some money. He was able to pick up and leave without repercussions.

Todd had a family out there. She saw them whenever they came to identify the body. They said that they didn’t know. That he looked like he might be theirs, but it had been 8 years and they just didn’t know, and she knew that they probably also didn’t want to believe… Grace had tucked his giraffe beanie into his pocket - something she had held on to for those years, afraid that he might lose it. They recognized that. They fell apart.

She was numb. She was ready to set 808 loose and let her burn that house down… Then, she met Hazel. Hazel was new to that house. She had never seen her before. She was 6 and a half. She was cute and friendly. She had no idea what was in store for her and Grace wasn’t about to let her know. So, she took her, rushed a bunch of the kids out and let 808 do what she loved to do. That motherfucker may have gotten away, but if he ever wanted to come back, his kids wouldn’t be there, neither would that house.

Taking care of Hazel was sort of a coping mechanism for Grace. She didn’t know it. Nobody really got it, but she fell in love with this child very quickly and spent weeks taking care of her.

Maybe they all did what she was doing… latched on to this new, cute, innocent kid to try to help and mold because they had let Todd down. “We all failed Todd,” was the most Xander had said in response to her crying about failing him. They didn’t want to fail Hazel too.

Hazel belonged to an old thug they called Tuba, but the last anybody heard, she had been taken to the pen. Hazel wandered off from Tuba’s Kids afterwards, because she was small and they were mean. Tuba was a lot of things, but word on the street was that she took care of her kids. Without her, that hotheaded demon, Bugle got a little big for her britches. She sent reps to Grace, demanding her sister back. The fact that this monster could call Hazel her sister and then do what she did to her…

Grace woke up wailing. Simon jumped and paused his video game. “Hazel! Hazel!” She was screaming. Simon placed his hand on her shoulders and she took a swing right for his face. He leaned back enough to miss full impact, but she did clip his chin. Then she hissed and looked at her hand, now fully awake. “I’m… sorry… Are you okay?” She asked, wiping her face and trying to slow her heartbeat. He rubbed his chin and nodded. “I’ll… go,” she whimpered, embarrassed that he had seen her like this. She was only supposed to be taking a nap, as she had gotten beat up pretty badly earlier. Some people don’t go down as easy with tranquilizers...

“Hey…” He caught her wrist gently and pulled her back to sit on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it? You were calling your turtle’s name.”

“She’s um. She’s named after someone. Can I get some water?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back… You’re not gonna leave when I get up, right?”

She smiled bashfully. It would not be the first time she just decided to take off and text Simon on her way halfway down the road. She shrugged her shoulders. It was almost morning, now. He came back with water with easy ice and a couple of orange wedges, which was how she usually had her water, but she couldn’t recall telling him that. She internally groaned, wondering if she had ordered water on any of their dates, but it had been a while since they went out and she had been through a lot lately… She couldn’t remember if he had just been observant or if he had been watching her one day. She didn’t know if she even cared anymore. As long as he didn’t see her on Date Nights. And she knew that he didn’t, because she generally came over afterwards. Tonight’s had been hard.

She had caught up with one of Tuba’s Kids. Not the one that she got arrested over. Word was that she could barely function. Needed to move in with her Granny and be nursed, for the rest of her life. Grace didn’t need to do more damage, but she still felt like that was too good for that bitch. She gulped the water down and chewed on the orange. “Want more?” She shook her head. “Want to talk about Hazel?”

She sighed. “Hazel was… a friend. Sort of. She was more like a little sister. Well… she was…” She tried to think of some type of way to speak in codes about this, but she couldn’t. So, she simply said, “I was in a gang once.” Simon’s face flickered something. It was like excitement, but she wanted to read it as shock, so she did. Honestly, he hadn’t thought she would tell him that. But, she tried to explain, “It wasn’t my fault! I mean… I was targeted and taken in… I wasn’t a bad kid…”

“I wasn’t judging you,” he said softly, and took her glass, to set it aside and hold her hands.

“We were all homeless. Those of us who found places to crash were either spaces that were within our territory or abandoned places. My friends and I relocated from a warehouse to one of those abandoned trains. We would you know, steal and stuff to survive, sometimes sell things… Hazel was a street kid from another gang, but I took her in and… well… the other gang got mad about it. One of them hunted her down and napped her from us, but whenever we caught up with them, I told her to let Hazel go… and she did. She let go of her… right… righ…” She reached for the glass again but it was empty. She choked out the words, staring into the glass, “Right in front of a train…”Not an abandoned one, but a moving one.”

“Oh my God!” Simon said, genuinely not expecting to hear THAT. Had that been in his research? He felt like he would have remembered something like that!

“I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there, crying like a bitch…”

“Grace… A kid was killed by a train. What could you have done?”

“I’ll tell you what I did next… She thought that she was gonna get away from me. I knew where they stayed. I knew their territory. I didn’t have bad blood with Tuba. We just did our own things, in our own spaces. But, I did go into her space to get that bitch. I dragged her out into the street and I beat that bitch with a bat. I don’t know if the police were passing by or if somebody called and they happened to be nearby. I heard my crew calling my name and telling me to come on, but… I couldn’t! She was still moving! Hazel was gone, but here was this bitch, still moving! So I just kept swinging and when she stopped moving, I kept swinging. I kept swinging until the police pulled me off of her.” She started crying, “Can I have some more water?” He took the glass in one hand and took her hand in another.

He didn’t believe that she wasn’t going to rush away the moment she had a chance to consider that she had just told him this. So, he walked her into the kitchen with him and sat her at the island. She seemed okay… As okay as somebody could be after something like that…

Whenever she accepted the second glass, she noted, “You didn’t even flinch. I told you that I tried to kill someone, and you just… listened.” There was a suspicious air to her comment.

“I don’t know how anyone else might react, but I’d like to think that if some danger came to somebody that I love that I would do whatever I could to keep them safe.”

“Yeah… but… I had already failed at that. Nobody was in danger when I went after her.”

“She was,” he said. To which Grace gasped at first, then began cackling with her head thrown back. She nursed her water a little longer and set the glass down. She looked at Simon, reached out slowly towards his face and he leaned closer so she could cup it. When her skin touched his, she pulled him in and kissed him.

Simon’s arms wrapped around her waist, tenderly at first, a little firmer when she wrapped her legs around him. He collected her and she laid on his shoulder. “I just want to be held,” She whispered, almost desperately.

“I told you… whatever you need.” Maybe, Simon wasn’t “too” present. Maybe, she needed somebody this close.

10. X Confirmed

#AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics #People Watching

6 notes · View notes

iwantthedean · 5 years

Text

A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74.

Part Three: Granny Smith. Tart and crisp.

Summary: Jensen spends more time around town. Y/N makes an effort to keep the farm in the family name. Pairing: None … yet. Word Count: 2198 Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.

A/N: Thank you for the continued support! I am loving writing this series :)

Masterlist

You spent the weekend more or less not speaking to anyone, just baking away your frustration. Jensen’s deceit hung heavy in your mind and sent you through a maze of emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger. Sad because someone was actually going to make an offer on the farm -- one you probably wouldn’t be able to match, let alone beat. Disappointment because, at your age, you thought you were past being played by guys. Finally, anger because the man had swooped in, handsome and charming, but turned out to be a complete fake.

By Monday morning, the anger part of all of that had more or less taken over. You slammed a coffee cup down from the cupboard in the teacher’s lounge. You poured your coffee, then slammed the pot back down onto the burner. Everything was getting slammed around, and you were mumbling under your breath about the jerk who had come to your farm only to steal it away from you.

“Jerk? More like an ass,” you grumbled, turning to leave as you sipped your coffee; you gasped when you saw your friend Taylor standing there, arms crossed over her chest and brow raised.

“Rough weekend, Y/N?” she asked.

You sighed and cleared your throat. “Yeah, a little. You getting coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ve got to go set up for my morning lesson. Meet me in my classroom?”

“Deal.”

You made way for your classroom, and Taylor was only a few minutes behind. She took a seat at the horseshoe-shaped table you used to work with student groups, and you took a seat in your chair across from her while you stapled activity packets.

“I have to sell the farm, for starters.”

“What? You’re kidding!” Taylor exclaimed.

You nodded. “Yeah. The money’s just -- it’s not a good situation. Anyway, after our half-day, I was going to do some work around the place, and this handsome stranger pulls up. Tall, sandy brown hair, green eyes. A little older than me, probably. Anyway, he tells me he’s just visiting and wanted to check out the farm. So we went apple picking and went to the pumpkin patch. We had all these flirty moments and cute looks --” You paused to groan at your own stupidity. “-- and then I went inside to get him a bag for the apples he picked, and Mr. Kemp pulls up in the driveway because this ass was there to see the farm to potentially buy it!”

“And he didn’t tell you? What is that about?” Taylor frowned. “We could figure out where he’s staying, get into his room, and … I don’t know. Do something … horrible.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, T, I bet if I give you enough time, you could maybe finish that plan.”

“Shut up,” she said, laughing along with you. “Look, don’t let him get to you, okay? The more important thing, it seems to me, is how you’re going to keep the farm. Let’s focus on that. Have you talked to the bank?”

“Yes. Mr. Kemp helped me get all the paperwork I need, and I take it all to the bank tomorrow after school. I won’t get a decision right away, which means I’ll be anxious as all get out until they give me an answer.”

Taylor nodded. “What did your dad say?”

You licked your lips and sighed, stacking the finished packets in front of you. “I haven’t called him yet. I will when I have more concrete information.”

“Maybe he could help …” She trailed off when you shook your head before the sentence was even done. Noting the first bell was going to ring soon, she put a hand on your arm. “Just keep your chin up, okay? Everything’s going to work out. I know it.”

You gave her the ghost of a grateful smile. “Thanks, Taylor. Go ahead, get to class. I’ll talk to you at lunch.”

“I’ll try to have a plan to get back at Mr. Handsome by then,” she teased, winking at you as she left the classroom.

* * * * *

For the third day in a row, Jensen was visiting The Farmer’s Stand. Just as planned, he had stopped there after leaving the orchard and purchased a jar of applesauce. He went back the next day for apple butter and a package of cookies that hadn’t been on the shelf the day before, as well as a loaf of homemade bread. Today, he was here for another jar of applesauce.

There was only one on the shelf, so he snatched it up before anyone else could. He perused through the market, also selecting a loaf of pumpkin bread marked from Y/N’s farm. At the register, Ms. Kitty rung up his items with a kind smile.

“Are we going to be seeing you every day, Jensen?” she asked. He appreciated that she remembered his name, though he would venture a guess that she remembered just about everybody who came through the market.

He chuckled. “Keep selling all this yummy stuff and I probably will. You know, food at the hotel is pretty good, but is there anywhere else you’d recommend in town?”

She nodded earnestly. “Midge’s Cafe, over on Ninth. Today’s beef stew day, actually -- comes with mashed potatoes and a freshly-baked roll. Their pie is great too, but I think you’ve got plenty of sweets here.”

“That I do,” Jensen agreed. “How much do I owe you?”

Ms. Kitty gave him a total. “Have you visited the apple orchard yet?”

Why did that question feel like a trick? “I have, yes. Met Y/N while I was there.”

The older woman sighed. “Such a shame she’s got to sell the place. This town was two-bit until their family came in and planted the orchard. They were plenty well off, but they started the pumpkin patch so the kids could have somewhere in town to go on field trips -- not because they had any need.”

Jensen took the bag of things he had purchased from her. “She said she’s the fourth generation to own the place.”

“She wasn’t lying. I’m sure you would have guessed, but I went to school with her grandfather, and my kids went to school with her father. Let me tell you -- that whole family is as sweet as Y/N. Every single one of them. Honest, hard-working, kind. When my son took over this place after my husband passed away, he wanted to stop doing business with them, for whatever reason.” She waved her hand, not worried at all about the particulars of that situation, it seemed. “Anyway, I wouldn’t allow it. You just don’t do that to good people, and Stephen doesn’t understand that. Whoever takes over the place, we’ll see if they want to continue to do business with us, I suppose.”

“They’d be crazy not to,” Jensen offered. “Thanks for everything, Ms. Kitty. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiled and waved goodbye. Jensen enjoyed visiting with her, but today, he was happy to get out of there. Hearing about Y/N’s family and how much they meant to the town only made him feel worse about potentially buying the place. Nevermind that he couldn’t get the glare Y/N had given him out of his mind -- a look he well-deserved.

As he drove over to the diner, he passed the elementary school. He smiled a little as he watched the kids play while he waited at the red light. This town was idyllic, a simple respite from the hustle and bustle of the last fifteen years of his life. His smile faded some when he spotted Y/N supervising the playground. She was zipping up the jacket of a little boy who was grinning wide while she talked to him. Once his jacket was zipped, the little boy hugged her leg before running off to join his friends again.

The driver behind him honked his horn; Jensen snapped his attention back to traffic. The light was green, so he proceeded through the intersection toward the cafe.

* * * * *

You honestly weren’t expecting an answer from the bank until the following week, so when you saw a missed call from them after school ended on Thursday, you heart immediately began to race. The message from the bank manager was asking you to come in and see her, so you went straight there once the parking lot cleared out.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” she smiled, motioning to the chair across from her. Please, have a seat.”

Sitting. That was good, right? That meant you’d be there for a while, potentially. Going over loan documents and signing papers, maybe? Oh for Heaven’s sake, Y/N. Just sit down.

“I’ve gone over all of the documents you brought over, and I spoke with Bartholomew Kemp -- he spoke very highly on your behalf.”

“He’s a very good friend to our family.”

She set her elbows on the desk. “Unfortunately, Y/N, you simply don’t have the financial background we like to see in our loan candidates. I even tried for a smaller amount, the minimum of what you would need to keep the farm for a while longer, buy you some time -- but it was a no-go.”

You forced yourself not to cry in the bank office. “But … I don’t understand. We’ve been banking with you all for years. My first auto loan was through this bank. My father kept my college fund here. My grandfather --”

The bank manager held up a hand. “Let me stop you there. Your family has history in this town, I’m well aware. And, if this was fifty or sixty years ago, maybe that would hold. It just doesn’t work like that anymore.”

“I understand,” you replied quietly. “Thank you, for the update. I’ll -- okay. Thank you.”

You took a deep breath, put your jacket back on, and shouldered your bag. In the car, you told yourself it was okay to cry, but you couldn’t even force the tears. You were just … numb. If you couldn’t get a bank loan, you didn’t know what else you would do, or could do.

“Guess it’s time to call Dad,” you sighed. As soon as you got home, you dialed the number and settled on the front porch swing to break the news to him.

* * * * *

Jensen sighed and hung up the phone. Bartholomew Kemp had just called to let him know that the owner of the farm was taking offers, and if he would like to place one, he just needed to email it over to Bartholomew. He wasn’t the only one making an offer, so if he was going to throw his hat in the ring, he needed to do it soon.

His lawyer sent over the written offer; Jensen printed it in the hotel’s business center, and walked it into Bartholomew’s office himself.

“I know you said to email it, but I wasn’t doing much anyway,” Jensen explained, letting go of a nervous chuckle. “So, is -- is Y/N pretty upset?”

Bartholomew looked up, brow raised. “Uh, yes, I suppose she is. Rightfully so.”

Jensen nodded and thanked the other man for his time. He left the office and sat in the car for several minutes, contemplating his next move.

The front office staff at the elementary school was kind enough to tell him how to find Y/N’s classroom, and informed him she was on her lunch break. No doubt the modest bouquet of Autumn flowers piqued the secretary’s interest, but he just made his way out of the office and down the hallway.

She was sitting at a table in the room with another teacher, and her eyes grew wide when she spotted him just inside the doorway of her classroom.

“Um, hi. What are you doing here?” The greeting and phrase fell out of her mouth in a panic as she stood. “Oh, um, this is Taylor. She teaches here, too. And she’s my friend. Taylor, this is Jensen Ackles. He -- yeah. This is Jensen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Taylor greeted, giving him the kind of tight smile that told him Taylor knew about his omission of the truth when he first met Y/N.

He cleared this throat. “This all seemed like a better idea in my head, honestly, but since I’m here … um, I am trying to learn from my mistakes and I thought I would come here, offer you the flowers to apologize for not telling you the entire truth when we first met and also to … let you know that I made an offer to Mr. Kemp today.”

Her surprised expression transformed to the anger he had expected. She took the flowers from him and set them on the table. “Well, thanks for the head’s up, I guess.”

“Yeah, I thought you should probably know, in case I’m around the farm again, so it doesn’t take you by surprise.”

“Great.”

Y/N sat back down and resumed her lunch. Taylor kept her back to Jensen. The silence was uncomfortable. He stumbled around his words for a few more tries, then exited the room. He sarcastically and silently congratulated himself for such a smooth interaction.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

A New Fall: @marilynnlew @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @traceyaudette @ellen-reincarnated1967 @maddiepants @littlewhiterose @tftumblin @monkeymcpoopoo @pinknerdpanda @thatgirl1456 @deangirl7695 @foxyjwls007 @woodworthti666

123 notes · View notes

i-choose-liam · 4 years

Text

Two’s Better Than One - King Liam x MC

Summary: Liam is more stressed than he's ever been before. A certain guest coming to the palace has prompted this anxiety in the Cordonian King. How will Liam fare against his special guest?

Book: The Royal Heir

Characters: King Liam, MC (Riley Spencer), Dani Spencer (OC), Hana Lee, Maxwell Beaumont, Drake Walker, other original characters.

Rating: T

Word count: 1k+

A/N: This is a short series about Riley’s family. If you read this, let me know if you like it. Reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks!

Cordonia

The staff at the palace was rushing back and forth. “Yellow! Not pink! How do you get the two confused?!”, Liam’s assistant yelled at a staff-member. The unwanted linen was taken away in a cart, the sound of the wheels just a part of the entire hustle-bustle. Dani witnessed the scene in passing as she walked past the staff towards the nursery. One of Riley’s incompetent bodyguards, the hot one, was guarding the doors to the nursery. They gave her a nod. “Miss Spencer” She gave a mock salute and walked in as the doors were opened for her. The light from the windows was the first thing to catch her eye. Cordonia sure had a lot of sunshine. And said sunlight was making the couple standing in the middle of the room look like ethereal angels. Liam was talking to someone on the phone, but he perked up at once on seeing Dani. He hung up and walked over to give her a hug. “You made it”, he said, smiling. Dani hugged him back and kissed his cheek as they parted. “’course I did”, she said, “As if I would miss my niece’s first ever party” Riley spoke in that supercilious tone her voice took on when she was trying not to be condescending. “It’s a ‘royal luncheon’ in honour of Eleanor, not a party” Dani walked to her, saying, “Leave it to you to literally take the word party out of an actual party, Riles” Riley smirked, “Good to see you too, my evil twin” “You’re the evil twin” A gleeful gurgle came from the bundle in Riley’s arms. Dani got close enough to look at the cuteness-bomb her niece, Princess Eleanor of Cordonia, was. “Hiii, angelll”, Dani cooed. “You wanna hold her?”, Riley asked. Dani was still smiling down at little Eleanor. She said, “What do you think I flew all the way here for?” Riley quipped, handing over the baby to Dani, “The free booze?” She was already making kissy faces at her niece, holding her with utmost care. “No, no, no”, she said, “Aunt Dani came here for Eleanor. Didn’t I, sweetheart? My god, Riley, she’s sooo cute! I can’t believe she came out of you” Dani bounced Eleanor a little in her arms. She was doing her best to be careful, the baby was only three months old, after all. Eleanor fixed her dark, bright eyes on Dani’s face, smiling as if she enjoyed the bouncing. She gave another heart-melting gurgle, forming a tiny drool-bubble at the corner of her mouth. The bubble rose above her face, startling Eleanor. Her eyes went wide and she exclaimed “Wooh! Wooh!” as she stared at this strange anomaly near her face, shaking her fists and legs all the while.

“It’s just flight information. What is so- you know what? Meet me in my office. I’m coming down there in a minute”, Liam was saying on the phone. Dani exchanged a knowing look with her twin. She raised an eyebrow. Riley nodded. “Did you scare him?”, Dani asked. Riley said, “I didn’t. He has been researching about them for almost a week” Liam walked to them then. He sounded frantic. “Dani, I hope you’re being taken care of well. If you need anything, I’ll be in my office. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything, okay?” Before she could reply, he was saying, “And I’ll see you as soon as I can, my love. I’ll be back” Both Dani and Riley stared at him in surprise as he kissed his daughter’s forehead, having clearly meant the words for her and not his wife. Liam strode away to the door, leaving Riley gaping after him, narrowing her eyes at his frame. As if realizing he had forgotten something, Liam turned around and walked to her. He was grinning. “Sorry”, he kissed her on the cheek, “Won’t happen again. I love you” “Uh-huh”, Riley replied. Dani bounced Eleanor in her arms again, taking in the look on her sister’s face. She smiled at Riley, “Poor guy” Riley just sighed.

***

Maxwell was humming under his breath as they sat in the antechamber to Liam’s office. Hana was saying to Drake, “And you made sure to ask the chef that he only use halal meat and sustainably sourced seafood?” “Um…”, was Drake’s answer. Maxwell chimed in, “Relax, Hana. You’re still in-charge of everything else. Liam just asked Drake to supervise the prep for the American dishes” “I know that”, Hana said timidly, “I’m just making sure” She sighed, saying, “Sorry if I seemed to be meddling, Drake. I prefer discussing this stuff with Liam and Riley. But Riley is spending time with her sister and Eleanor. And Liam’s just been so preoccupied lately” “Speaking of…” Drake indicated the door to Liam’s office. The King walked towards them at a brisk pace, taking a seat across from Maxwell. “Thanks for waiting, guys”, Liam said, tugging at his cravat.

Before he could even catch his breath, Liam was talking again. “Maxwell, I hope you followed the instructions for the entertainment program”, he said. Maxwell nodded, remembering all the non-party-esque instructions he had had to follow. “Of course. Nothing too loud, no fireworks, no confetti. Nothing un-eco-friendly. And Celine Dion will be performing shortly after lunch” “Thank you. Drake, the food and alcohol?”, Liam turned to him. “Yep. I talked to the chef. She said this might be the first time we’re going to serve fried chicken for a luncheon at the palace. Vegetarian options are available in three different Asian cuisines. And I personally selected the single malt…” Liam shot up in his chair, surprising everyone in the room. “No, no, no. No whiskey. I specifically told you she hates whiskey. Vodka. Vodka and cocktails are what she will be served”, he said, face harried. Drake said slowly, “Okayy…” Liam turned to Hana next. He said in a pleading voice, “I know you’re the only one who would never disappoint me, Hana. How are the rest of the arrangements?” She assured him, “I have followed all your instructions to the letter, Liam. And I have done my fair share of research on Analyn Torres. I’m going to do a debriefing for the palace staff before the flight lands. Maxwell will be with you at the airport for the welcoming” “No, I need you with me at the airport. I mean, I need Maxwell and you there with me” Drake scoffed, “Gee, thanks, Liam” Liam tugged at his cravat again and walked to the coffee table. He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher and emptied it in one go. Maxwell looked at Hana with meaning, who looked at Drake, quietly urging him to talk to the King. “You know”, Drake said to Liam, “I haven’t seen you this nervous ever before. You okay, man?” Liam didn’t answer. He flopped down into his seat again, closing his eyes and absently rubbing his forehead. Hana tried, “You have addressed an entire congregation of world leaders at the UN, and you didn’t sweat a drop. This can’t be more difficult than that, Liam” Liam replied, “I have to make a good first impression” Maxwell said, trying to lighten the situation, “You are the King of one of the wealthiest, coolest countries in Europe, Liam. And she’s what? A college professor?” Drake seemed to agree. “Maxwell’s right. I don’t see why you have to be so afraid of meeting your mother-in-law. She’s probably the opposite of Spencer. She’s probably like Dani, and not Riley” Liam mumbled, “The other one is” Maxwell was confused. “What?”, he asked. Liam sighed. “Riley told me her “Mom”, Razia Spencer, is the relaxed, carefree one like Dani. My other mother-in-law, Dr. Analyn Torres, is an activist and a tenured professor at Columbia University, who’s known for her scathing criticism of capitalism and monarchy. She made the High Chancellor of Auvernal cry during his first and last visit to the USA” The room was suddenly quiet enough to hear the ticking coming from the clock on the wall. Hana said nothing, looking sympathetic to Liam’s cause of concern, as if she had known these fun facts all along. Maxwell just stared at one face from another, not knowing what to say. Drake broke the silence. “Well, damn”

***

Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean –

Analyn scrolled the webpage on her laptop. The plane lurched a bit, sudden turbulence rocking her in her seat. She stayed calm enough to finish reading the latest from the Cordonian Daily. She kept assuring herself she was not trying to gather ammunition to use against her son-in-law, but part of her felt guilty just the same. She had promised her wife she wouldn’t judge their son-in-law before she even met him, and she always kept her promises to Razia. “Baby?” Analyn closed her laptop and turned to her wife, who was just stirring from a four-hour nap. She smiled at the look of confusion on her wife’s face, something which amused her to no end even after thirty years of marriage. Razia’s short hair fell across her eyes, which she was rubbing sleepily. “Are we there yet?”, she asked, half asleep. “No, my love. Still an hour or so, I think” “Okay” Razia clutched Analyn’s arm and rested her head on her shoulder again. She said, with her eyes closed, “Did you finish reading about Liam?” “I-I wasn’t… um…” “It’s okay. I won’t tell Riley. Hehe” Analyn smiled and put an arm around her love, saying, “Go to sleep, you. We’ll be in Cordonia soon” “I hope Eleanor’s got Riley’s eyes” “I quite like Liam’s eyes too” “He’s good-looking but, you know. Our baby’s our baby” “A stubborn 26-year old, yes” “Shush. We haven’t seen her in forever. We’re just going there to see her and our granddaughter, okay? No fighting” “Yes, darling” “Good. I sleep now. Good night” “It’s morning”, Analyn grinned. “Mhm” Her wife was asleep again in minutes. Putting away her laptop, and her inhibitions for the time being, Analyn wrapped her arm tighter around Razia and closed her eyes. She hoped to get some sleep before meeting her royal son-in-law for the first time. They had so much to talk about.

#liam x mc #king liam x mc #trh liam x mc #riley & dani #princess eleanor of cordonia #trh fanfiction #trh #the royal heir #fanfiction #thatoclady fanfics #playchoices

55 notes · View notes

coeurdastronaute · 5 years

Text

Essays in Existentialism: Atlantis 4

Previously on Atlantis

The morning came, steady and through flickering lights against the window, unstill and blinding like a disco ball and lava lamp worked together to form a hybrid. Even behind her eyelids, the patient could see the light dancing through the waters and window before trying to make her join the land of the living yet again.

The oil she was given to rub on her bruises smelled like sweet mint, and it stiffened slightly in the night on her rib, while the kelp compress left nothing more than a pale cut on her forehead and bruising around her eyes. With a small grunt, Clarke gave up to the whims of the underwater world, and opened her eyes as she pressed a hand against the soreness that slept still, sound and happy, in her muscles and bones.

Slowly, still fuzzy around the edges from the concussion, the world came into focus again, and Clarke found herself staring at the ceiling of the ornate room that had become her own during her stay. Rich blues and whites mingled in the most pristine and perfect marble she’d ever seen, while the rich tapestry that covered one wall burst forth in colors and a story, artfully done and purposeful.

Two days ago, she’d been on a research vessel in the middle of the ocean working with her mentor to discover a way to stunt evolutionary tendencies in viruses. Two days ago, she was a girl who didn’t fully believe in the myth of Atlantis, or that Aquaman was a king who ruled more people who could breathe under water.

But she woke up again in a bed that smelled like oranges and sunlight, wrapped in a blanket that was soft and stiff, like clothes dried on a clothesline. She’d eaten a dinner that consisted of her third grade favorite lunchbox lunch, with a reigning monarch in said potentially imaginary underwater country. And nothing made sense.

With no small showing of effort, Clarke propped herself up and sat on the edge of the bed, testing her body all over again, learning how it worked today, and being slightly amazed by how well it felt. The lingering soreness felt like she’d worked out too hard for a whole week straight, but was by no means as terrible as she’d felt less than ten hours ago. She sat there for a few moments and caught her breath, afraid to test her body, but knowing that she must. Clarke pushed herself from the bed and stood, balancing like a baby deer on its new legs.

Everything seemed to work well enough, and she was afraid of the potential pain, but true to the words she couldn't understand, the body began to heal and she found herself wincing for nothing at all.

“I guess I just put more on,” Clarke wondered aloud as she looked at the table across the room that held the ointments and bottles. “But what… how did she combine them?”

Making it across the room, she picked up an intricate bottle and tugged at the stopped, sniffing the inside as a black liquid sloshed about, seen through the pure blue of the bottle. The door cracked and began to open, and the new sound made Clarke drop the bottle so it shattered on the ground, covering the pristine floor with a rather stale smelling liquid.

“I’m sorry-- I didn’t-- I wasn’t sure anyone would come in, and I wanted to--”

“Ti káneis na-eme?” the same old woman asked, hurrying as much as her old bones and bent back would allow. “Tha dilitiriásete ton eaftó sas.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“Kínisi!”

The nurse pushed Clarke slightly as she began cleaning up the dropped liquid, careful to avoid touching it as best she could. Somewhere between shooting her a look and muttering something Clarke was certain was a curse, the nurse humphed and began cleaning up the shattered glass, her displeasure clearly apparent.

A knock tapped softly for a moment as Clarke proceeded to apologize again and get pushed away from trying to help. And if she couldn’t get more mortified of her current predicament, the embodiment of earthly perfection entered the room with a worried furrow.

“I just came to see if you would like breakfast,” Lexa offered, staring at the mess and offering her forearm to Clarke to help move her away from the clean up. “But it looks like you might be busy. Eínai óla kalá?”

“Peismatáris kai adéxia. Léte óti eínai meletitís?”

The princess chuckled and tried to swallow it when Clarke gave her a pointed look.

“That’s a very concentrated combination of venoms and plants, used as a slight numbing agent in the healing process,” she explained, translating very loosely. “More than a few drops would paralyze or potentially kill you.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“You weren’t. She just finds it very difficult to believe you are someone who studies medicine.”

In an instant, Clarke snapped her eyes away from Lexa’s pretty green ones, and turned them on the old woman who put the discarded vial in her basket before setting up for another treatment.

“She should teach me instead of letting me nearly kill myself.”

“Althea is our best healer. She helped deliver me, and my mother, and my mother’s mother and father. Her knowledge would take you years to even start to understand.”

“Are you calling me dumb, too?”

“No, no,” Lexa hurried as Clarke crossed her arms. “Just that she knows enough to fill an entire library. She wrote the books on our modern methods. Books is plural.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s called me dumb a few times,” Clarke sighed as those elderly hands tugged on her shirt once again.

“She has,” the princess smiled and nodded. “I was--”

In an instant, her shirt was tugged up again, and Clarke realized that she was now showing off her stomach and ribs and much too much underboob to the future ruler of a futuristic underwater country that no one was ever allowed to visit. But she was stuck, and the princess was staring. Clarke knew that because she tried to maintain eye contact to pretend nothing bad was happening to her.

“Um, I was…,” Lexa furrowed again before quickly turning around when she met Clarke’s eyes. “I’m sorry. She’s much more intent on getting you better than we might have previously realized.”

“Whatever she’s doing is working. I feel better than I could have imagined.”

“Léei óti aisthánetai kalýtera,” Lexa explained.

Clarke watched as the old woman moved with her eyes nearly shut, the wrinkles covering every part of her face, wearing deep the long lines of living into her very fabric. All she did was hum slightly and press another compress to Clarke’s ribs.

“How do I… I want to thank her, for everything.”

The nurse tugged on Clarke’s jaw, pulling at her shoulders so that she could get a good reach on the wound on her head, repeating her process, though slightly more gently than the ribs.

“Efcharistó,” Lexa explained, peaking over her shoulder, thankful to find the stranger more clothed than before.

“Ef--ef--,” Clarke tasted the word, attempting her best to get over the hump of saying it. “Efcharistó?”

For a second, the woman paused and nodded slightly. Clarke smiled and looked down at her side before holding her hand against the fresh press while Lexa spoke with the healer, bowing deeply to her before earning a kiss on her forehead and a tap of a hand against her cheek.

Freshly ready to heal, Clarke felt full in the room with Lexa, and wasn’t sure what else there was to say or do. It took Lexa a moment to find the protocol.

“I came to see if you would like to eat, and… I can’t show you much, but you’ll be here for a few days while we prepare the Spindrift, and I could show you some things.”

“You don’t have to supervise. I’m sure you have other… princess things to do?”

“My mother is busy with her embassy, and my father is busy saving the planet. I currently have nothing planned,” Lexa explained, clasping her hands and letting them hang in front of her.

The crest on her shoulder was proud and ancient. The soft fall of her braids against the deep green and cream color of her frock was picture perfect, and all before breakfast was even served. The princess held an entire world together, and she was going to be the link between words, born of both.

And she was gracious enough to save Clarke’s life in her spare time.

“And I had a few questions about Land… if that’s okay?”

“Breakfast first,” Clarke decided, her smile warming as Lexa returned it at the offer.

“I can do that.”

XXXXXXXXX

“So this is just one of your gardens?” Clarke asked as she walked out onto the balcony that was so large she forgot it was suspended partly above the city.

Stacked, the buildings seemed dripping in greenery and elaborately inlaid, as if every story was intricately planned and prepared. There were bits that reminded Clarke of old textbooks or picture books from when she was a child and went through Egyptian and Greek Gods phases of learning. Giant statues, with limited features but strong poses, warriors and thinkers alike, stood guard throughout the city from the view. Towering figures held up buildings, while greenery and trees filled every inch, weaving together a lattice roof over the shops and buildings below. Sleek lines dictated the skyline.

Standing on the private balcony garden, Clarke surveyed much of the city she’d missed from her window view of the palaces back patios and gates. Now, she saw the dome that sat around the city, saw the architecture, felt the breathing, pulsating thrum of the entire place.

“It is. We have a few royal gardens. Some of the most prized and ancient plants are here, and are often open to the public.”

“But not today?”

“Only during the high holidays.”

It was lush and alive, the entire city was a steady noise and hum, but the gardens were quietly removed from it, shadowed in giant trees and overgrown shrubs she couldn’t quite place. Every way Clarke looked, she found something mesmerizing, something that brought up more questions, something she knew she’d never see again.

“How do you… How did you get all of this here?”

“Atlantis has always existed, even before the shift,” Lexa explained, her hands careful linked behind her back.

She walked perfectly straight, her gait natural and fixed, her body fluid. Clarke caught herself watching the princess as much as she watched the entire world around her that no other person who walked on land had ever seen. Chestnut hair in intricate braids, her strong brow, the green of her eyes, the soft slope of her chin and smile-- it was distracting, even in a palace.

“And you can breathe… underwater?”

The princess ducked her head and chuckled.

“Yes, all Atlanteans can breathe both. Evolution was as kind to us as the gods were.”

“I have so many questions, I can’t decide where to start.”

The pair wandered along the path as Clarke wracked her brain and overheated with the information. Lexa saw to it that they were left alone and undisturbed, the palace gates shut tightly and all entrances to the garden monitored by the guards she trusted the most. For just a few moments, she allowed herself to enjoy the company of the girl she saved, who had a peculiar way of looking at things, who blushed sometimes, right on the edge of cheeks.

“Maybe don’t ask any questions,” Lexa offered after a moment of quiet as they came to the edge. She took a seat on a planter wall under a flowering tree with big blue and purple petals. “Just live this moment.”

“Is that what you do here?”

“I do tend to enjoy my time in my home, yes.”

Clarke took a seat beside the princess, careful to hold her ribs as she readjusted.

“I want to know everything. It’s a curse, I’m afraid.”

“I suppose I’d be the same way on land,” Lexa acquiesced. “I wouldn’t know where to even begin, but something about sitting here, feeling, touching, tasting, hearing-- it’ll help you understand Atlantis more than any question.”

“I would actually imagine that the few questions I have about the field surrounding the city, or the evolutionary tactic of breathing underwater might be illuminating.”

Again, Lexa caught herself smiling, but she swallowed it and looked up at the light filtering through the branches and petals. She closed her eye and took a deep breath, willing the visitor to do the same.

Neither spoke, but rather took the time to enjoy each other’s company and the quiet moment that neither world would ever know about. Clarke listened, catching a far away laugh of a child playing something. She heard a hum and a rushing of water, she heard the long, drawn out caws of some kind of bird that existed within the microcosm. After a few minutes, she reached up and plucked a petal from the tree, careful not to disturb the rest of the large flower on the branch. It took up her entire hand, and she rubbed her fingers along it, feeling the thick, velvet touch it had, smelling the sweet, musky hint it hid.

Lexa watched as the stranger felt her world, and she wasn’t sure what she expected from Clarke, but she hadn’t expected her words to be taken quite to heart. For an instant, she almost believed she could see when Clarke began to understand and feel it, the ease and peace that came in the gardens.

“When I was young, maybe only five or six, my father took me on land,” Lexa explained. “He introduced me to his father. We went to a building, shaped like a long tube that had a light on top. He said it was where he grew up, and he showed me all of his things, and my grandfather showed me his world. I remember the taste of the salt in the air and the smell of the fishermen coming home. I remember the feeling of the net in my hand as I played with it. I remember my father sitting on top of this light with me, and he pointed to the entire world. I could see for miles and miles. He told me it was my job to protect my people from those on land, and it was my job to protect the land from all else. That was how we united the two. But I didn’t listen, not fully. I had an ice cream cone.”

Clarke watched as Lexa spoke, as she confessed and said more words than she imagined the princess ever normally said. It was not the story of a princess though, but rather that of a stranger, offering something innate, something of themselves.

“Are you not allowed on land?”

“No,” she shook her head curtly.

“You should come. See what you’re destine to defend.”

“I’m destined to complete much more training here,” Lexa sighed. “Once the world turned its back on my father, once they condemned Atlantis, he was forced to choose. He chose us.”

“But he still helps?”

“He’s not a heartless man.”

“It just seems incredibly selfless.”

“Being a good ruler is about seeing what others don’t, doing what others won’t, and being what others can’t,” Lexa recited.

“You’re a good person.”

“I try very hard.”

Clarke smiled at the honestly and looked at her own hands as her fingers knot themselves together. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her shoulder felt warm as Lexa somehow moved close enough so that they were now touching.

“If you ever change your mind, you could come on land. I’d show you around.”

“You would?”

“Fair is fair. I’m not sure we have anything this beautiful though,” Clarke confessed.

There was a grin. She saw it as Lexa’s eyes went dreamy. Clarke found herself leaning closer, her body moving on its own. Lexa searched Clarke’s face and shook her head.

“I don’t know. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

For a second, Clarke was swept up in green eyes and the lips that disappeared for an instant behind the peak of a tongue. It was entirely unfair that someone like Lexa, who saved her life, who cared, who gawked and awkwardly wasn’t sure how to move when her shirt slipped up a little, was also so entirely too delicious looking.

Instead of doing it, instead of leaning forward, Clarke looked toward the city below the palace, and she smiled slightly as a blush snuck up her neck.

“Are all Atlanteans so charming?”

“No, not too many.”

“Good to know.”

“Should I take you back so you can rest?”

“Don’t trust me to make it back alone?” Clarke teased.

“I do, but the rest of the guards might have a bit of doubt.”

Lexa stood up and held out her hand for the stranger to take. With no hesitation at all, Clarke took it and let herself be lead back into the palace.

XXXXXXXXX

Word reached the control room quickly that the King was on his way back, the crisis from outside officially dealt with, his aid offered and accepted for another victory. No news covered if there had been losses on the side of the Justice League, and the Queen wasn’t sure what mood he would return in, but was grateful he was at all.

Quietly, she surveyed the reports on her screen and grew more and more excited to see him, finally allowing herself the moment to reflect on the past few days and how hectic they’d been coupled with the constant nagging about his return.

But her husband was stubborn, and would always come home.

“I’m going to my chambers for the evening,” Meera announced as she stood, the rest of her entourage doing the same. “Monitor the fleets to the south and the shifting and quake potential off the coast of South America.”

“Yes ma’am,” the commander nodded.

“If my husband makes it home, please let the morning rotation know to push the meetings until the afternoon.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll take an update about the Spindrift as soon as possible.”

“I”ll get in touch now, your highness.”

“Goodnight, friends,” the queen paused at the door. “Today was a success.”

With her notes tucked under her arm, the queen made her way out into the hallway, her guard trailing slightly behind her, as she was known to prefer. It took a lot to run a nation, and it took a lot to unify two who didn’t want it. But she knew it was for the best, and she believed in it so much, she obsessed.

Slowly, the queen made her way down the hall, eager for things to return to normal.

As if on time, she heard an unfamiliar sound of what she thought to be her daughter laughing, though it died away quickly. Her pace slowed considerably as she approached the corner of the hall and she waved her guard to slow, taking their time before reaching sight of the two girls.

Looking decidedly much healthier, the girl from the land stood, her arm wrapped around Lexa’s for support though she walked much better, and looked to have more color in her cheeks than the last time Meera saw her. She was pretty, beautiful even. Shorter than her daughter, though not by much. Her hair was much lighter than she originally thought, and her eyes a bit lighter as well. She watched Lexa when she spoke, hanging on every word, her smile constant, while the princess spoke passionately before catching her earnestness and pulling back slightly.

The queen was barely moving as they paused at Clarke’s door. Lexa moved and dropped something in her hand, quick to try to pick it up, a blush on her cheeks as she opened Clarke’s door for her. The queen smiled to herself at her daughter’s antics, at how she struggled to say goodbye, at the fact that as soon as Clarke’s door closed, the princess leaned against the wall and sighed, collapsing under her own head.

It was only then that the queen picked up her pace, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all.

“Are you ready to take our guest back to land?”

“Yes, of course,” Lexa answered as she stood up straighter, losing the human in her movements. She was rigid with responsibilities.

“Your father is returning.”

“Good news,” she smiled, perking up slightly.

The mother and daughter gave each other a look, a knowing look, a certain look that they deciphered and danced around.

“We should walk and discuss a few things,” Meera decided.

As much as Lexa wanted to protest, to go back to her room, to sleep and forget, she knew that the suggestion wasn’t optional, and with a heavy head, she nodded.

144 notes · View notes

writing-in-winter · 5 years

Text

dream catcher (prologue)

three things that didn’t make sense until they did.

characters: tony stark x gifted!reader

word count: 2k

trigger warnings: depression, suicide

summary: you wanted a fresh start. you have it. but then the avengers find you, insisting that a life, which you have no recollection of, is yours.

a/n: i am finally posting a series, holy shit. i understand the prologue makes absolutely no sense, but hopefully, with the upcoming updates (i am finishing high school in two weeks hooray!) things start to become clear. in the prologue, y/n does not know she is gifted, because her memories has been locked away. also, i am blatantly ignoring canon *cough* especially iw and endgame *cough* (i’m too lazy to thoroughly proofread this because i have a paper to sit for tomorrow so feel free to slide into my inbox if you catch any mistakes. love y’all for reading!)

one—it is true when they say ‘what if’s haunt you forever.

you couldn’t remember the reason you were looking for tony, but you wished you hadn’t. it only reopened doors that you worked so hard to shut a long time ago. what despairs you the most is that it only took a short second to unwind the effort you had put in, for the insecurity and doubt to pour out of the tiny crack.

and then the emptiness you thought you had left behind for good comes rushing in all at once without a warning. it hits when you were crunching on cereals alone at the oversized island, which was meant to fit ten people comfortably.

most of the avengers are either away on a mission or had breakfast earlier that morning, and tony is… you look down at the cereal floating around in milk, frowning. you didn’t know where he is. when did that start?

you relish in the silence – it meant you need not bother with putting on a front and shrouding your unexplainable sadness from anyone – but after a while, it became deafening.

sliding into his audi, you draw your hand over the steering wheel, recalling the last time you drove this car. it was another aimless drive, but with tony in the passenger seat and you stepping on the gas on a lesser used road.

now, in his place is your bulky coat instead. it’s an complicated feeling. to hate the constant supervision, but wanting him with you. just the two of you alone, with no worries or fears for your safety or your unborn child’s.

for miles in the distance, all you can see is the white snow collecting on the dirty brown earth. finally, the car whirs to a stop at an abandoned park.

you just cannot resist the pull of it and the calm nature brings you, especially when you are alone.

the world lulls to a quiet hum as you drew the thick brown fabric closer to your body and wrapped your arms around your belly. your child. she wouldn’t be here if tony hadn’t insisted on keeping the accidental pregnancy. but as the months flew by, your love for your unborn daughter grew in size until it is rivaled only by your love for your fiance.

early winter is soft, though still a stark difference against the colors of spring. white blankets the ground, the arching tree branches, and everything in your vision. oh, how peaceful it is, to be away from any human and an extremely smart ai.

the silent supervision is suffocating at times, sending someone to assist you with the slightest of things when tony isn’t around. courtesy of him, no doubt. you had protested against the protocol, though you eventually relented, knowing that it gives tony some peace of mind when he isn’t near you.

how perfect would it be, if you could go back to the woman you were, free to roam the end of earth without anything or anyone holding you back? seemingly impossible, given the lengths of your love for tony, that you would leave him behind. but just for a moment, you imagine if you had never met him. perhaps you will still be the lone traveller, doing what you love in person.

you close your eyes, resting at the metal bench. just a minute, you told yourself. just a minute.

the steady beep emanating from the device beside you sends you gasping awake. the bright lights in the ceiling are blinding to your unfocused eyes, making you wince and twist away from it. wait, ceiling?

it is white all around, but for a minute you couldn’t get your eyesight straight. you curse at the contact lens which probably slid when you were asleep. heavy breaths run through your lungs, working, pushing, to make sure you stay alive. tony appears in the clear vision in your right eye, eyes lined with worry and rubbing your back in a soothing manner.

“i think the left contact lens slipped to the back.” you blink, slightly panicked at the sure ache at the back of your eye. your fingers make to force the lens out, but he grips your hand and tells you to lie down as he calls for a nurse. ah, so the compound med bay then.

shortly after the contact lens issue is resolved and the doctor on duty successfully convinced tony for the hundredth time that ‘no, sir, ms (y/n) is not experiencing frostbite’, you move back to your quarters.

apparently, instead of a minute, you had fallen asleep at the park, for two whole hours. you feel guilty for being a constant worry on his mind, promising to check in with him whenever you left the compound. you just didn’t realise the extent of the damage done until vision phases into the garage as you unlock a car.

he is a terrible actor. you knew FRIDAY sent him, but still, you listen as he asks to accompany you to wherever you are going because he needed to get something from the grocery store. you lie that you are simply retrieving your belongings left in the car.

that is when you knew you wouldn’t be leaving the building without supervision anytime soon. it shouldn’t suffocate you as much as it does.

two—it is true when they say family hurts you the most.

his lab is locked. again. FRIDAY confirms that tony is in there, but she isn’t allowed to let you enter the workspace.

you would ask her to connect you to tony, but he had been snappy lately. the sadness was gaining too, and normally you would be outside, soaking in the vastness of nature. you had long since gave up trying to sneak out the building by yourself. it is annoying and embarrassing for FRIDAY to keep sending people to find you. once, steve caught you as you were descending the emergency staircase with your pajamas on underneath the winter coat. with FRIDAY watching, you don’t even know why you are trying at all.

talking to tony about his protocols is a dead end. the last time you attempted to sweet talk him into lifting his most recently added protocol, it ended with him giving you the silent treatment for two days straight.

too tired to argue with anyone, even FRIDAY, you made to leave. you decided an early dinner with yourself would be nice. maybe some wine.

the kitchen is eerily silent without your playlists humming in the background. ironically, it brings you some peace. what a horrible resonance, reflecting your state of mind. when will this end?

you hobble around the wide kitchen for a little bit, bringing out the pot and the utensils you needed to make soup. loud clicks that must have came from stiletto heels make you look up from your chopping board.

you break into a smile at the sight of your best friend waving the bouquet of tulips at you. she wraps you into a tight hug, exclaiming her wonder at how far along you were in your pregnancy. pulling back to actually look at you after kissing your cheek, she frowns.

“i’m bloated, i know” you laugh for the first time in forever, accepting the bouquet from her.

caressing the indigo petals, and just relishing in the beauty of the tulips, you thank her. it has been so long since you have set foot outside that you miss the feelings of fresh morning dew on grass under your feet so badly.

you place the tulips on the countertop, careful not to squish any of the buds. it is a little hard to bend with the large baby bump, but you manage alright to bend and open the lower cupboard where you stored your vases.

your favorite china vase with tiny red buds dotted along the blue vines is missing. a frown sets itself on your brows as you purse your lips and straighten your back with a hand supporting your lower back. you begin to rummage through the rest of the cupboard.

“are you looking for this one?” she passes you the vase you are looking for.

you huff good-naturedly but exasperatedly. “tony loves misplacing my things.”

“oh, it isn’t his fault, i bought a new vase for the flowers he got the other day and i had no idea where to keep this one here.” she leans over you standing at the sink and fills the vase with water.

you are still standing there stunned by her seemingly offhand comment. “when?”

“like last last week? i can’t remember.”

“oh.” the smile is forced this time around. you pretend as if everything was alright. as if you are not bitter about tony blowing you off for someone else. everything is fine.

“friday, can you ask tony if he is joining us for lunch?”

you pray she hadn’t replied in a heartbeat before friday could respond. “he’s going out.” was she in there while i am locked out?

the ground is ripped from under you in an instant. you are drowning, struggling for air, but everything is fine.

three—it is true when they say truth kills.

he had been tip-toeing around you for two months now. and he doesn’t look at you the same. maybe it’s been awhile, but you only started to notice after your best friend paid you a visit that day.

to be so familiar with your kitchen, you gather, she had to have been over frequently. more frequent than you know of anyway.

it hurts. it physically hurts. to see him look at her with even a fraction of that glint that was once reserved for you. and only you.

you should have known better. you should have trusted that pit of darkness rolling in your belly. no man can be trusted. and yet, you maintain the facade.

the torture of knowing and seeing the man you love fall for another when he has promised you forever was an unending agony. death may be your only reprieve, but even then, would he allow you to be free?

would you allow yourself to be free of him?

pretending feels like the only way you seem in control of your life.

so you pretend. you pretend you didn’t mind when he said he is taking her sightseeing around New York City. you pretend you didn’t see him taking her out to the most expensive restaurant on the magazine cover. you pretend you didn’t see his hand on her thigh during dinner. you pretend and pretend and pretend.

and when you saw him kissing her on the driveway, you pretend.

as if every single day, every waking moment, even in your sleep, every breath you take, fire isn’t burning you alive. as if you aren’t hollowed out by the lies you are both making. as if the cursed image isn’t burned into the back of your eyelids, haunting you whenever you close your eyes.

it is a burning hell with no end in sight. no peace to be had. and you just wanted it to end. you wanted to start over. and maybe, just maybe, you can run away and never look back before this drives you insane.

but the only way you will be able to truly leave is through death. because he will never let you leave.

so you wait. you play by his suffocating protocols until you forgot what it felt like to be free. you smile and nod until your love turned to resentment and finally, acceptance. you lie and say you dreamt of him dying when all you see when you close your eyes is him kissing her and fucking her like his life depended on it. you smile through the pain and the rot of your former self until you can no longer tell the difference between hallucination and reality.

you pretend everything is fine when nothing is.

everything will be alright. you hug steve, who accompanied you on your daily walk. then, with his back facing you, looking for your phone that you dropped on purpose, a real smile graces your tired face for the first time in months.

you plunge down the cliff laughing.

reblog previous chapter to be automatically tagged in next chapter. (you will be tagged in one if you reblogged prologue, and two if you reblogged one, etc.) i do not keep a taglist.

#tony stark #tony stark angst #tony stark x reader #what is endgame #canon has no place in my blog #marvel #avengers #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic

73 notes · View notes

bluehhj · 5 years

Text

listen to me — chapter 37

LISTEN TO ME — 0037

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 2.3K

Still on Sunday, around four in the afternoon, Jinah drove across the city to understand all sides of the chaotic situation she was subjected to along with her friends. She had only visited Changbin's mother's house once and a long time ago, so, she could barely remember the way. She wasn't sure if Seo was really there, either, but, since the boy didn't answer any calls or answered any of her messages, Jinah could only follow her guess. And it was not until after turning around and turning many wrong corners that Choi finally recognized the sky-blue facade and the small tulip flower bed.

The neighborhood she was in looked a lot like what she used to live in as a teenager. It was colorful and smelled of cookies and freshly baked cake hanging in the air. The low flow of vehicles on the cobblestone streets allowed children to play more freely on sidewalks, supervised from afar by their mothers, waiting for their seats in the salon or chatting near the windows. It was too pleasant, a right a place to rest the mind.

Jinah opened the little white fence gate and headed for the short steps that led to the front door of the house. She rang the bell and, while waiting to be answered, observed the delicate decoration Mrs. Seo made in the garden. If at times Changbin looked very dark — according to Han Jisung — it was definitely not the woman's influence. The sound of the doorknob, however, brought her attention back to the real reason for being there, and she returned the big smile Changbin's mother opened as soon as she saw her.

— "It's been over a year since you last came here," — Soonkyu commented as she invited Jinah in. — "I'll pretend I wasn't sad that I was forgotten like that, okay?"

— "Sorry ahjumma, it's the routine" — she whined and took off her shoes. So what if she was wearing teddy bear socks? — "It's also been a while since I've seen my mom. I want to enjoy next month's vacation and make some visits."

— "I'm kidding, I understand how hard it is for you guys" — Soonkyu was still smiling, but Jinah could see a layer of concern on her features. — "But changing the subject..." — she hesitated for a moment, sitting on the arm of the couch. Choi preferred to remain standing. — "I guess you didn't come just to taste my cookies, right?"

— "Right," — Jinah admitted ruefully. Now her lips were just stretched in a tiny curve, almost like an apologetic smile. — "Is Changbin here?"

— "Upstairs. He came in the morning and locked himself in the room, didn't leave until now. I'm not quite sure what happened, but I'm so disappointed, you know? I always thought Jade was a good girl."

— "But she is!" Jinah hurried to contradict her. — "What happened was just a very complicated misunderstanding."

— "I don't know..."

— "Ahjumma, I assure you that Jade is suffering as much as Changbin, or even more than that," — Jinah assured her, her calm intonation conveyed confidence. — "You know her so well, she wouldn't do something like that on her own, especially with Binnie."

— "I need to have a serious talk with her when the dust settles, that's it" — Soonkyu sighed, frustrated, and threaded a few rebellious strands behind her ears. — "Anyway, do you want to try talking to Changbin? I couldn't do it at all, but maybe he wants to hear from you."

— "I'll see what I can do."

— "Second door after the stairs, you already know the way."

Jinah nodded and excused herself, then climbed the new wooden steps, as Soonkyu returned to the kitchen. As expected, the bedroom door was closed. She clamped her lower lip between her teeth for a few seconds, running her eyes over the massive, varnished surface. She raised her hand to knock, but gave up and blew out a single breath; then, leaned against the doorjamb and began to speak.

— "Changbin, it's me... Are you alive in there?" — silence. — "Look, I know you don't wanna talk to anyone right now... But, bro, I spent my gasoline... And it was kind of uncomfortable sitting in the same position for so long while I was looking for this house, you know?... Yeah, it is what you're thinking..." — Jinah began to feel pathetic. She wanted Changbin to open the door once and for all, because talking to herself made her talk shit so easily. — "And I also know that I'm not the best psychologist when it comes to comforting someone, I should have studied economics, by the way, but I can, I don't know, give you a hug... Just open, please."

About five seconds later, Jinah heard the lock mechanisms creaking softly. The door opened and a detonated Changbin — without exaggeration — appeared with the shadow of a smile on his parched lips. Jinah seemed to have a knack for awakening something good, no matter how small, even in someone who was having a bad day, that was amazing.

— "You needn't have come here." — his voice was hoarse and ragged from the continuous crying hours ago.

— "I go out for one night and when I get back half of your clothes are gone from the closet." — Jinah looked at the untouched bags in the corner of the room and closed the door again after entering the slightly dark room. — "What else did you want me to do?"

— "I couldn't stay there." — Changbin sat on the bed, which he spent most of the day lying, in blankets. — "It became very suffocating all of a sudden."

— "Chan said you were pretty cold" — Jinah sat down too, getting ahead of the boy. — "But I look at you now and I can only see an abandoned puppy, what happened?"

Changbin narrowly didn't smile a second time.

— "I don't trust myself when it comes to Jade. There is a part that is so, but so stupid, it almost softened when she started crying like that. I have to keep braking those emotions, otherwise they can run down my fingers, and I don't want."

— "Definitely?"

— "...Perhaps."

Jinah paused for a moment before continuing: — "I don't want you to think I'm just saying that because I stood by her, I'm by both of you, but we have a list of events that prove that Jade's head has only one neuron left when she drinks, all the rest burn."

— "I know, JinJin" — Changbin squeezed his temples, his head throbbing. — "If it was anyone else, it would be a little easier to digest, but it was Josh. That's the worst part. I feel like committing a murder whenever I remember."

— "I don't think it would happen if it was someone else" — Jinah shrugged. — "Jade trusted him, and he took advantage of it. Or do you think that, if he came in and simply asked for a kiss, Jade, being with you, would accept it in a good way?"

— "...I think not."

— "But I'm sure" — Jieun was so crystal clear that the years gave Jinah the opportunity to know her as the palm of her hand, Choi knew what she was saying. — "Anyway, I also understand how you are feeling right now. It's not easy to see the person you love kissing the person you hate."

— "The truth is, I have no idea what to do or think." — Changbin ran his hands over his face and stared at the dark sheet. — "I need some time."

— "Sure." — Jinah came over and hugged him, even though she knew he didn't much like any physical contact that didn't come from Jade, but, right now, complaining was the last thing Seo could do. — "Just don't forget that I'm here for whatever you need."

— "Me too, JinJin" — and that's when Changbin's real smile finally came out.

♡˖°

For the first time in Jisung's life, shopping with his mother wasn't that unpleasant — partly because most of the mall's stores were closed; otherwise, perhaps he could not say the same. After having lunch at a tidy restaurant and Hyoyeon chattering about parties and the possible new boyfriend she had met last month — sometimes, Jisung thought she mistook him for a best friend, it wasn't possible! —, the two decided to walk aimlessly to finish catching up.

— "Forgiving her was very mature of you,"— she said after Jisung had told her how the situation between Chaerin and him had unfolded after the catastrophe. It was funny, in part, for almost six months had passed, and only now was Hyoyeon finding out, but better late than never. — "I confess that this is not an attitude I would take, so I am proud."

— "Thanks. But would you mind if I asked us not to talk about Chaerin anymore?"

— "Does it still hurt you?"

— "No, just not important."

— "So, since you want to talk about important things," — she flashed that kind of meaningful smile that the boy usually felt worried about, — "let's talk about your cute girlfriend. How did you meet her?"

A dialogue in which Jisung summarized facts and told as well as possible how Jinah had entered his life began, and Hyoyeon could only nod, smile and make strange sounds whenever something cute in her point of view was mentioned. At least Han and Choi wouldn't have to go through all the embarrassment of incompatible mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, since with every "a" he said, his mother became increasingly in love with his girlfriend.

— "You could make dinner for the three of us this week, right?" — she said excitedly as soon as the report came to an end. — "Today I didn't even have time to talk to her properly, I wanted to get to know her better."

— "Only if you promise not to embarrass me as you always do."

— "Right."

It wasn't as if Jisung would believe it, of course, but it wasn't as if he could change her mind. Hyoyeon was very stressful when activating her persuasive mode, she preferred to avoid her own wear. Besides, she would have to socialize with Jinah anyway, so it was better for now.

— "But you don't have to invent something very elaborate, 'cause she doesn't like it. We study and work all day and the last thing we want to do when we get home is go to one of those fine restaurants you love."

— "Okay, whatever you want" — if Hyoyeon was upset that her plans were destroyed, she didn't show it. — "It reminded me that I'm going to be alone every day while you're not home, how boring. I have to invent something to do, otherwise I'm going to die of boredom."

Jisung went on alert. Empty house, boredom and Hyoyeon definitely didn't match in the same sentence. Arrangements had to be made, starting with bringing her back to the virtual world — who knows, perhaps, she didn't care as much about physics and disasters as brightly painted walls and props everywhere didn't occur.

— "You need a new charger, don't you?"

— "Oh, yeah, but we won't find a store open on Sunday."

Jisung mentally cursed that unfortunate fact, and as he was about to offer her his own charger, he noticed that the door of the electronics store he used to work in before starting his internship at the publishing house was open. He frowned, even thinking it might be a robbery, after all, that place barely opened on Saturdays, got worse on Sundays. As they got closer, however, Jisung realized that it was Jeonghan inside. Jeonghan was robbing the store?

— "Em... Hi?" — curiosity was as big as the intrinsic desire to seize the opportunity and buy the damn charger.

As soon as Jeonghan saw him, something extraordinary and equally strange happened: Yoon grinned from ear to ear, and replied cheerfully: — "Hi, Jisung! How long!"

Han raised his eyebrows, barely able to hide his surprise. So many years of working together, and this was the first time he had seen this boy look genuinely happy. Even his skin looked brighter; his angelic features were free of the usual bad mood and his voice free of any sign of boredom. It was almost as impressive as his mother being, in fact, a mother. Miracles happen.

— "Yeah, sure. What are you doing here today?"

— "We're having a movie shoot at home, but my dog ‘accidentally’ ruined one of the television cables and we came for another one." — Jeonghan pointed to the two boys that Jisung only then noticed. He recognized them as Jisoo and Seungcheol, the new store employees. The first boy held the cable while helping the second to choose, too, one of the new games (it is noteworthy that they were paying for everything and that idea of the robbery was just a mistake).

— "Didn't you say working with them was going to be hell?" — Jisung smiled rogue. — "Apparently, you guys are already good friends."

— "Yeah," — Jeonghan chuckled and ran a hand over the back of his neck. He didn't have much left after contradicting himself. — "But we're not exactly good friends."

It took Jisung a few seconds to process the information, his eyes widening when he finally got it.

— "You three-...?" — Han didn't need to finish, as Jeonghan quickly nodded. — "Jeez... I mean, congratulations. You look happier."

— "You too, if you allow me to say."

— "Thanks, I think" — Jisung smiled. So astonished that he was, he had forgotten that his mother was there and, when he turned to look for her, he found her playing with a puppy in the same spot as before. The pet owner was a short-haired girl who seemed to have fun with whatever Hyoyeon was saying. — "Can you sell me a charger? It's urgent."

— "Of course!"

And while choosing a charger model and looking at his mother through the clear glass of the storefront, Jisung found himself liking — much more than he had expected — the idea of having her around again.

a/n: i love jinhancheol, sorry

but anyway, i’ll be posting today the introduction and the first chapter of ‘Listen To Me’ first spin-off AAAAAAAAAAAAAA, I really hope u guys like it. ily, see you guys soon!

16 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Anaticula Pt 24

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 22 - Pt 23 -

Summer break. The first day seemed to go well. After a ride home from the packed station you saw along the way the great number of titles surrounding the year in Hogwarts and wonders at what this summer would bring. The brilliant takedown of a secretive Corporation R that had plotted to unleash the creatures and curses trapped in those vaults on the students of Hogwarts. The one to draw the largest reaction from you was the one titled, ‘Swept Up and Tucked Away!’ The image under the title was a caricature of Fudge sweeping up small doodles of your duel and taming of the creatures in the school under a thick rug with the words ‘The Black Plague- Dangerous - DO NOT SHIFT’ off to the sides were scribble of word bubbles reading, ‘Shhh!’

Shaking your head you continued past the news stand only to pause at the paper offered to you with a golden ink filled quill you gladly signed for the Wizard who grinned for the picture his nephew. Revealed, when you blinked the spots from your eyes, to be Collin with a smaller version of himself at his side waving up at you before stealing a picture of Harry beside you. The pair darted off with their Uncle leaving you to be wrapped under Regulus’ arm to guide you back to the path out to the bus taking you back to the Grimmauld place entrance of your home while Remus guided Harry back to the Dursleys.

No matter the trouble of your last summer right off you were again met with a list of places you would travel through Europe to gain more supplies for antidotes. By day you trekked through the wilds with the twins, nights however in your tent you would sit up reading through your frequent streams of letters.

Harry’s about how the first week of his trip was going with the visit of Vernon’s sister Marge.

Percy’s came with news on his offered internship in the Ministry for after his final year he hoped he could use to get close to Fudge in hopes of helping you somehow.

Hermione’s came with news of her own summer break in Paris with her grandparents to further her language and musical studies. A trip meaning she would have to leave Crookshanks at your home until school began again.

Ginny’s posed a new dilemma, questions of dates she could go on with Dean, who she was supposed to be supervised by Bill in his month long vacation between treasure hunting trips. Though in his own he couldn’t be too much trouble but as any older brother he was set on ensuring his baby sister was well protected and set on ensuring she remained so. A task Ron decided to join in on, hence the letters, pleas to you to see if you could calm their protective natures.

Neville and Draco’s were chalk full of ideas they hoped to get done through the summer break before heading back to school again.

Swinging around from a trip to the outskirts of Greece just as you made it to your bed in the Wizard Hostel you had gotten a room in a folded pig message from Percy your head turned to grab the letter unfolding at its last oink. Giggling to yourself you turned over on your bed relaying to the guys, “Harry blew up Uncle Vernon’s sister Marge.”

George laughed out loud as Fred snorted into his pillow through Regulus’ chortle through the bathroom door. Continuing on you read, “He took the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron, Remus had to go get him. Apparently Fudge wanted to tell him he was being given a warning himself.”

George, “Ooh, bet that was a cheery conversation.”

Stretching out in your cot next to Regulus’ you set the letter down and hugged your pillow under your head as you closed your eyes, “Bet Petunia will be thrilled at having to keep that to herself after they obliviated Marge. Heard from Harry even she can barely stand Marge.”

Fred chuckled and sighed out, “Well, we’ll be home before Thursday if all goes as planned.”

July 30th rolled around and as usual for Neville’s birthday you made sure he got his favorite lunch and cake and joined him in a day at the movies to give him some alone time with you. Draco decided to tag along with Ron, and Harry in their hunt for Gnomes at the Hollow to help out Molly with her garden.

The next day had Harry’s birthday, which had him and the kids rushing to the movies themselves in your day at the Hollow helping Molly to prep the family dinner while she focused on her levitating marvel of a cake. Though your mind in the numbing chopping and stewing of veggies raced back to your letter from Peter that Riddle was still alive but very close to death. Still, he remained in the safe house keeping Riddle hidden and his tiny frail body alive unwilling to harm something so helpless no matter how evil the creature could grow to be.

The longer your mind lingered on it the darker your hair grew, splitting through your racing thoughts Molly’s voice sounded in concern, “Jaqi?” Instantly your eyes jumped to hers and you heard her ask at your hair shifting back to silvery blue with a curious grin, “Where did you roam off to?”

“Oh. Grindlewald.” Her lips parted and you shook your head, “Nothing like that. Just, I was looking up this ring, I found, in the library I found a journal and it had a note between Dumbledore and Grindlewald.”

Molly nodded, “Oh that,” releasing a calming breath, “From what we know, they were friends growing up, though Grindlewald went to Durmstrang. Dumbledore was the only Wizard he ever feared.”

“Because they knew each other so well?” She nodded, “From what I hear only Grindlewald was worse than Riddle.”

Molly huffed, “Oh, now, I don’t mean to shock you but, I would have to say,” her eyes wandered to the door ensuring you were alone still then back to you, “Grindelwald never did half the atrocious things Riddle did. All without reason, Riddle was selfish and hated that he was hated by his family, attacked children, infants no less. Yes Grindelwald picked up the worst of the worst but, he had standards.”

“Hypothetically, if Grindelwald broke free-,”

Molly scoffed turning to grab some more food coloring, “He would mop the floor with Riddle. Wouldn’t so much as be able to lift his wand.” Her eyes twitched up to yours and she froze for a moment then moved closer to you tapping her fingers under your chin, “I understand you’re scared. Rightly so. None can tell how fate will lead us about. Let’s hope we never have to let that monster out of his cage.” You nodded and she said, “Things will look up.” Moving back to her former place she added, “You will see.”

By the next Monday you were off again and promised to meet with Bernadette on the tail end of your trip to Brazil for some tea. The whole day you four spent with her reliving the years she had shared with your mother, complete with a set of copies for the shows they had done together in the summers before you were born to add to your collection. A box of pictures too were added to your arms after the tight hug she gave you, once again reminding you that any mother would be proud of you for all you had done. Aiding in the growing freedom of the Lycans in the Western Wizarding World and for all you had done the year prior.

One more train ride, where you started to feel you were living in these days outside of school, and you were home again. Not a minute after your bags hit the ground you turned to exit your room after changing your tank top and flannel shirt before meeting Ginny in the hall for the walk down to breakfast. Just back from the family trip to Egypt, on which you dropped the twins off for a few days with their family to give you another day to head off over to New Zealand, where you met up with your father, Neville and Draco for a weekend trip of your own.

Molly had spent the night before working in the Ministry so your Uncles were tasked with parenting your brood and breakfast. Her path crossed yours on her late return in her groggy pace to her seat at the end of the table beside Arthur who gave her a sleepy grin and slid her coffee he had brewed for her closer to her reach while you dropped into your seat. Reaching out you grabbed your empty glass, smoothing your finger along the rim to fill it with apple juice in your dad’s carrying out the first helping of breakfast in the arrival of the younger kids and Percy.

Seats filled and in the emptying of plates your eyes rose to the pair of owls arriving, yours swooped around your head dropping your letters before landing on the back of your chair as Percy reached out to grab Errol from his crash landing into the table. Settling her on the back of his chair he eyed the letters and passed them out, “Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George.” Keeping the last for himself.

Wetting your lips you eyed your letters you passed out, “Harry, Draco and Neville.” Keeping yours in your hand you turned over and broke the seal to pull out the list of required supplies only to find an extra letter.

Wiggling in his seat Percy chuckled and flashed the small pin included in his letter, “Yes! I’m Head Boy!” The cheer or clap he had expected from you didn’t come as you and the twins stared at your letter making him ask, “Jaqi, what’s wrong?” Drawing all eyes to you three.

Sirius, “Pumpkin?”

Turning your letter you handed to your dad you said, “Prefect.”

His brows furrowed while the twins swapped their letters to double check the contents then said, “Us too.”

Remus curtly laughed and covered his face for a moment while Sirius burst into giggles as Ginny asked, “Didn’t you have detention most of the year?”

You three nodded, “Yup.”

Remus chuckled as Sirius passed you back your letter, “They did the same with Remus being jumped over by for Head Boy. Merlin knows he didn’t recognize the rules. You are influential.”

Regulus, “Plus, you’re already up most of the night patrolling anyways.”

You looked to Percy, who was grinning at you widely as you said, “Congrats Percy.”

Percy, “Same to you. Glad to have you three on the crew.”

Sirius’ grin spread and he kept looking over at Remus who sharply said, “Stop it.”

Regulus chuckled saying, “Oh now, come on, share the good news.”

Your eyes all turned to the pair while Remus answered, “I suppose I have to now!” His eyes turned to look over you all before he said, “Well, it appears, I, um, well, I suppose I should say-,”

Sirius rolled his eyes saying giddily, “He’s your new DA Professor!”

Remus rolled his eyes through Sirius’ side hug and peck on the cheek in Regulus’ pat on the back while you all cheered and clapped for Remus as Ron said, “Finally, a Professor we can learn from.”

Harry, “In Defense at least. Please don’t tell McGonagall he said that.”

Remus ginned shaking his head, “Oh, I would never do that.” He looked to you, “It seems with my new position I will be needing a supply of things so I will be escorting you all through your shopping.”

Allowing Molly to nap the younger kids joined you all off through the muggle streets making your way to the Leaky Cauldron that you passed through entering Diagon Alley. Each shop nearly was stopped in and while Remus made a stop in at Knockturn Alley you and the twins eyed the continually bare corner shop that kept drawing your eye. Supposedly one of the most expensive spots up for purchase another magical tea shop had their eye on for a third branch, but since your first trip by it two years prior the owner, a distant cousin of your father’s who caught your interest. His pure hatred of those so called ‘dim witted doily shops’ had him taking an instant interest in why you, his most famous relative alive, were interested.

One brunch at the Leaky Cauldron was all it took when he saw your future plans for the shop of your dreams, obscure lists of dreamed up products and potions yet to be perfected for sale from a trio of teenagers still in their early years of schooling. That felt right to him, so a bargain was set. He would keep to his bare minimum sales in the obscure furniture shop until you were legally old enough to take it off his hands, insisting you were the only one he would sell to. A promise he secured with a binding magical contract witnessed by Sirius and Regulus who were also eager to see what you could do with it.

Fred, “Corner shop, 93, brilliant number.” He said eyeing the lilac fading paint along the sides.

George, “It’ll need a new coat or three.”

He smirked joining Fred in looking at you, “Keeping the purple of course.”

You nodded and giggled pulling out your shrinking journal for the shop ideas that grew as you opened it to the page with a moving doodle across the page making them both grin when they looked at it, “Thought this up for over the door.”

At their shared grinning face and an arm extending to raise a top hat with a bunny underneath they both replied, “Brilliant!” Both staring at the yellow and orange logo you had decided on, “Weasley Wizard Wheezes.” All in a circle with a silhouette of the boys on either side of you with your arms on their shoulders with theirs around your middle and their feet spread apart to touch one of each to yours forming a trio of W’s for a subtler logo on the smaller packages and products.

Fred, “And of course the bunny will have to have purple eyes and color changing fur, maybe based on the weather.”

George, “If you’re trying to hide in plain sight we should at least leave a hint or two.”

You giggled and closed the book as Harry furrowed his brows peering up at the building, “Why do you keep staring at this building each time we pass it?”

The three of you replied, “It’s gonna be ours.”

He looked at it again, “What would you want with that shop for?”

Your brow inched up and Ron said, “Doubt they’ll ever sell it. Heard from the shop keep down the way he’s turned away hundreds of offers. Even one for 500 galleons over the book value.”

Harry, “What would you want to sell furniture for?”

At that you giggled and Remus arrived again with a grin saying, “Alright you lot, back to the Cauldron for lunch and then back to the house. I know you’ve got the evening planned on sorting out your trunks.”

Ginny, “We’ve still got a week yet.”

Remus chuckled stealing a glance back at you, “Some of you have a larger selection to choose from.” Making her giggle as you rolled your eyes as the twins both took another look at your chosen floor plans for the three story shop with a hidden basement opening under the floor of the store room formerly used as a bomb bunker from the Second World War, similar to those in each of the shops around it. Percy especially in the distracted conversations of the younger teens, along with Draco and Neville stole peeks at your design for the store front and sent you silent agreeing smiles.

…

“Andrew Ser?” Unfolding the Daily Prophet Percy was reading the back of, you stood facing one another in an awkward seeming deadlock with separate ends of the paper in hand to read your decided stories. “Dad!” Sirius leaned into view in the doorway adjusting his tie with a bagel between his lips, “Have you read this?”

He eyes the title of the story you had flipped to the second portion of, pulling the bagel out of his mouth, “Ah, ya, Andy, he’s been on about me for years. Determined to crack the case.”

Your head turned, “He’s trying to say you’re some sort of criminal. Says you’ve been hiding out at Hogwarts.”

Sirius nodded with a smirk at you, “Last year he said I was in the Bahamas. He always looses his wind eventually.”

“Says he’s gotten permission to search the school from Fudge.”

Remus chuckled, “As if we might have missed him last year.”

“Says he heard from Dolph he said he saw you.”

Sirius nodded, “Either way, he bothers you and you let us know.” You nodded and he moved closer cupping your cheek to kiss the other, “I’ll not have anyone bothering you over me. He’s no reason to pester you.”

You sighed, “Haven’t you heard, the Black Plague is rampant in Hogwarts?”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, in anger over the term concerning you and not your using it even in jest, “You are not a plague and have done nothing to deserve anyone’s mistrust.”

…

“Ah, who have we here?” Tilting your hat back your brow raised to the curly haired man with salt and pepper stubble standing just a few inches taller than you in your heels yet shorter than the twins around you who were both crossing their post growth spurt toned gangly arms over their chests at his puffed up smirk looking you over. At once you felt your blood boiling and exhaled slowly forcing yourself not to shift in the main lot to King’s Cross Station for enchanted vehicles. Avoiding a conflict you brushed your fingertips along the handle of your trunk at your side while you reminded yourself that you still were under probation for fighting at school and punching an Auror out of defending yourself would be severely frowned upon. “Young Miss Black. I do hope we can get to know one another better this year.”

Flatly you replied, “I’m not supposed to talk to strange Aurors.” His lips parted and you said, “If you want to get to know me I’ll have to get you cleared with Alastor Moody first.” Moving around him you shifted the bag holding Crookshanks across your back and steadied your owl’s cage in your other hand then stepped around him spreading the smirk on Remus’ face.

Straight to the new Professor Andrew Ser’s eyes shot in a fiery glare only making Remus chuckle, “Don’t blame me rules are rules. No telling who could be trying to cozy up to our dear girl here. Now, sod off, we’ve a train to catch.” Brushing past himself joining the line of teens in claiming trolleys for your luggage, continuing on as a group that grew a bit larger at Hermione’s trot over to claim hugs from you all in sharing a brief recap of her summer until you reached the barrier.

…

Passing over Crookshanks to Hermione you grinned adjusting your jacket over your t shirt and shredded jeans showing glimpses of the color changing orbs above a dragon with a Witches hat brewing up a potion across your knee high socks. The design matching the color changing style of the toads across the twins’ socks. Visible when they propped up a leg each to form a makeshift table for their latest series of sketches for the wrappers and packages for your recently perfected products. Soon you would be beginning to mingle together in a sort of ‘Sick Pass’ you had chosen to call Skiving Snackbox. Starting out with a simple based on teens market you would be easily be able to sell among fellow students.

Already you had the Lycan market covered with antivenoms as well. Of course the twins insisted you have a section devoted to uses for the various venoms you could collect for each of them, along with a possible chance to add in a few snake themed toys to ease worries of those with phobias of the usually misunderstood creatures. And with your connection to Dragon Tamers you could easily find protective garb for them and specialize burn creams and additional tries to mend scars as well.

Across from them you stared at the notepad on your lap while Cedric tried to restitch his buttons back onto his robes when his baby cousin had accidentally tugged them free admiring the Puff crest on them. Slowly your silver eyes danced across the page in your detailing an idyllic scene of you having tea with your blonde strangers while a morpher infant sat in the garden below playing with a group of bunnies and a goat. Blinking the finished image into focus you caught Cedric’s tilted head awkwardly craning his neck that snapped back in his stabbing his finger, “Ow!” raising his blood tipped finger to his lips he turned his head saying with a grin as the twins peered up at you, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap you out of it.”

You shook your head taking the robe from him in return for the pad he inspected, “It seems I will be having tea with the mystery blondes and their friends, with a baby too.”

The twins set aside their sketch pads to shift over around Cedric as you righted the final button in their taking in each detail of the gently shifting image of the serious men and the boy’s giggling while you raised and lowered your cups for sips. “Woah. Any other images?”

Cedric flipped through finding more of their simply staring at you with one with paler hair atop a massive elk across from the other blonde holding a trio of dark haired boys through a lunch beside you holding the baby again. A snort came from Cedric, “Wow, you will be a baby making machine.”

Giggling to yourself you handed him back the finished jacket and put away his needle and thread, “Thank you. Though from the feeling I get, I think they’re adopted.”

Twins, “Still adorable. Four boys. Lot of work.” Making you giggle again.

Cedric, “You will be a wonderful Mum.”

“Thank you.” Accepting your pad back to close it and put it away to bring out the enchanted one you used to converse with Alastor making you sigh seeing the note you had written about Andrew still unanswered. Closing that you set it aside back in your bag, “Still nothing from Alastor.”

Cedric, “I doubt it could be like Patricia and Dolph again.”

George, “Dumbledore won’t let that happen twice.”

You nodded and eyed Cedric’s ledger from his father marking out proper times to prep for this year, at the end of which you would be sitting for your OWLS, he eyed the pages saying, “Dad hasn’t left much room. Down to the week on what to study and when.”

You chuckled and said with the Twins, “We’ll be up to speed in no time.”

Cedric chuckled saying, “No worries there. We’ve had tons of practice helping your older brothers and Tonks with theirs. Only problem is, knowing if this year is going to be like the last few distracting us all.” He wet his lips , “Any clue on who our new Professor is?”

You grinned saying, “Uncle Remus.”

Earning a chuckle from Cedric, “No worries there then. Should get some refreshers for what we should have learned last year easily enough.” Making you all chuckle again until Percy opened the door to your car with a quick grin to give you your assigned times to patrol the cars on the set timetable for all the prefects.

A song on the mastery of words came from the Sorting Hat, followed by a performance from you alongside the rest of the choir and enlarged Choir Frogs. Grins spread across the clapping students and Professors in the hall. In your seat at the Puff table you waited for Dumbledore to stand next calling out, “Welcome, welcome first years and a big welcome back to everyone else. For a few start of term notices, those of you who were here last year are aware that Professor Kettleburn has retired to keep what time he has left to, and to take his place this year will be none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid.”

The hall erupted into a wave of cheers and a subtle round of scoffs and jeers from the Slytherin table. “And as for our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor R.J Lupin back among us to fill that position. Good luck Professor.” Chuckles rippled through the room while your head tilted seeing the black Irish wolfhound seated by Remus’ side he was patting the head of. “Finally on a more telling note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban.”

After a series of whispers he continued with a far from serious expression in a sort of ‘let us all play along’ glance over you all, “Until such a time Sirius Black is captured,” all eyes shifted to you then back again, “the Dementors will be stationed at every entrance on the grounds. Or else I am assured that their presence will not disrupt our day to day activities. A word of caution. For our first years, Dementors are vicious creatures, they will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who stands in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving.” His hands rose, “But you know, happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times.” His hand waved by his candle on the podium pulling it out, and then back again lighting it again, “If only one remembers to turn on the light.”

In the muddle of out crying students rising to your defense his hand rose again, “Quiet, quiet down now. You and I are comfortably aware of the truth to this matter. However,” a glint of humor flashed back in his eyes, “We must as always humor the matter until others are at comfort that there is no harm coming to the students of these halls. Fear and ignorance have been the downfall of many. To overcome those, we must all practice our tolerance, those unable to understand this lesson simply take notice of our own Miss Black, who is becoming quite adept at wading through that tricky stream.” His hands clapped, “Now, let us eat.”

Wetting your lips you caught Remus’ comforting nod you returned the nod and turned to your dinner you filled your plate with a full supply you dug into forcing your attentions to the conversing teens around you instead of looking around at those still irritated at this useless search. Shifting in your seat you drew in a breath then turned in your seat finding Harry already staring at you, forcing a grin on his face he eyed the slip of paper you held out to him he claimed with a pleased chuckle, “Petunia got a bit distracted. Sent this along with her letter.”

His mouth fell open eyeing the signed slip to go to Hogsmeade, “She signed it?!” his eyes rose to you, “How’d you manage this?”

You shook your head, “Didn’t. You gave it to her, she chose to sign it.”

Harry shook his head, “I still think you must have bewitched her or something.”

You shook yours again, “Must be the usual, look like Mum. 2nd chance and all that.” Turning back again his brows furrowed looking you over as your hair began to turn black from root to tip urging the twins to snuggle closer to your sides at your stabbing a piece of your food trying to focus on that to stop your mind from racing off to all those years ago.

In the end of your meal you stood along with the other prefects to guide your assigned groups of first years once the others had gone off to bed. Grins spread on the faces of those in your group eagerly following you along through the halls and dungeons through the safest path to the dormitory they all comfortably settled into when you had shown them the ways to discover their own assigned rooms. The first years were safely tucked away, and in the tower above the Library Percy and the chosen Head Girl Penelope from this year had settled into their assigned apartment, both hoping for some peace and quiet from their usually noisy dorms for their final exams off in June.

Potions 8

Charms 9

Transfigurations 10

DADA 11

Break 12

Lunch 1

Break 2

Herbology Mon, Wed, Fri 3

Magical Creatures 4

Ancient Runes 5

Break 6

Dinner 7:30

History of magic 8

Arithmacy Mon, Wed, Fri 8 Not w/ cedric

Curfew 9 (Time Turner for Arithmacy)

Choir 10

Your schedule for the following day set out pretty simply and without much cause for concern. One by one you made it through your courses and with an enjoyable lesson from Remus and down at 8pm you were elated to see the proud tan Hippogriff, who took a jaunty strut through your class straight for you to nudge you giggling between the twins and Cedric over to the clearing behind it. Laughing heartily Hagrid paused his lesson and guided you all over. “One more thing, ‘spose now would be the best time. Over the summer Arturo here and his mate, who is still off on her yearly molt, had their own cub.” He made his own fanfair music and waved his hand to the proud grey speckled Hippogriff posing with a confident squawk that died at his eyes falling to you four at Arturo’s squawking introduction of you all drawing the timid cub closer to you.

First you were nudged forward to give a nice bow the smirking cub fluffed his wings up and shifted on his feet for the perfect stance for his first bow he then gave to you. Giggling softly you rose up as he did then folded your arms around his neck at his head nuzzling into your chest. “He is adorable Hagrid.” You giggled out smoothing your fingers around the base of his head making him give a content hum in the drooping of his eyes. Next the boys took their own turn and you gave Arturo some attention of his own through Hagrid continuing his lesson plan after summoning his set up projector and blankets you all settled on with the Hippogriffs lounging beside you.

Each night through the assigned patrols the wide group of Prefects were divided. Thankfully you were off this night allowing you a chance to sleep deeply after downing a dreamless draught to help you sleep without waking up in tears, a task even Idris couldn’t aid you with avoiding with his finest song. Soundly on your back you slept with Opal nuzzled against your shoulder and head to calm her own worries at her sensing something was going on with you.

Potions 8

Charms 9

Transfigurations 10

DADA 11

Break 12

Lunch 1

Break 2

Muggle Studies Sun, Tue, Sat 3 Not w/ cedric

Magical Creatures 4

Divinations Son, Tue, Sat 5 Not w/ cedric

Ancient Runes 5

Break 6 (Time Turner for Divinations)

Dinner 7:30

History of magic 8

Curfew 9

Choir 10

Your second day went well and in each again you were reminded how important this year was in the courses you had not seen the day before and given yet another stack of lesson plans listing each assignment in advance to grant those that are willing to work ahead for full credit to manage study times better. Your noon break was always kept for the RoR club, now growing in number with your fellow 5th years to get all the practice you could get. It wasn’t until your break at 6, once you had gone back to Divinations you could go back to your dorm to sit and look at this new selection of assignments. Just like the others you would go through ranking each and the simplest of each on your weekends you would try to complete beforehand to grant yourself a lighter load.

…

Magical Creatures, something about it today made your skin crawl, and halfway down the path to the course you eyed Andrew Ser. A cocky grin split across his face in his path straight for you, one that dropped as you nodded your head with a smirk of your own, “Mr Ser.”

His body turned for him to say, “Miss Black!”

Your hand rose to wave blindly back at him, “Can’t talk, have to get to class!”

More and more he would integrate himself into your schedule leading to your remaining inside your dorm or chosen corner of the library to focus on this stack of assignments you would complete and file in order tucked in a series of folders inside a folding file holder to aid you in turning them in on time. Three weeks you settled into this plan getting the majority of the easiest and basic outlines for the worst of them.

Pt 25

10 notes · View notes

bunnis-babes · 5 years

Note

Hawks/Todoroki/Kirishima/Dabi with a terminally ill s/o that is constantly in and out of hospital and needs constant supervision incase their health deteriorates quickly. (Lmao I'm back and with angst)

I don’t know if this is good or not lol.

Hawks’ s/o isn’t really terminally Ill, but they are extremely sick and I couldn’t fit in Dabi.

Hawks

🦃He met them after a pretty brutal fight with a villain. He was forced to stay in the hospital for his own safety for around a week before he was allowed to go back to working.

🦃They just so happened to have the hospital room next to his, and visited him after they learned he would be there for a bit, always willing to help out a new patient.

🦃They showed him around and were his only real company through his entire time there.

🦃He quickly learned that they were commonly in the hospital, due to their illness. He couldn’t help, but feel drawn to them and their optimistic outlook and kindness despite everything.

🦃So even after he was released he kept visiting them, bringing them little trinkets and things that reminded him of them.

🦃He was always supportive of them and became a sort of rock when they needed it. Their family loved him as well, such a handsome man showering their beloved family member with so much attention was very appreciated among all the family members.

🦃Eventually, and inevitably, Hawks found himself falling in love with them; from the way their eyes lit up when he visited, to the way they opened up to him about almost everything.

🦃This started to show through his actions, helping to pay for their hospital bills and medication, visiting them more often, he even started buying way more expensive gifts for them.

🦃They noticed this, of course they noticed his sudden change in attitude from friendly to loving. They were quick to point it out to him, and he was quick to confess. Hawks never was one to hold back when his emotions were this strong for an individual.

🦃So the relationship begun, and it was a good one too.

🦃Hawks constantly was on them about taking medication, eating right, watching what they were doing. It was extremely adorable.

🦃He checked up on them as the day went on, sending members of his agency to check up on them at times even.

🦃When they were having a particularly bad day, unable to leave their hospital room or even bed, those were the days he was truly a mess.

🦃He constantly called them asking how they were doing, he would stay the night in their room. His wings were ruffled and his body would always be tense, but he would relax at the calming sound of their voice.

🦃He didn’t really let them do much on their own at all, always making sure they barely lifted a finger despite their protests. They drew the line when he tried to feed them, they weren’t a baby Hawks.

🦃Really he’s just worried.

🦃God, he’s such a mother hen.

Kirishima

🍒They were Kirishimas childhood friend, and they were healthy at one point. When they were younger they were always by Kirishima’s side, rough housing with him and just being a kid. They grew up side by side, right until the start of high school, when their health took a turn for the worse.

🍒Kirishima had no idea that they had been put into a hospital, too occupied with UA to be able to talk to them. The only contact the two had was through text, and they didn’t want to be a burden on Kirishima. It never really came up because of that.

🍒They had been in the hospital for a few months before Kirishima was even told what had happened to them. Then he got to see them, and the sight of them broke his heart.

🍒His once extremely strong and confident friend was laying in a hospital bed, weak and broken and obviously scared. He didn’t say anything at first, just sitting silently with them for a bit as the situation sunk in.

🍒”I should’ve told you.” They broke the silence, voice shaky and filled with regret. And Kirishima just hugged them, that’s all he needed to do to tell them how he felt. Yet he felt almost obligated to let out a long awaited,

“I love you, and I’m just glad I know now.”

🍒”You’re so cheesy Ei.”

“I’m not cheesy! I’m manly!”

🍒The boy is extremely protective of them, but not to the point where he is overbearing. He just was always checking in on them every time he could, helping where he could and being a constant rock to lean on for them.

🍒He buys them little things to decorate their hospital room and is just a little ball of sunshine to cheer them up.

🍒And then there was the devastating news that they only had 2 years to live. Kirishima learned in the middle of class, and was permitted to leave, all the way to the hospital his heart was beating so hard.

🍒Was he crying, when did he start crying? Well that. Didn’t matter, not when he saw them. They were surrounded by family curled in on themselves sobbing. Kirishima quickly ran up to them and wrapped them up in a reassuring hug, and their family left leaving only the two.

🍒They stayed hugging for a while, taking in each other presence and comfort. Kirishima took a breath, “I’ll be with you… I’ll be with you no matter what happens.”

A pause, then “So will I.”

🍒Kirishima was by their side, still being the light of their life, still being their strong rock.

🍒They lived long enough to see him graduate from UA, surprising everyone, including the doctors. They were able to come to his graduation, able to celebrate with him and meet his amazing friends in person, before the inevitable happened.

🍒Only a week after officially becoming FatGums sidekick, Kirishima was rushing himself to the hospital to say goodbye.

🍒He was able to make it to hear their last words, soft and shaky and forced out, but still there to reassure him “Don’t worry Eijirou, I’ll be with you.”

🍒Those last words, those last breaths given to him, they stuck with him for the rest of his life. They kept him moving forward, despite the pain that was held behind them.

🍒He was never able to find another lover, but he was able to move on from the moment and become stronger from the experience. He though of them everyday, and they were what kept him moving on.

Todoroki

❄️🔥He met them through his mom. They were sitting with her and chatting when he came to visit one day. His mother introduced the two of them and they hit it off— well, as well as Todoroki could “hit it off” with someone.

❄️🔥Turns out that they were with Todoroki’s mom when they weren’t bound to the hospital bed, so Todoroki saw a lot more of them, and wound up becoming close to them.

❄️🔥He appreciated the company they gave his mother, and their optimistic attitude. Turns out their illness took a heavy hit on their mental wellbeing, but they kept on moving and kept on making everyone else around them happy.

❄️🔥Todoroki felt himself falling for them more and more every time he was able to see them. Their caring personality, their ability to make him want to smile when they talked.

❄️🔥His mother was quick to notice, and called him out on it. He was flustered, but didn’t deny his mothers accusations, so she made it her own personal mission to get the two together.

❄️🔥She somehow managed to get the two to spend time alone, a lot of time alone. Todoroki found himself wanting to be alone with them and not only visiting his mom, but visiting them as well. Then they just asked him out, well to have lunch in their hospital room, but thats a technicality.

❄️🔥He found himself stressing abut what he looked like whenever he went to visit.

❄️🔥He’s so whipped for them, does anything hey ask, buys them literally anything they want or he thinks suits them. He loves to just cuddle them in their hospital bed and talk about whatever comes to their minds.

❄️🔥He gives them their freedom to do as they please, but he was like a helicopter parent. He watches everything they do carefully, making sure they don’t strain themselves or anything of the sorts.

❄️🔥Then the two of them learned their illness had developed into something deadly, and that they were only expected to live around two years more. The news was devastating to him, but he had to stay strong for them, though he did break down when he was alone.

❄️🔥Todoroki made sure the last few years they had together would be filled in with nothing but good memories. He was able to take them out, actually out, on a few dates. He was able to be around them more often than he thought he would be originally.

❄️🔥He was able to attend UA and they were able to watch him grow stronger and be more open with his emotions. Things were okay, even though they were growing weaker by the day.

❄️🔥Shouto was there when everything took a turn for the worst, and he was rushed out by the doctors. He was told to sit outside their room and wait, his mother joined him at some point. She rested a hand on his shoulder, she was trying to console him.

❄️🔥Then the doctors came out, and they were visibly upset. Todoroki knew that was nothing good, and then he was told they had already passed on despite the doctors best efforts to help them.

❄️🔥He almost couldn’t bear to enter the room, he didn’t want to see the blanket draped over their body. He didn’t want to see the machines that kept them alive turned off, but he had to say his last goodbyes.

❄️🔥He didn’t know when he started crying, most likely when he entered the room. He gently lifted the blanket covering them to reveal their pale lifeless face, still somehow holding the ghost of a smile.

❄️🔥He stood silent for a bit, looking down at them with an unreadable expression for a moment before breaking down into tears again. He held them close as he could before he was told they needed to be taken away. He placed a final kiss on their lips before they were carted away from him.

❄️🔥The funeral was difficult for him, but he got through it. He gave a simple speech about how much he loved them, how they changed his life for the better. Nothing extremely personal, no he left that in their casket.

❄️🔥He never really was able to move on from them or that final moment he saw them lying limp.

❄️🔥He keeps a picture of them with him everywhere he goes, and he looks at it whenever he has a tough day. He always thinks of their smile and it keeps him moving on day by day.

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

I Couldn’t fit in Dabi because fuck Tumblrs post limit, so you get Kiri, Shouto, and Hawks. I also hope I did good enough on this. It got emotional, but Idk if it’s emotional or if its just gross and cheesy. Well, this took way too long to write, but it’s been made for you so… yeah.

💙River💙

177 notes · View notes

writernotwaiting · 6 years

Text

Mis-Matched, Part 3

Oh my God! An update and it’s only been a couple of weeks! Sometimes miracles do occur.

Title: Mis-Matched Rating: M (this is subject to change at the whim of the author’s muses) Characters: Loki, Sigyn, Frigga, Theoric, and various supporting OCs Description: This is an attempt to fill the propmt requested by @someillplanetreigns (and now I can’t even tag you!): “you asked for prompts and pairings - I would like to humbly beg for more Logyn? I don’t have a great prompt, but this odd thought is in my head about a way to make the comic plot about Theoric and the marriage into something about marriage by proxy? Maybe something like Loki has the duty of proxy-marrying Sigyn cos Theoric’s in the army, and totally plays everyone by going the whole hog and appearing as Theoric, but then Sigyn, who thought Theoric was dull as ditchwater and Loki is… well, y’know, Loki.” I’m not sure this is precisely what you wanted, so I apologize in advance for my wayward muses – Loki does what he wants. Chapter: 3 of 4? Acknowledgements: thank you @icybluepenguin for serving as one of my favorite institgaors and sounding boards – you rock!

Part 1 Part 2 On Ao3

_______________________________

The morning was bright and clear as Frigga led her entourage out to the garden. Once there, the women divided themselves into little groups—one set going to sit in a shady arbor with their needlework while they took turns reading aloud to those who worked, another fanned out to care for the various plants, another group sat with sketch books taking botanical studies of rare plants.

Sigyn stood by and watched the women move with perfect assurance toward their tasks, then looked over at the queen inquisitively. “What would you prefer I do, your majesty?”

Frigga turned a smile onto the newest addition to her court. “What would you prefer, my dear?”

Sigyn balked at the question and felt her face flush. “I’m afraid I’m not altogether suited for any of these pursuits, ma’am. I never learned the finer points of needlework, or drawing—Herr Bragisson is a bachelor and hired no female tutor for me.”

“And gardening? The study of magic often involves the study of living things—herbology, and growing things.”

Sigyn’s blush grew darker and she began worrying at her cuticles. “I’ve never shown any affinity for live plants. Don’t misunderstand me—I know what to do with the plants after they’re harvested. I’ve read many books on the healing arts, and on potions. It’s just the growing of them that seems to elude me.” [read more cut below]

Frigga’s brows drew together. “I wonder how that could be. Your sensitivity seems very strong. What sort of magic seems to come most naturally, Sigyn? What were the first spells you could cast?”

Now Sigyn looked decidedly nervous, and Frigga placed a hand on her arm to soothe her. “It’s quite fine, dear. No one’s talent is ever exactly like anyone else’s—there no shame if yours is a little different than most.”

“Um, actually, I probably have the most ease with small pyrotechnics—you know, fireworks and light spells.”

“I see.” Frigga’s smile became a little sly. “Perhaps one of the reasons Herr Bragisson was so eager to see you placed with a spouse so soon.”

Sigyn laughed, a bit relieved to have the conversation turn. “Yes, undoubtedly! Prince Loki might have told you about the first time we met—I was actually wreaking havoc on one of the greenhouses. I certainly was never able to grow anything out there, so I took to using it as target practice.”

Frigga laughed. “I think he did mention something of the sort. Loki is always up for a bit of mischief himself.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes—she remembered his reaction vividly. “Yes, he certainly seemed to find it amusing.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure I have a need for anyone to redecorate my own greenhouses. We shall have to figure out something else for you to do. In the meanwhile, why don’t I show you around the gardens, and perhaps in the afternoon you could do a bit of searching in the library for me.”

Sigyn’s eyes lit up. “The library? Oh yes, I would very much enjoy that sort of errand!”

“Excellent, I’ll give you a list of things I would like you to hunt down for me, and you can let me know what you found out this evening after supper.”

It was a lie, of course--not a hugeone—fireworks were most definitely Sigyn’s secondfavorite spells, but there was no doubt that her greatest affinity was for fire magic. She could easily call flames out of anything, set fire to the wettest, greenest wood, make flames dance intricate patterns, hold white hot fireballs in her cupped palms. To admit this, however, was to admit who she was—what she was—and that was something she could never do, not if she wished to remain in Asgard. Her father and guardian had always made it quite clear—her mother had not been a citizen and Sigyn would not be welcome if that secret came out.

For her part, Frigga had detected a lie, she just didn’t know what it was covering over. It made no sense—they were just spells. Frigga, however, was nothing if not good at digging out the truth—it was a survival trait; her second son was Loki, after all. In fact, perhaps another discussion with him was in order, since he had spent over a week out in the country with Sigyn. Frigga liked her temporary charge, but there could be no secrets in cases like this. Not if a family alliance were a possibility.

Despite this little hitch, the queen really had meant it about the research, and drew up a list of topics for Sigyn to look into for her. After lunch, she gave her a data recorder, asked Gudren to show her to the library and introduce her to the archivist.

Early that afternoon, Loki came to check in with his mother, just to chat—what other motivation could he have? “Father’s locked in his office with the auditors this afternoon, and gave me permission to ‘follow my own pursuits,’” he intoned, imitating his father’s sonorous baritone.

Frigga pretended not to notice the sarcasm, nor to notice as his eyes scanned over the clusters of women at work. Instead, she took his arm and led him away from prying ears for a short turn through the arboretum. Once out of earshot, she patted his arm. “While you were out in the country, did you notice anything odd about Sigyn’s magic?”

“Her magic? No, why?”

“There were no spells that she seemed to have particular difficulty with? Things that went awry or got out of control?”

“No. If anything I’d have to say it was the opposite. It’s hard to believe she’s self taught. In fact, one morning she started to show me a fantastic fire spell, which is something I’ve never quite mastered. I was hoping to have her show me how, but she got called away.”

“Hmm. I was just curious. She tells me that she hasn’t quite mastered spells for growing plants and I just wondered if maybe she was just being modest.”

“I guess I couldn’t say. We never went into a garden.”

“Well, no matter.” Frigga smiled. “I sent her to the library this afternoon to collect some notes for me since there didn’t seem to be anything for her to help with here. She’s a bookish girl,” Frigga’s tone approving rather than dismissive, “I thought she might be able to ferret out a few obscure references for me. The archivist can point her toward the right texts.”

“Really? That should be something she would like.”

If his mother noticed that her son’s visit was a tiny bit shorter than usual, she was diplomatic enough not to say.

Loki found Sigyn easily enough at a large table toward the back of a side room, sun streaming through a window onto the text in front of her. Every competitive bone in his body suddenly came to life—he would not let Theoric take her home with him. It was unthinkable.

He sidled up to the table, and pulled a chair around. “So what sort of wild bilgesnipe has mother sent you after?”

Sigyn’s eyes went wide when she saw who her visitor was, then she smiled brightly, “oh it’s not that bad. She just wanted notes on these new herbs that some ambassador had brought from Alfheim, so the archivist pulled a couple of botanical references for me. I should be done long before supper. In fact I think I’ve got most of what I need already—I just need to do some cross-checking.”

“Hmmmm . . . just the sort of thing Theoric would enjoy talking about I’m sure.”

She snorted before she could catch herself, but then she schooled her face into neutrality and took a long look at Loki before she replied cautiously, “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that I can supervise the health of the household without consulting him on every detail.”

Loki could see the battle in her countenance, so he licked his lips and decided to gamble. “Especially since he wouldn’t know the answers, anyway.”

This threw Sigyn farther off balance, and she opted to deflect, “Yes, well, it’s good that I’ll be able to fill that role. I’ll be able to make myself useful.”

Loki barely contained a snort and tried hard not to roll his eyes, there’s a lofty goal for a marriage.

Instead, he drew his chair closer so he could get a better look at her text. “Which book is this, anyway?” He reached across Sigyn to pull the book closer and look at the title pages, brushing her arm in the process.

“Alfric’s herbology — I hadn’t seen it before. He’s very thorough.” She relaxes at the change in subject, and he hid a little smile.

“Did you already look at Sumerson?

“No, but the librarian pulled it for me. I was going to look at it next.” She pointed to the stack on the far end of the table.

“Good idea—they don’t always agree with one another.”

“Really?”

“No. They used to get in tremendous rows at guild meetings.”

Her eyes brightened again. “No! How do you know about that?”

“My tutor told me—both of them meticulous to a fault but with egos the size of Yggdrasil itself, apparently.”

“Oh gods, I would pay to see that!” She smiled openly now, catching his mischief.

“He said it was quite entertaining, as long as you could avoid getting dragged into the debate.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“Apparently they once went at it for a week about the classifications of square-stemmed plants and whether they constituted a family unto themselves, or should be divided into three separate ones.”

“Why that’s completely illogical—how could you divide mints into more than one family?”

“There you are! But they went at it for days. Sumerson went on and on about the chemical composition of the oils and the intoxicant effects of certain species on various species of felis, insisting that this set them apart from the rest of the group.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, obviously, but he very much sticks to detail, so it’s good you have both books.”

“So good of you to approve.” Sigyn’s eyes fairly danced now, and Loki was stopped cold by it, his gaze magnetized by her own for a long moment before it flitted over the rest of her face—forehead, cheeks, nose, lips. It was all Loki could do to keep himself from leaning in for a kiss.

Sigyn blushed hard, turning away to pull the book back in front of her and try to find her place again, all while trying desperately to ignore the fire in her skin that somehow made her painfully aware of the fabric of her clothing shifting over her skin, made her swallow hard and her heart beat fast.

She flinched when Loki’s hand covered her own, but didn’t pull away.

They sat in silence for several long minutes as his fingers roamed over the back of her hand, carefully outlining each knuckle and tracing the tendons down toward her wrist, while Sigyn’s face remained fixed on the far page. Once his fingers slid to the underside of her wrist, though, Sigyn balled up her fist and shook her head. Her voice came out small as her throat constricted, “I can’t.”

Loki kept his touch light over her skin, tried to keep his voice just as light, “Modal verbs are tricky things, don’t you think? Such small things—can’t, won’t.”

Sigyn’s other hand felt unsteady as it covered her mouth briefly and she squeezed her eyes shut. When her hand came back down, she forced a smile. “Those little words cause so much trouble.” She kept her eyes focused on the book, but he saw her fight for control, saw the tears that she blinked back before she next spoke in a quiet, bitter tone, “Little words like ‘I do’—they get in the way.”

She pulled her hand away from his to hide it in her lap.

“Sigyn.”

“I think you need to go now so I can finish my work.”

Loki leaned in. “We’ll talk later, then.” As he walked behind her, he squeezed her shoulder and trailed his hand across her back.

#loki #sigyn #logyn #fan fiction #my fan fiction

31 notes · View notes

buoyantsaturn · 6 years

Text

Glory and Gore (1/1)

summary: the request: police officers son will and like bad boy nico? like all the sneakin through the window at night Romeo and Juliet type shit. and what a great idea it was

based on this headcanon list

word count: 9796

read on ao3

Will had a free period after lunch, so he spent his time volunteering in the nurse’s office. Hardly anyone ever came into the nurse’s office unless it was for a quick fix - needing a bandaid or an ice pack - so Will was still able to work on homework from his morning classes in between visits.

The school nurse would generally take a long lunch break since Will was there to take care of things, and for the most part Will had the office all to himself for over an hour. Of course, since this was also most students’ lunch period, and everyone was always rowdier and less supervised during that time, there were a lot more mishaps during that time than any other during the day. Someone slipped on a tater tot and hit their head on a nearby table, or someone walked too close to an accidental flying fist. And then, as always, was Nico di Angelo.

Will hated to admit that he enjoyed seeing Nico when he stopped by the nurse’s office. He hated the reason, obviously, but he liked the company - and Nico was pretty nice to look at, which didn’t hurt either. Nice to look at when he wasn’t bruised and bleeding, that is. Nico had a habit of getting into fights during lunch, and would get dragged to the nurse’s office before being ushered away to the principal, though Will had hardly ever seen Nico’s opponents drop in after a fight. Maybe Nico wasn’t so much as getting in fights as he was getting bullied, but he was sure that Nico would never admit to that, so Will had never pressed.

Will was in the middle of reading a chapter of his AP US History textbook when there was a knock on the office door. He turned his head just in time to see the Spanish teacher shove Nico into the room before leaving and closing the door behind herself. Nico was hunched over slightly, tugging his jacket tightly around himself, and his nose was bleeding so bad that Will thought he might’ve left a trail into the office.

“Hey,” Will said, turning back to his homework. “What happened?”

“Same shit as always,” Nico said, his usual answer. He walked over to the fridge in the corner and pulled an ice pack out of the freezer, holding it to his nose as he went over to take a seat on the cot against the wall.

Will pulled a few tissues out of the box on the desk and held them out to Nico. “You’re bleeding on my floor.” Nico took the tissues from him and held them to his nose, careful not to press too hard and cause more pain.

“Your floor,” Nico repeated, and huffed a laugh.

Will finished the page he was reading, and used the paper he was taking notes on as a bookmark before he closed the textbook and set it aside. “So, what was it this time?” he asked as he spun around in his chair. “Smashed your face into a wall? A locker? The floor?”

“Kicked, actually,” Nico replied, and at Will’s alarmed expression he elaborated. “Got pushed over, kicked in the stomach a few times, then once in the face before Senorita What’s-Her-Face broke it up and dragged me here.”

Will wheeled his chair over and pulled the ice pack off Nico’s face, setting it aside so he could use both hands to press gently against the bridge of Nico’s nose. “Does this hurt?” he asked, holding his fingers against a few different points on Nico’s nose.

“No worse than it already does,” Nico answered.

“I don’t think it’s broken, so that’s good,” Will told him. “Lift up your shirt.”

Nico smirked at him, and with the blood that had dried to his lips and chin, he looked a little psychotic. “Come on Solace, shouldn’t you know that the clothes don’t come off until at least the third date?”

Will rolled his eyes and hoped that he wasn’t blushing. Yeah, so he was a blushing virgin, but that didn’t mean that he wanted it to be obvious. “I’m trying to make sure none of your ribs are broken, di Angelo, so lay back and lift up your shirt.”

“Pushy,” Nico commented, but leaned back and lifted the bottom hem of his shirt to reveal pale skin littered with bruises. “Like what you see?”

“Not really,” Will said with a frown, and then caught himself, sure now that he was blushing like crazy. “I meant, uh, because of the bruises. There’s a lot of bruises, old and new. I almost feel like you should go to a hospital and make sure you don’t have any internal bleeding. I’m uh, gonna have to touch your chest to make sure none of your ribs are broken, is that okay?”

“Sure, whatever,” Nico told him, and shivered minutely when Will placed his hands on the bottom of Nico’s ribcage. His fingers pressed lightly over his ribs up as high as the bruises went, before pulling his hands away completely.

“Well, I don’t think anything’s broken,” Will said, and pulled himself back. “You can sit up again, if you want. Has your nose stopped bleeding yet?”

Nico pulled the wad tissues away from his nose, holding a finger under his nose for a second before drawing it away and seeing it free of blood. “Looks like it.”

Will pushed his heels into the ground and propelled his chair toward the cabinets along the opposite wall, pulling one open the taking out a pack of wet wipes. He tossed them to Nico before reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out a tiny flashlight.

“I’m gonna check you for a concussion,” Will told him. “And then I’m guessing you’re expected in the principal’s office?”

“Yeah,” Nico answered, rolling his eyes as he cracked open the pack of wipes. He scrubbed the dried blood from his hands as Will directed him to follow the flashlight with his eyes, then shone it into Nico’s eyes to check the dilation of his pupils.

“Looks good to me,” Will told him. “Put those wipes away when you’re done, and you’re free to go.” Nico got up as Will moved his chair back to the desk, walking over to the mirror over the sink to make sure he got all the blood off his face. He tossed the pack of wipes back into the cabinet when he finished with them, and went toward the door.

“See you later, Will,” he said, and just before he’d managed to close the door behind him on his way out, Will stopped him.

“Hey, Nico? You, uh, you could just stop in for a visit sometime, you know?” he said, not looking up from his reopened textbook to prevent Nico from seeing the blush still rising high on his cheeks. “You don’t have to keep getting into fights just to have a reason to spend some time with me.” Will glanced up with a joking smile, but Nico had already left, the door left ajar behind him.

Will sighed, glaring down at his textbook. Stop projecting your feelings, just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he’s gay.

He turned the page and continued reading about John Adams’s presidency.

Will had a study group that he went to once a week that a bunch of the AP kids in his school had organized. Each time they met on a different day of the week, and they rotated who would host, sometimes going to the library when nobody volunteered. It had taken his mom a lot of convincing to let him go to the study group, since it meant that he had to walk across town at night and come home after curfew, usually while his mom was working a late shift at the police station. Finally, Naomi had conceded, seeing as it would only benefit Will to spend as much time studying as he could.

He was usually able to find someone to walk with, at least halfway, but whenever Annabeth hosted, he had to walk by himself since just about everyone else lived in the opposite direction. He tended to keep his head down and hurry home while trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible when he walked down the less-than-safe streets. There were shortcuts he could take, of course, but he wouldn’t dare walk down those streets after sundown.

He had been on the way home from Annabeth’s when he heard shouting coming from across the road. Almost all of the streetlights in that neighborhood were either incredibly dim or burnt out, so Will couldn’t see much of what was happening, but he figured he should hurry along. However, he heard the shouting continue and soon recognized a familiar voice demanding, “Get off of me, you piece of shit!”

Will booked it across the street without even thinking, diving between Nico and the three jocks in varsity jackets surrounding him. “Leave him alone,” Will said, hoping his voice sounded a lot steadier than he was feeling. “My mom’s the sheriff, I’ll call her right now if you don’t get out of here.”

As the jocks ran off, Will turned around and pulled Nico back onto his feet.

“I had it under control, Solace,” Nico huffed, but leaned heavily against Will’s side once he was standing.

“Yeah, it looked like it,” Will said sarcastically. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“What? Hell no, leave me alone,” Nico argued and tried to push Will away, seeming unaware that Will was supporting almost half his weight. “I get enough shit at school, I don’t need the cops on my ass, too.”

“I’m not calling my mom on you,” Will told him, leading Nico down the street, toward his house. “I promise, I won’t. But we are going to my house so I can make sure you’re not gonna die out here on the street before you can make it to your own home. My mom won’t ever find out, she’s got a late shift tonight, anyway, so we’ve got a good two hours at least.”

“Fine, but as soon as she gets home I’m out of there,” Nico grumbled.

“Yeah, you are,” Will said. “I’m not getting in trouble for you, but if I can keep you from dying then I’ll help while I can.”

“How generous of you,” Nico muttered, and Will could tell his energy was draining considerably with every step.

“Shut up and focus on walking, we’re almost there.”

Will had Nico sit on the countertop in the bathroom so that he could clean up the cuts Nico had on his face and arms from where he had been shoved into the concrete. When he was sure that Nico wouldn’t topple over and fall off the counter, he left to get him a glass of water and an ice pack for his head.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” Will asked as he smoothed his thumb over a bandage above Nico’s eyebrow.

“Same shit as always,” Nico repeated. He already seemed much more coherent than he’d been just twenty minutes earlier.

“Tell me the truth, Nico,” Will insisted, pressing an alcohol-soaked cotton ball a little too forcefully into a cut on Nico’s cheekbone.

Nico winced at the sting. “Fine! God. That asshole found out I slept with his brother, like, two months ago, so he got his buddies to come beat me up. They think I turned him gay, or some shit, but it’s not like they’re gonna try to beat the gay out of him, and they’ve gotta let their homophobia out somehow.”

Will was frozen, halfway through covering another bandage with Neosporin. “That… sucks. I mean, that’s really awful, I’m sorry that happened.”

Nico snorted, looking anywhere but at Will. “Yeah, straight boy like you, I’m sure you can really sympathize.”

“Empathize,” Will corrected, sticking the bandage to the cut on Nico’s cheekbone. “And, uh, I’m not straight, actually. I’m bi.”

“What?”

“Sympathizing is like saying, sorry, that sucks, like I already did, but empathizing is like--”

Nico shoved at Will’s chest. “Not that, Solace, I don’t care about that. You’re bi?”

This time it was Will that averted his gaze. “Well, yeah. Closeted, but yeah. You’re, uh, you’re the first person I’ve ever told. Not even my mom knows, I’m afraid of how she’s gonna react. I don’t think she’s going to, like, kick me out of the house or something, but--”

Nico fisted a hand in the collar of Will’s shirt, jerking him forward and pressing their lips together, effectively cutting off the rest of Will’s worrying. He groaned when he pushed Will back and said, “Shit, Solace, don’t act so straight while you’re leading a guy on.”

Will’s hands landed on Nico’s thighs to steady himself. “I was leading you on? When was I leading you on?”

“All the time. And you’re a terrible flirt, by the way,” Nico informed him, looping an arm around Will’s shoulders and drawing him in closer. “Not in the sense that you flirt too much, but that you’re terrible at flirting.”

“Woah, hey, it’s not like you’re any better,” Will shot back.

“Because I thought you were straight and I don’t flirt with straight boys.”

“Good thing we’ve established that I’m not, then.”

“Sure is,” Nico agreed, and pulled Will in for another kiss. Will’s hands moved up from his thighs to his hips, sliding him closer to the edge of the counter and pressing the two of them together.

It felt like seconds had passed, maybe a minute or two at most, but between gasps for breath, Will heard a car pull into the driveway.

He jumped back so far that he hit the wall behind him. “Shit!”

A flash of hurt shone in Nico’s eyes. “What the hell is your problem, Solace?”

“My mom’s home.”

“What?” Nico exclaimed. “I thought you said we had two hours!”

Will slipped his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. “She’s early. I have to get you out of here!”

“No shit,” Nico huffed, and hopped off the counter, taking a second to steady himself before moving toward the door.

Will grabbed Nico’s wrist and pulled him out of the bathroom and into the guest room across the hall. He let go of the other boy long enough to push the window open before he was shoving Nico toward it.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Will asked as Nico climbed through the window. “I didn’t finish cleaning all those cuts and I never checked you for a concussion--”

“I’ll be fine, Will,” Nico told him from outside the house. He reached back inside, grabbing onto Will’s shirt and pulling him in for one more kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Will said dopily, and Nico smirked before running away from the house.

“Will, are you home?” Naomi called, prompting Will to snap out of his daze and move. He shut and locked the window before rushing back into the bathroom, closing the door as quietly as he could and locking it behind him.

“I’m in the bathroom,” he shouted back.

Will packed up the first aid kit he’d dug out as fast as possible, and his mother knocked on the door.

“Are you alright?” Naomi asked through the door. “You didn’t text me so I got worried.”

“Shit,” Will breathed. That’s why she’d come home early, he’d forgotten to text her saying that he’d gotten home safe, and she must have left work early to check up on him. “I’m fine,” he said, loud enough for her to hear from the hall. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I, uh, I’ve got a stomach ache, and it just kind of slipped my mind, I guess. It won’t happen again.”

“Make sure it doesn’t,” Naomi said, though her voice was soft. “I’m missing out on an hour of overtime pay that we could really use. I don’t want to have to start making sacrifices around here to make ends meet because of something as small as this.”

“I know, Mama,” Will sighed. He’d heard this same speech about five times when he was trying to get her permission to go to his study group. “I won’t forget again, I promise.”

“Alright, I’m going to start getting ready for bed. Do you need anything for your stomach ache?” she asked.

“I’m good,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning, then,” Naomi said. “Goodnight, I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Will said, and slumped over the counter when he heard his mother’s footsteps disappear down the hall.

That had been...awfully close. Dangerously close. That couldn’t happen again.

He put the first aid kit away in the cabinet and left the bathroom.

Will had just opened his locker when something slammed into the lockers next to him. He pulled the door of his locker closer to himself so that he could peak around it, and saw Nico leaning against the neighboring lockers. He was reading something on his phone, probably trying to make it look like he wasn’t about to start a conversation with Will.

“What are you doing after school today?” Nico asked, still seeming like his full attention was on his phone.

Will waited a moment before responding. “Oh, are you talking to me?”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“Well, you seem so interested in your phone.”

Nico groaned, knocking his head back against the locker, before shoving his phone into his pocket and turning to face Will. “Is this better?”

“I could do without the attitude,” Will joked, and when it looked like Nico might turn and leave, Will leaned close to him and said, “I don’t have any plans today. Did you have something in mind?”

Nico shrugged, dropping his gaze to his feet when he said, “I thought maybe I could drive you home and hang out for a while. If you’re up for that.”

Will hadn’t been sure what to expect, but that sudden shyness certainly wasn’t it. “You don’t mind that I have to keep you hidden from my mom?”

“Please, Will, I’m perfectly content with avoiding the sheriff at all costs,” Nico said, finally meeting Will’s eyes again. He took a step closer, making sure to be right up in Will’s personal space when he said, “Besides, don’t you think all the sneaking around is kinda hot?”

Will felt the flush rise up on his cheeks in an instant, and he almost felt dizzy from the rush of blood to his head. “Okay, yeah, you can drive me home.” God, how was it possible for a single person to be so intoxicating?

Will wouldn’t have agreed to it if he’d known that Nico drove a motorcycle, and only had one helmet with him.

Nico had met him outside the front doors of the school and led him into the parking lot, up to a somewhat rusted motorcycle that would probably just fit the two of them on it. Will had stared skeptically at the bike while Nico tried to assure him that it was fine, and fit the helmet over Will’s curly hair.

“But you don’t have a helmet,” Will said.

“It’s not that long of a ride,” Nico responded.

“But it’s dangerous.”

“And I’m careful.”

“But it’s a motorcycle.”

“It’s your only ride home, now that the buses have left,” Nico shot back. “So it’s either this or you’re walking.” Nico threw a leg over the bike, sitting down and starting the engine. He took his backpack off and put it back on backwards so that the bag rest against his chest, and patted the seat behind him. “You coming or not?”

Will whined softly, quiet enough that he could barely even hear it over the roar of the engine as Nico revved it, and finally sat down behind him. He pressed himself against Nico’s back, snaking his arms around Nico’s waist and holding on tight.

“You will go slow,” Will said as he set his chin on Nico’s shoulder. “And be careful. And you won’t do anything stupid to intentionally try to scare me.”

“I will do all of those things,” Nico told him with a laugh.

“Promise.”

“I promise!” Nico said. “Now hold on.”

He eased the bike into motion, gradually gaining speed and being extra careful for Will’s sake, yet Will still squeezed his arms around Nico’s waist and buried his face in Nico’s shoulder.

Nico had never witnessed something so adorable in his life.

“That was terrifying,” Will exclaimed once they entered his house.

“I didn’t even do anything bad!” Nico argued. “That was the blandest motorcycle ride in history.”

“Not possible,” Will insisted, dropping his backpack on the kitchen table.

“You wanna test it?” Nico asked, stepping into Will’s personal space. “I’ll take you for a fun ride, and then you can tell me which was worse.”

“Is this you trying to flirt?” Will asked. “Is that what’s happening here? Because it’s not working very well.”

“Like you’re any better.” Nico rolled his eyes and tugged on the front of Will’s shirt until he leaned down to meet him for a kiss. Nico leaned back against the table, pulling Will up against him, and was about to deepen the kiss when Will pulled away with a smile brighter than the sun.

He stepped back and walked over to the fridge, leaving Nico wondering what the hell had just happened. He’d been anticipating a whole lot more kissing than that, and maybe a change of scenery - like a couch or Will’s bed or something - but now Will was pulling a Capri Sun out of the fridge? Seriously?

“You want anything to drink?” Will asked. “I’ve got Capri Suns. Or do you want a snack?”

Nico blinked at him a few times before holding out his hand. “Yeah, Capri Sun, sure.”

Will tossed him a juice pouch before shutting the fridge and walking back over to the table, though he went right past Nico and sat down at one of the seats. He opened up his backpack and started pulling out textbooks and folders and notebooks, and Nico watched in confusion.

Will glanced up at Nico, still standing over him, and pulled the straw out of his mouth. “Don’t you have homework to do? Take a seat, we can do it together.”

Nico sat down next to him, opening up his backpack and emptying it onto the table. Not exactly the kind of it Nico had anticipated them doing.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done homework, but he certainly knew why he’d stopped. It was boring, and it made his head hurt, and there were plenty of fun things he could be doing right then, imagining them playing out as he ran his foot up the side of Will’s calf.

To be completely honest, Nico had thought that Will might be easy to convince into bed. He was closeted, probably insecure about his sexuality, easy to take advantage of. Led a sheltered life due to an overprotective mom. Quick to show compassion. Definitely not bad to look at, either, which was a bonus for sure.

Except that now, after skimming textbook chapters and solving algebraic equations for over an hour, Nico watched from across the kitchen as Will made Kraft Mac and Cheese for two while still managing to read the textbook sitting next to him - he realized that he hadn’t stuck around for an easy lay. He liked Will. He didn’t think he’d ever liked someone the same way that he knew he liked Will now. It was like the skeletons of butterflies he’d once felt in his stomach had reanimated and were making his insides all fluttery again. He felt an irresistible desire to smile whenever Will smiled at him. He found himself laughing when Will would make a joke, even if he didn’t really get it or didn’t find it particularly funny, all that mattered was that it got Will to smile.

He hated that it had to come to an end when the sheriff’s shift ended that night. He hated the way that Will was rushing to get him out the door when Nico just wanted to slow down and draw Will in close and kiss him like he meant it for once. So he did, and he slowed Will down for just a minute, just long enough to kiss him soft and sweet before Will pulled back with his forehead pressed to Nico’s.

“She’ll be home any minute, Neeks,” Will whispered, and the nickname had come out of nowhere, but Nico loved the sound of it out of Will’s mouth. “You’ve gotta get out of here before she comes back.”

“I know,” Nico said, and dragged Will into another kiss. It was the last one, he swore to himself, for tonight at least. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Will had been surprised to not see Nico even once that week in the nurse’s office. He was happy about it, don’t get him wrong - or, no, happy wasn’t quite the right word. He missed seeing Nico during the day, but he didn’t miss seeing him bloody and bruised.

In fact, the whole hour that Will had spent there that day had been incredibly boring. Only one single student had come in, a freshman in need of a bandaid, and Will had managed to finish all of the homework he’d been given during the first half of the day. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, slipping his phone out of his pocket and about to text Nico when the door opened.

Nico was shoved into the room with a split lip and a swollen eye.

“See that Mr. di Angelo finds his way to the principal’s office after he’s done here,” the gym teacher said to Will before shutting the door behind himself when he left.

Being a frequent visitor of the nurse’s office, Nico would normally walk over to the freezer to grab himself an ice pack before sitting down, but something was different about this time. He wasn’t moving from where he stood in the middle of the room, his eyes - well, the one that wasn’t half-shut, at least - were locked on the floor, and his jacket was pulled tight around him.

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve been here,” Will started, smiling, “but there’s no way you’ve forgotten where everything is already.”

“Right,” Nico muttered, and shuffled toward the fridge, pulling an ice pack out of the freezer. When he turned around to make his way toward the cot, Will was right there next to him and placing a hand on his uninjured cheek.

“What’s wrong?” Will asked with a frown. “What happened?”

Nico held the ice pack to his eye and slumped forward to hide his face in Will’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Will said, and grabbed Nico’s arms to pull him back until they were looking at each other again. “Hey. What?”

Nico sighed, dropping his gaze again. “I’m probably going to get a detention. I won’t be able to drive you home today.”

“Okay,” Will said, “but I feel like that’s not all of it.”

“I was trying not to get in any more fights.”

“What, don’t wanna get caught spending time with me?” Will asked in a joking tone.

“No, of course that’s not it,” Nico said, glaring up at him, but looked away again when he continued, “I just didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“Aw, you care about me,” Will teased.

“Shut up,” Nico shot back, shoving at Will with his free hand and sitting down on the cot.

Will pulled his chair over and sat across from him. “So, when you say that you were trying not to get into fights, does that mean that before you were trying to get into them?”

Nico averted his gaze again, staying silent for long enough that Will could gather the answer himself.

“Are you kidding me, Nico?”

“I needed to have some decent reason to come see you,” he argued.

“I told you before, you could’ve just stopped by,” Will reminded him. “You didn’t think I could stand to see a friendly face every once in a while?”

“My face?”

“Yes, you idiot, your face,” Will said, and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, he was much calmer, and leaned closer to Nico. “It’s a very nice face, and I appreciate that you were trying to preserve it for my sake.” He pushed himself closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of Nico’s mouth, frowning when he pulled back. “Your lip is bleeding.”

“No shit.”

After a month of...what were they doing, really? It didn’t really feel like dating, so he couldn’t call it that. They were...together? Except they hadn’t really talked about it. Were they boyfriends, or were they just...hanging out? Hanging out with a lot of kissing and sneaking around so that Will’s mom didn’t find out?

After a month of whatever they were doing, Will got a text from Nico telling him to sneak out and buy Nico dinner.

Will was in fact eating dinner at that moment with his mom, which they only got to do about once a month due to her terrible work schedule. He also wasn’t allowed to have his phone out during dinner, but figured he’d snuck his phone out under his desk in school often enough that he might be able to trick his mom, at least for long enough that he could read the message.

He stuffed a bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth with one hand as he typed his response with the other: can’t, mom’s home. He set his phone next to his leg on his chair, and just as he was about to talk another bite, it buzzed a few times in quick succession.

“William,” his mother said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You know the rule, no phones at the dinner table.”

“I know, sorry, Mama,” he said. “It’s probably just my study group trying to figure out who’s house we’re meeting at next. I’m sure it’s nothing important.”

Conversation was usually slow at their monthly dinners, but tonight Naomi told her son about the day she’d had at work, how she’d had to break up a street fight in the middle of the day - during school hours, she’d said, and Will internally sighed in relief knowing that Nico wouldn’t have gotten caught up in it. She asked how Will’s day went, if there’d been any interesting visitors to the nurse’s office. He told her that he hadn’t had a single visitor, when in fact he’d had one very interesting visitor that he just couldn’t tell her about.

When he finished his dinner, he said, “I’ve got some more homework to finish up tonight, so after I wash the dishes, I’m gonna go do that in my room.”

Naomi waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry about the dishes, I’ll take care of them.”

“No, it’s fine, I--”

“Don’t argue with your mother, Will,” Naomi told him with a smile. “Go finish your homework, I’ll clean everything up. It’ll give me something to do before I turn in tonight.”

“Thanks, Mama,” Will said, rising out of his chair and heading toward the stairs, pressing a kiss to his mother’s cheek as he passed.

He ran up to his room, closing his door and immediately pulling out his phone to read the other texts he’d received during dinner. There were six, all from Nico, the first of which saying: that’s why I said to sneak out. He scrolled past the rest, noticing one that said, fine, don’t answer, before reading the last of the texts: I’ll come to you.

Will was frantically typing out his response - No, don’t do that! - when he heard a clack from somewhere near his window. He went over, looking out and down at the yard where he saw Nico throw a pebble that would’ve hit Will square between the eyes if not for the glass between them.

He slid the window open and leaned out once he was sure that Nico wouldn’t start throwing any more rocks. “What are you doing, you idiot? You’re gonna get caught! And also, rocks, really? What is this, an eighties rom-com?”

“Don’t have such little faith in me, Will,” Nico called up to him. “I’m an expert at sneaking around. Step back from your window, I’m gonna climb this grid thing on the wall.”

“Oh my God,” Will groaned, stepping back and hiding his face in his hands, not wanting to see whether Nico made it through the window or not - and also afraid of what would happen if he didn’t make it.

He heard a huff of breath and peeked between his fingers to see Nico leaning halfway through his window. “See? I told you, I’m the expert.” He hooked his leg over the windowsill and lost his balance, toppling into the room and landing on the floor with a thud.

Will snorted, trying to hold back his laughter as Nico picked himself up off the floor. “It’s called a lattice,” he said, and Nico frowned at him in confusion. “That grid thing. It’s a lattice.”

Nico rolled his eyes and crossed the room until he was standing directly in front of Will. “You’re a lattice,” he said, grabbing the front of Will’s shirt, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Will pressed his forehead against Nico’s, breaking the kiss. “What’re you doing here?”

“I missed my boyfriend and nobody would buy me dinner, so I thought I’d drop by.”

“Boyfriend?” Will repeated, drawing back slightly. Nico had a boyfriend? What was he doing spending so much time with Will if he was dating someone else? Was that what he meant when he kept talking about how good he was at sneaking around?

“Yeah, is that a problem?” Nico asked, a hint of concern on his face.

“Yeah, it’s a problem, you have a boyfriend,” Will said, like it should be obvious, and pushed Nico back.

“Woah, Will, wait,” Nico said. “You know you’re the boyfriend, right?”

“You-- I...wait, what?” Will froze, and Nico started laughing, covering his mouth with his hand so that the sound wouldn’t travel.

“God, you’re adorable,” Nico said, swooping in again and drawing Will in for another kiss.

“Will, are you alright?” Naomi’s voice came from downstairs, and Will jumped back. “I heard a loud noise, what happened?”

“I’m fine!” Will shouted back, darting around Nico to shut his window, and then pushing Nico toward his closet when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Hide, hurry!” He shut Nico inside his closet just as his mother knocked on his door, walking in only a second later.

“Will, what was that noise?” Naomi demanded.

“Nothing, I just, uh, tripped over my backpack,” Will lied.

“And I thought I heard your window open,” Naomi continued, raising an eyebrow in suspicion and crossing her arms.

“Yeah, I thought some fresh air might help me think, but the breeze would’ve ended up blowing papers all over my desk so I changed my mind.”

Naomi still looked skeptical, but after a tense moment she conceded. “Alright, I’m turning in for the night. Try to keep it quiet in here so I can get to sleep. I love you, Will, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure to read as quiet as possible,” he said. “Love you, too. Goodnight.”

He closed the door after his mother left, leaning against it after a moment to take a calming breathe before opening up his closet.

Nico leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, would you look at that, now we’re both in the closet.”

Will grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room, resting his forehead against Nico’s. “I’m so sorry, it was the first idea that popped into my head.”

“You’re a very quick thinker,” Nico commented. “Where’d you learn to lie like that, by the way?”

“My mom is the sheriff, Nico. I have to lie,” Will replied. “You don’t really think I’m a big goody-two-shoes, do you?”

“Only goody-two-shoeses call themselves goody-two-shoes,” Nico said. He started walking Will backwards until he was sitting on the edge of his bed, and Nico climbed into his lap. “Now, don’t you think there’s something a little more fun we could be doing than talking?”

“I’m just a pair of lips to you, aren’t I?” Will asked with a pout.

“And a tongue, that’s important, too,” Nico replied, and pressed their lips together forcefully enough to knock Will over onto his back. Will’s arms wound around Nico’s back, holding him close as Nico slipped his tongue into Will’s mouth.

“You should stay here tonight,” Will whispered when Nico pulled away for a breath.

Nico seemed surprised for a second before he rolled his eyes and said, “You’re just trying to look like you’re not a goody-two-shoes. But if you insist, then maybe we should get a little more comfortable.” He slipped his hands under the hem of Will’s shirt and pulled it up, revealing tan, freckled skin and well-defined muscles. Well, as well-defined as muscles can be when you’re seventeen.

Nico sat back on Will’s hips, staring down at his chest. “What the hell.”

“What?” Will asked.

“Why are you buff? I thought you were a nerd!”

“I’ve done track and field since the sixth grade,” Will told him. “You’ve had your hands all over me for the last month, how did you not notice this?”

“I don’t know, hands are different then eyes,” Nico argued, gaze still glued to Will’s skin.

Will rolled his eyes. “If it’s gonna be a problem, then I can put my shirt back on.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Nico said, and pulled his own shirt off over his head. He swooped down and licked a stipe up Will’s chest. “Definitely not a problem.”

Will stared into Nico’s eyes, recognizing some kind of hunger in them, and breathed out, “Holy shit,” before dragging Nico down for another kiss.

Normally, Will and Naomi would wake up at the same time, have breakfast together, and Will would be dropped off at school in a squad car - which had been super cool in elementary school, but not so much anymore.

With his impromptu guest, however, Will decided before they went to sleep that it would be best to wake up earlier - five in the morning instead of six, and he groaned just thinking about it - and sneak Nico out before Naomi was even awake.

After setting his alarm, he’d curled up around Nico, an arm around his waist and his nose nestled into his hair, and the two had fallen asleep.

Only to be woken an hour earlier than expected.

“William Andrew Solace, what the hell is going on in here?” Naomi screeched from the entrance to Will’s room.

Will bolted upright and Nico practically fell out of the bed, reaching for his discarded jeans and frantically trying to pull them on before he’d even fully hit the ground.

“Mom! Uh, this isn’t-- It’s not what it looks like--”

“William,” Naomi snapped, pointing an angry finger at her son and silencing him. “You are grounded until further notice, and when you get home from school today, we will be having a very serious discussion. And you.” She finally entered the room and grabbed Nico by the arms, yanking him up to his feet. “If I ever see you in this house again - if you ever speak to my son again - I will arrest you.” She reached down and grabbed the pair of high top converse at the foot of Will’s bed and shoved them into Nico’s chest before clamping a hand on the back of his neck and leading him out of the house.

“You will leave, and you won’t ever come back to this house, do you understand me?” Naomi said as she shoved Nico out the front door. “If I find out that you had any contact with Will then I won’t hesitate to file a restraining order against you. Now get off my property.”

Nico booked it down the street, ignoring the rocks that dug painfully into his bare feet as he ran around the block to where he’d left his bike. He didn’t bother to put on his shoes as he started his bike and flew down the street, arriving outside his own house in about twenty minutes.

He unlocked the front door and threw his shoes on the ground right inside, hurrying through the kitchen to the stairs. His father, having just woken up, was making coffee and when he saw Nico he demanded, “And where the hell have you been?” Nico ignored him and ran up the stairs.

He went right past his own room and walked into Hazel’s instead, dropping onto her bed and curling up on his side.

“Huh, what?” Hazel muttered, waking up at the sudden motion on her mattress. “What’s happening? What time is it?”

“It’s four-thirty,” Nico told her. “I just got home, I-- I need to talk to you.”

Hazel rolled over onto her side to face her brother. “Oh boy, what happened this time? Did you sleep with the younger brother of another jock who’s gonna beat you up?”

“Sort of,” Nico said, curling in on himself even further. “Except replace brother of a jock with son of the sheriff and beating me up with having me arrested if I ever speak to him again.”

“Yikes,” Hazel said. “Sheriff Solace? But she seems so nice!”

“I thought she was gonna kill me right there in his room,” Nico whispered, voice shaking like he might start to cry.

Hazel reached out, patting the bed a few times until she found Nico’s hand, and held it tightly. “You really liked this one, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Nico croaked.

“I guess it’s a good thing that you’ve never listened to the police before,” Hazel said. “Why would you start now?”

“Because she said--” Nico cut himself off, realizing what his sister meant. “Oh. You mean-- Oh. You’re the best, you know that?”

“I know,” Hazel said. “You can show your gratitude by getting out and letting me go back to sleep.”

Nico hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, so he spent the two remaining hours until he had to leave for school finishing up homework that he’d neglected to do for the past week. Once it was finally an acceptable time to leave, he changed out of the clothes he’d been wearing the day before - realizing after he’d shed the shirt that it was actually Will’s and not his own - and left for school. He knew he should’ve taken the shirt with him to return it to Will, but he decided to hold on to it to give back later. He told himself that it was so that he could wash it first, but really he wanted to have something of Will’s to keep in case his plan didn’t work out.

He made a beeline to Will’s locker, waiting there for a few minutes until Will walked up, hesitating when he saw Nico but continuing forward after a moment. When Will reached his locker, he was close enough that Nico could see the puffy redness around his eyes, showing that he’d been crying just a short time before.

“I’m sorry,” Nico told him softly, though Will didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge him. “I shouldn’t have stayed over because then we wouldn’t have gotten caught, but I don’t regret it, okay? I...I really like you, and I really like being with you, and… I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You know, if we keep seeing each other. We snuck around for over a month without your mom finding out, so who’s to say we can’t keep sneaking around? I just won’t come over anymore, and I guess I won’t be able to drive you home, either, but we can still see each other here, and it’ll all work out fine.”

Will sighed, shutting his locker carefully. He didn’t look at Nico when he said, “I’ll think about it.”

He turned and walked away.

Will took the bus home from school that day. He’d been quiet and unresponsive throughout the day, even during his free period in the nurse’s office. He’d dragged his feet on the walk home from the bus stop, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as he could, despite knowing that his mom wouldn’t be getting home from work for another hour at least.

He couldn’t focus on his homework once he’d finally gotten home, either. He stared blankly down at his textbook until his mother walked through the front door, walking straight to the table and sitting down across from him.

“Put your homework away,” Naomi ordered.

“I haven’t finished it yet,” Will said, glaring down at the pages.

“I don’t care, put it away,” Naomi repeated. “We have an awful lot to talk about.”

“So start talking,” Will told her, slamming his textbook shut.

“I think you should start, actually. Explain yourself.”

Will slumped back in his chair, tapping the end of his pencil on the table. “We didn’t expect you to wake up that early.”

“I got called in for an emergency,” Naomi explained. “Who was he?”

“My boyfriend.”

“His name, Will.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right, like I’m gonna tell you so you can put out an APB or something.”

“Fine. Your...boyfriend. You never told me that you’re gay.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Because I’m not. I’m bi.”

“You could have told me.”

“Sure.”

“I love you, Will. Your sexuality isn’t going to change that fact.”

Will didn’t respond.

“How old is he?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know if I can add statutory rape to the list of charges I’ve been compiling. So far, I’ve got trespassing, breaking and entering--”

“Are you kidding me?” Will snapped. “None of those charges would hold up! I let him in the house, I invited him over. Everything was consensual - driving me home from school, coming into the house, touching, kissing, sex last night--” Naomi’s gasp cut off Will’s ramblings, though he regained his footing before she could speak. “He’s seventeen, like me. If you wanna get technical, I’m older. So if you’re gonna charge someone with statutory, then I guess it’s me.”

“You-- You had-- with--” Naomi leaned forward, hiding her face in her hands. “One month. You’re grounded for a month. No study group. No TV. Internet for homework only. I’m letting you keep your phone, but only so you can text me when you get home from school. I’ll be driving you there every day, and you’ll take the bus home. If I find out that you had any contact with this boy, I’ll add another month. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Will said, and started packing up his homework. “I’ll see you in a month.” He grabbed his backpack and walked out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs.

“You’ll see me for dinner, you mean.”

“Not hungry. I’ll be in my room.”

Will ran up the stairs and into his room, letting his door slam shut behind him. He threw his backpack on his bed and grabbed his desk chair, jamming it under the doorknob to keep the door shut in place of a lock. Why couldn’t he have thought of that last night?

He let himself fall back on his bed, slipping his phone out of his pocket and opening up his contacts. He found Nico’s file, changed the name, and sent him a text saying, Grounded for a month. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll figure it out from there.

They found that it’s very difficult to keep a secret relationship a secret when you don’t have a home to hide it in. On the bright side, Will didn’t have to worry about coming out to anyone. His classmates gradually figured out what was happening between him and Nico by seeing them spending so much time together, walking each other to classes, and the rare sight of them sharing a kiss at the end of the school day.

They spent most of their time together in the nurse’s office, which occasionally meant that Nico would skip his fourth period class just to sit with Will a little bit longer. He wasn’t able to drive Will home after school because the sheriff had set one of her deputies on patrolling the school at the end of every day, keeping an eye out for the “dark haired boy with the motorcycle.”

Will made sure to follow the rules to a T so that he could become un-grounded as soon as possible and meet up with Nico outside of school, so as soon as his month of imprisonment had ended, he told his mom that he was going out to his study group and met Nico around the corner. They went out to dinner and a movie, their first real date, and stayed out just long enough to make it truly seem like Will had gone to his study group, but not so long that he got home late after Nico dropped him off on the other side of the block.

They managed to sneak around for another two months, the days getting longer as summer quickly approached, Will finding more and more time to get out of the house as his “study group” started meeting up more and more frequently as finals came closer. He’d even faked a study group all-nighter so that he could spend the night with Nico while his parents were out of town - they did some studying, of course, because Will couldn’t let his grades slip, but with the whole night ahead of them, they’d had plenty of time for other things, too.

Since they were no longer hiding just from Will’s mom but the entire police department, they had to be particularly careful where they went after school. They couldn’t leave together or be seen entering another building at the same time, and if they noticed a cop car patrolling around a certain area of the town, then they would get as far away from there as possible. The only issue with that was how the other side of town usually coincided with the wrong side of town, and there was a reason that Naomi hadn’t wanted Will walking around after dark.

The police station was mostly empty, save for a few officers working the night shift and the sheriff finishing up the last of the day’s paperwork. She was ready to give in and call it a night so that she could head home and hopefully get to sleep at a decent hour, when the phone on the corner of her desk rang.

“This is Sheriff Solace,” she answered, shoving the paperwork aside.

“Hi Sheriff, there’s a bit of a situation in the Phoebus Hospital Emergency Room,” a voice that Naomi recognized as a nurse from the nearby hospital said.

“Understood, I’ll have one of my deputies there to fill out a report in no more than ten minutes,” Naomi said, and started to pull the phone away from her ear when the nurse continued.

“Wait! Sorry, Sheriff, but I called you specifically because, well, it should really be you that comes to check this out.”

Naomi took a breath, hoping to keep the frustration out of her voice before she spoke again. “Miss, I think you should explain to me what is happening, now.”

“A couple of high school-age boys were mugged and brought here,” the nurse said hurriedly. “One of them was just taken up for emergency surgery and the other is… Well, the other is your son, Ma’am.”

“You’re lying to me,” Naomi said, anger seeping into her tone.

“N-no, Ma’am, why would you think--”

“My son sent me a text twenty minutes ago telling me that he had made it home from his study group and was heading to bed,” Naomi hissed. “I don’t know who you have in your ER, but that is not my son.”

“Please, Sheriff, just come and see for yourself,” the nurse said, and ended the call.

Naomi huffed, rising out of her chair abruptly and storming out of her office. This had better not be a waste of her time.

She drove to the hospital with her lights and siren on, speeding up her drive so that she arrived outside the ER in around five minutes. She marched into the hospital, straight up to the receptionist’s desk, and demanded to know why she’d been told to come there. The nurse behind the desk pointed her toward the waiting area and Naomi thought she might explode with anger at being told to sit and wait, when she looked over and saw Will in one of the chairs.

Naomi took a calming breath before walking over and taking a seat across from her son, who flinched back when he saw her.

“Hey, Mama,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks and arms wrapped around himself protectively - or, no, that wasn’t quite it. One of his arms was wrapped up and in a sling, and it was then that Naomi noticed the growing bruise on his cheek and the cuts and scrapes littering his other arm.

“Will, honey, what happened?” Naomi asked gently, but tensed at the next thought that came into her head. “Did that boy do this to you? The one with the motorcycle? Will, if he so much as laid a finger on you--”

“No, Mama, just shut up!” Will snapped, and hid his face in his hand.

“Do not use that tone with me, William,” Naomi said. “Now explain to me what happened. Starting with what you’re doing out past curfew and why you lied to me about being at home.”

Will sighed, tears slipping through his fingers and dripping onto his jeans. “I haven’t been going to my study group. Not since you grounded me,” he told her. There was no point in hiding anything now, and he figured he’d might as well come clean about the past few months as well. “I’ve been with Nico-- My boyfriend. His name is Nico.”

“This is the same boyfriend I told you never to speak to again,” Naomi said, voice and expression neutral, terrifyingly so.

“Yeah,” Will croaked. “We were walking around on the west side of town tonight, and I said I knew of this shortcut, and he tried to tell me that we shouldn’t go that way, but we did anyway, and-- There was this guy with a knife and he came out of nowhere. I didn’t wanna give him my phone so he broke my arm and punched me in the face. I… I hit the ground and I don’t really know what happened after that, but I know that Nico got between us and-- There was so much blood, Mama, and they took him up for surgery, and-- What if he doesn’t make it? What if he dies and it’s all my fault?”

Naomi stood from her chair and moved to sit next to Will, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. “It’s going to be alright, honey,” she said soothingly, running her fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “He’ll be just fine. It’s not your fault. Shh, honey, it’s all going to be okay.” Naomi sighed, realizing that if anyone was to blame, it was probably herself. “I’m sorry for making such a snap judgement of this boy, and I shouldn’t have kept you from seeing each other. I made a rash decision, and I’m sorry for that. You’re going to be grounded again for lying to me so often, but once that’s over, I suppose I can allow you to continue seeing this boy.”

Will rolled his eyes and pulled himself out of Naomi’s embrace. As he wiped the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand, he said, “That’s not exactly my biggest concern right now since I was probably going to keep seeing him anyway, but thanks, I guess.”

Naomi huffed and opened her mouth to argue, but before she could speak, a doctor approached them and asked Will to follow her.

“He’s going to be just fine,” the doctor said as she led Will up to the room where they’d taken Nico after surgery. “He should be waking up any moment now, and did I see the sheriff here to file a report?”

“Uh, yeah, but she can wait,” Will replied. He wanted to cut the chit chat and run to wherever Nico was, but he couldn’t do that when he didn’t quite know where Nico was. “He’s really going to be alright? The bleeding’s stopped, there weren’t any complications?”

“No complications, everything went smoothly,” the doctor told him, and stopped outside a door. “See for yourself, it looks like he might be awake.”

She gestured through the doorway and Will walked inside, rushing to Nico’s bedside when he saw his boyfriend smiling dopily up at him. He brushed his fingers through Nico’s hair, and Nico reached up to poke at a tear that was trailing down Will’s cheek.

“Are you crying over me, Solace?” Nico mumbled, leaning into Will’s touch. He was blinking slowly like he might fall asleep at any second, but Will figured that was just a side effect of the painkillers he was undoubtedly on.

“Not my fault,” Will told him. “You had me worried. You said you were gonna stop worrying me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Nico said with an overdramatic roll of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Shut up, you’re the one that was just in surgery,” Will reminded him. “Are you okay?”

“That depends. If you’re good, then I’m good. But if you’re not good, then we’re gonna have a problem.”

Will beamed, leaning down to press his forehead to Nico’s. “I think you’re high from the painkillers.”

Nico hummed, letting his eyes slip shut. “Yeah, it’s good shit.”

Will pressed his lips to Nico’s and when he pulled back, Nico was smiling brighter than Will had ever seen him smile before. “I’m gonna tell you something,” Will whispered. “I’m gonna say it now because I don’t think you’ll remember it when the drugs wear off, but I think I love you, Neeks.”

Nico tugged on the collar of Will’s t-shirt and pulled him down for another kiss. “Right back at you, Sunshine.”

#mine #my writing #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #high school au #sheriffs son will au #bad boy nico au #bad boy nico #sheriffs son will #i cant wait to make the moodboard for this one its gonna be good

129 notes · View notes

melikeylikeyjimin · 6 years

Text

Mental || Five

Word Count: 2725 Words

Genre: Psychiatric Patient! Hoseok x Doctor! Reader, Fluff, Angst, Smut(?)

a/n: We’ll finally get to mentioning Hoseok!

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Not long after I had finished my session with Jungkook, the clock struck 12:30. I could finally go on my much-needed lunch break. I was dying, my stomach had been growling at me for the past hour to feed it, and finally, it was getting what it wanted. I walked down the long narrow hallways of the main floor.

I walked past the receptionist desk and into the staff room. The staff room was where we kept the machine for us to clock in and out of work. I swiped my keycard in the door and watched as it flashed green at me, signaling for me to open it. I pulled the handle down and entered the staff room.

Inside was the norm. The machine, microwaves, coffee machines, etc. There were plenty of people inside the staff room with me. If they weren’t the administrative board or supervisors, then it was other doctors and nurses that wanted to clock out for their lunch break as well.

I waited in line as I pulled my phone out. Today was hectic so I went to check my hair and see if it was still in place. My hair was frizzy from my shower, but it was finally dry. I combed through my locks of hair with my finger, trying to brush through the knots that were starting to form, as well as lessen the volume.

Finally, I got to the front of the room and grabbed my keycard and swiped it to clock out for my lunch break. I had a bad habit of not leaving earlier to get in line, as a good couple of minutes of my lunch break had already passed. Jisoo and Dylan always constantly reminded me to do so so I would be on time, but I kept forgetting.

My thoughts were completely dedicated to my patients and their needs that lunch did not come up until it was time to eat. After I had clocked myself out, I left the staff room. I walked back down the hallways I came from and towards the cafeteria on the other side of the building. This side of the building was very familiar to me. Not only was the cafeteria over on this side, but as well as the pharmacy.

Jisoo was a nurse that worked in the pharmacy. She wasn’t the head but she was an assistant for the head pharmacist, Mrs. Li. Mrs. Li was an older woman that was well into her 60’s, but she was always nice to all of us. When I first came here, I felt scared to ask for Yoongi’s prescriptions, but when I met her, I was no longer nervous.

Mrs. Li was a very peaceful woman who made you feel as if you were talking to your mother. She would tell us stories of her younger days back in her home country, China. Often, many of the employees did call her mom instead of Mrs. Li, and of course, she was perfectly content with this nickname. I would often visit Mrs. Li when I felt homesick as well. She felt like home and it was nice to have a motherly figure around to talk to.

I finally reached the cafeteria to see Jisoo and Dylan waiting for me once again. “I swear you take longer and longer each time we eat lunch together.” Jisoo scolded me. I shrugged my shoulders. I knew any excuse I could possibly give was not a valid one when it got in the way of Jisoo’s food, especially on Fridays.

On Fridays, the cafeteria served fried chicken, Jisoo’s favorite food. Today she was going easy on me, but I could see the pure desire in her eyes for the chicken as the three of us waited in line. My eyebrows furrowed as I continued to think back to the room on the 12th floor. I still needed to ask Dylan and Jisoo about it. I wanted to know if they knew anything that could satisfy my curiosity about the room.

Dylan looked over at me, “There’s smoke coming out of your ears, I think you’re thinking too hard.” He joked. I rolled my eyes at his lame attempt at a joke. “I was just thinking about something that caught my eye.” I clarified. “Ooh, A new crush perhaps?” Dylan wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I shoved him and scoffed, “I said something, not someone.” He faked hurt, “That’s ok, I know you’ll eventually fall for my looks.” Jisoo immediately snorted at his words and broke out laughing. Her laughing causing the two of them to bicker once again as if they were a married couple. I watched them with a smile. They were my two closest friends, and seeing them like this made me feel warm inside.

I continued to let them bicker even as they grabbed trays of food from the servers. I would wait until we sat down before I would start asking them about the mysterious and unknown 12th floor. We walked away from the line with our utensils and sat down at our usual table. The table we sat out was in the corner of the lunchroom, it was always very isolated and quiet because no one else sat with us. It was right by the doors as well so we could exit quickly after lunch.

I turned to them after I took a bite of the chicken, “Hey you guys,” I started. Dylan and Jisoo’s bickering stopped in an instant and their attention was on me again, “I have some questions about that something that caught my attention.” “What’s on your mind, baby girl?” Jisoo asked concerned. Jisoo’s motherly instincts were active, she sensed a problem. I wouldn’t have called it a problem but it was something that was troubling me from my lack of information.

“Well you know how I take care of Jungkook, right?” They nodded their head for me to continue speaking. “Well, I didn’t notice before, but when I go up there to get the supplies from the storage room, there’s an isolated room.” Their eyes were blank. I could tell they knew what I was talking about but still wanted more information on what I was asking about. “I wanted to know if you guys could tell me about that room. Is there a patient in there?”

Dylan and Jisoo looked at each other as if they were communicating with their eyes before they leaned in. “We don’t know much, we’ve only heard rumors from our seniors, but yes there is a patient in there,” Dylan stated. I nodded for them to continue. “I heard he’s kept up there alone because he’s absolutely insanely violent. Apparently, they’ve given up on him.” Jisoo continued. “Do you know his name? And they can’t just give up on someone.”

“His name is Jung Hoseok, but Y/N, you can’t save everyone.” Jisoo looked at me. Dylan nodded in agreement with Jisoo, “Don’t go near that room, it’s best if you just completely forget about your curiosity, I don’t want you to get hurt.” I nodded. I wasn’t going to stop being curious, but I wasn’t dumb. I wouldn’t go near the room, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. There were locks on the door and it looked like you needed a special card to get in. With my credentials, I couldn’t get in even if I wanted.

We continued to eat lunch and talk about our patients as always. I told Dylan and Jisoo my idea of asking the supervisor to let Jungkook go outside once a week, and while they thought it was a good idea, they also thought that it would be hard to get him to agree. We all had different supervisors. Jisoo, because she was a nurse her supervisor was Mrs. Li.

Dylan and I’s supervisors were different as well. We were both doctors, but certain patients were under certain supervisors. His supervisor, according to him, was overall a decent guy. Dylan told us of how he was a decent boss but he was also a decent and understanding human being. I, on the other hand, have only met my supervisor a few times.

Mr. Song was a man I heard rumors about from other doctors that worked with me, but I only met with him when he called me in. He usually only called me in to tell me if I had a new patient or to check in, but it wasn’t often. We cleaned up and put our trays back along with the utensils. We threw the trash away and walked away before the end of our lunch break. We always made sure to leave early so we could beat the crowd because it didn’t mean we had to clock in right away, but we could get there early.

We walked back towards the staff room at a glacial pace, and eventually, you could hear the crowd of people catching up. We entered and began clocking back in for work. “Well, I need to get back to the pharmacy, but let me know how it goes, Y/N,” Jisoo called out to me. She waved before she left. Dylan said goodbye as well and went to continue his work. I clocked myself back in and went to go to Mr. Song’s office.

I found the door with his name and gave a polite knock. I heard a gruff ‘come in’ and entered the room, closing the door behind me with a soft click. I always get anxious in Mr. Song’s presence. He was a burly man who looked unforgiving and considering this was the first time that I had ever come to him on my own, I was even more so nervous.

He looked at me, “Ah Miss Y/N, it’s not like you to visit me.” “Uh, yes, I wanted to see you because I wanted to arrange something for one of my patients,” I told him. He looked displeased but let me continue, “My patient, Jeon Jungkook, I wanted to see about getting him hospital leave once a week.” “Why would Mr. Jeon need that?” “Well, I spoke with his today in our most recent session, and he expressed his want to be able to go outside. I agree that once a week would not be bad for a patient like him.”

He groaned, “I see where you are coming from Miss Y/N, but how can we let him outside without supervision?” “I am more than willing to book a double session with Jungkook on those days he goes outside. I will supervise him and when we get back we will have our normal session.” He nodded at my plan, “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but I don’t trust Jeon.” “Please sir, I know this is a lot to ask of, but I believe it is truly beneficial to Jungkook’s mental health.”

He nodded and waved his hand, “Alright alright, I’ll give you a test trial. Next Tuesday you can take him out for two hours and he will be observed.” My face lit up with a grin, “Thank you so much Mr. Song, You won’t regret it!” He smiled, “Don’t make me regret giving you this privilege.” I nodded in excitement. I couldn’t wait to tell Jungkook the news. Because I didn’t have any other patients, I told myself after I finished up here, I’d visit Jungkook again to tell him the good news. Afterwards, I’d check up on Yoongi one last time before I ended my shift.

“Oh yes, one last thing Miss Y/N?” Mr. Song called me out of my thoughts. “Yes, sir?” “I’ve been meaning to call you down too, I wanted to give you our third patient. I know you’ve been wanting one.” My excitement doubled. I was like a kid in a candy store. I was getting so many good things. “Yes, thank you! What is his name?” “I wanted to really challenge you, and I feel like you can make a difference, his name is Jung Hoseok.”

As the name rung through my ears, my excitement drained from my face. “I know you’ve heard some rumors about him perhaps, but I wouldn’t give him to you if I didn’t trust your skills.” I nodded and tried to push my anxiety down. “When do I start?” “Monday, and don’t worry, if anything happens, there will be guards right outside the door.” I nodded once again. “Alright, thank you for the opportunity and for granting Jungkook time outside.” I bowed.

I dismissed myself and exited Mr. Song’s office. I bit the inside of my cheek as I thought about my newest patient. I looked down at the file I was given. I’d go over it tonight after my shift. I walked out of the staff room in a rush. I took the elevator to the floor that my room was on.

The hospital was huge. My room was on the 18th floor. I waited in the elevator as it went up the floors slowly. It dinged and I slid my card to access my room. I went inside and dropped the patient file off on my table with my other files. I exited my room once again and took the elevator to Jungkook’s floor. I couldn’t wait to see the enormous bunny smile I was about to get. Jungkook’s smile was very endearing, you couldn’t get enough of it. It was something you wanted to treasure.

I finally arrived at his floor and swiped my key. I walked in to see the lights off. Jungkook was currently taking a nap it seemed that he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. I walked towards his bed and sat down to begin trying to wake him up. I shook him gently only to receive a grunt. This was the exact reason why Jungkook was an afternoon patient instead of an early morning one. He didn’t wake up easily unless he knew there was ramen involved.

Suddenly, an idea came to my mind. I got close to Jungkook’s ear, “Jungkook, I have ramen.” His eyes immediately shot open as he looked frantically around the room for the ramen only to see me. “Do you really have ramen?” He asked. “No, I’m sorry,” I told him. He groaned and went to lay back down, “But I do have good news!” He opened his eyes to look at me. “I got it approved for you to go outside once a week for two hours!”

He immediately left his once groggy state and became his bunny self. “Did you really?!” I nodded. He picked me up and swung me around in a hug with a giggle. “Woah Woah, put me down Jungkook, I know you’re happy, but I’m still your doctor.” He nodded and set me down. “Thank you so much, Y/N.” “You’re welcome, I want you to be happy, okay?” He nodded and gave me a big smile.

“You can go back to sleep now, but I wanted to share the good news.” He nodded. “See you tomorrow at 1?” He nodded his head again and I waved as I closed the door behind me. All I had left to do was check in on Yoongi, but that was easy. He was probably sleeping again (as always) and wouldn’t talk much.

I rode the elevator to his floor and opened his door. “Yoongi,” I called out. He lifted his head to look at me. “Are you still doing okay? Is there anything I can get you before I check out for the night?” He shook his head like I knew he would. “Alright, just checking, I’ll see you tomorrow around 10:30.” He nodded and laid his head back down. I closed the door and went to clock out.

Once I clocked out, I went up to my room. I was tired. I laid down on the bed. My shift ended at 4, and I didn’t eat dinner yet, but I was tired. I decided I’d skip out on dinner tonight. I wanted to learn more about Hoseok. I moved to the couch where the file sat on the coffee table. I looked through the information and read about him.

I wondered what Hoseok was like. Was he truly like what the rumors said?

#hoseok #jung hoseok #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts imagines #bts #bts hoseok senarios #bts hoseok x reader #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #jisoo #blackpink #jungkook #bts yoongi #yoongi #mental

65 notes · View notes