#i’m just busy prepping for my first hands-on training at my new job for tonight

[delicteflowr]

(~￣▽￣)~ hit that like / boop that heart / WHAPAH THAT BUTTON if you’d like a random Hilda in your asks :’> Most likely trying to put some of her work load on people but - it’s her brand.

[mountswhore]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 — mason mount

summary: chelsea’s massage therapist, and mason’s long term crush, had moved to a different club. but after reuniting at nationals, you realise just how much you missed him.

notes: requests are open, just ask! this is so fucking long, please read when you have time.

“I will take care of you.” + “I could never get tired of you.”

for @masterclassbaby

“she’s pretty,” mason hummed, chin in the palm of his hands and eyes gazing at you. chelsea’s newest sports massage therapist. he watched as you conversed with a few of the injured teammates, the boys on either side of him laughing at his blushed cheeks.

“mounty’s in love.” chilly sang, pushing mason gently. the three of them were laying on the turf, waiting for their trainer to arrive and being introduced to the pretty lady who would be massaging their injured limbs from now on. “go on, make a move before kai does. you know he will.”

“i’m not making any moves,” mason huffed and pushed himself to his feet, ben following suit and pulling a ball towards him with his foot, “can i appreciate her beauty without wanting to make a move?” ben rolled his eyes at his friend, eyes now focused on the ball for the first time in twenty minutes.

“so you’re just going to stare at her, like a creep.” ben stated, stopping the ball with the side of his foot and kicked it back to mason. “noted.” mason was barely focused, looking over to you every time you laughed or your voice echoed. he’d laugh with you, crinkling his nose when you did, it was sickening.

ben had kicked the ball to mason’s feet, where is stilled and hadn’t even broken his stare. he had ‘regained control of the ball’ by kicking mason’s ankles, which had definitely caught his attention and caused him to hiss in pain. “you fucker, what did you do that for?”

“i just gave you a reason to talk to her, you clown.” ben revealed sarcastically, mason limping over to you as you held a look of concern.

“everything okay, mount?” you politely asked, the slight touch on his back as well as hearing his name fall from your mouth was sending him into a frenzy. he just nodded, and followed you inside to where your new office resided. “what the hell happened? last time i looked, you were kicking a ball about with chilly.”

your voice was as silky as he’d imagined. “yeah, he’s a bit slow. so he thought kicking me in the ankles would be a wise idea.” you couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s joke, avoiding his gaze as you were sure to blush. this man was attractive, but it was your first day, you had to remain professional.

“i better get to work,” you huffed, rubbing some hand sanitiser onto your hands and pulling his socks down. “we can’t have chelsea’s best player injured a few days before the game,” you’d finally met eyes and stared at each other for a brief second, before bashful looking away.

“you think that?” mason almost sounded unsure of himself.

“of course,” you grinned and applied some pressure to the side of his ankle, “i’d say you’re one of the best.” mason hummed almost silently, resting his head back on the table. it didn’t hurt, and if anything, he’d have to thank chilly for kicking his ankles, as it got you two talking.

weeks had passed, mason visiting your office most days with random excuses.

“my legs are fine. but maybe a shoulder rub for good luck?”

“i bought you a smoothie.”

“it’s cold outside, and i told the boys my thighs were sore.”

“now i’m just bored.”

every time he’d appear, you’d just pull up a chair instead of prepping the table. he’d talk to you about the most random of things, the pair of you having an intense debate on whether or not ross and rachel were on a break. he’d quickly become your favourite visitor.

“mr. mount, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you questioned, knowing it was him just by the way he fiddled with the handle before opening the door. he grinned at the nickname, sitting in the desk chair beside you.

“i actually came to ask if you wanted to go for a drink tonight. the boys were meant to, but now it looks like i’m all alone.” mason explained, a white lie thrown into the mix. he wasn’t being left by the boys, he asked them to cancel, so he could spend some with you. “so, you fancy it?”

“sure.” you smiled, accepting his invitation before you could overthink your way into cancelling. “i’ll text you my address.” he nodded his head, resting his head on his hands as you got on with paperwork. you could see out of the corner of your eye, he was staring at you as you worked. he had no training to be getting on with, and saw a better pastime in watching you work.

when you’d finally finished work and gotten yourself dressed up, mason was even more in awe of you. you looked adorable at work, and now he’d seen you in a new light. it’s like seeing your crush outside of school, it’s weird not seeing them in uniform, but seeing a new layer of them was good. he’d picked you up and taken you to the nicest pub he could find, it was a quiet one. it was a pub you had to pay extra for to sit on the terrace with a table to yourself. but he was willing to go the distance.

“it’s weird not seeing you in your kit.” you mentioned, staring at his impeccable sense of fashion. like he’d been ripped from the front page of asos. mason chuckled loudly and sipped on his beer, after doing a brief ‘cheers’ with you. it was british tradition, after all.

“i know. i’m used to seeing you in leggings and a chelsea top.” mason observed, his cheeks blushing at the way you looked at him. he felt the butterflies begin to swarm in his stomach, like they did on the way here. “now you’re in a dress, i can see your legs.” his eyes widened at the weird statement that just fell from his lips, face burning with embarrassment. “sorry, that sounded so creepy.”

you burst into laughter, feeling anything but disturbed. in fact, you felt more comfortable with him. “don’t worry about it, you’re easy to feel comfortable with.” mason took this chance to hide his rosy cheeks by sipping on his beer. the pair of you conversed for well over an hour, your conversations from work spilling into the mix too. and soon enough you were laughing on the walk back to your home.

“that’s hilarious. i can’t believe we could’ve almost met years ago.” you exclaimed, mason proud of recalling that memory. the pair of you remembered an awful christmas concert that happened in a town near central london, and were almost inches apart unknowingly covering your ears at the screeches made by the backup singers.

you’d ended up at your door, mason standing just centimetres away from your face. you knew what he wanted, and you wanted it to. so, with the confidence given to you by the mixer you’d just downed a while ago, you closed the gap between you and engaged in a sweet kiss with him. it was well overdue, mason’s teammates would say as he told them the following day.

you’d settled in really nicely with the team, enjoying every day you spent at the training grounds. you’d only been on that one drink date with mason, always planning to reschedule another but you’d both be too busy to do so. it didn’t stop you from texting nonstop and have some late night facetime calls. you were really beginning to like each other. it was as if nothing could ruin your happiness you felt with your life at this moment.

until you’d been pulled aside and told by chelsea’s own manager that a man united massage therapist had quit, offering you the job. it would mean your whole life would shift, you’d have to move, you’d have to make friends with a team all over again, and leave mason. you couldn’t bear telling him, which you’d also been told to do. you’d have to break the news to your beloved team, who would come and cheer with you after a win, and always pester you with random requests. you were each of their’s personal assistant almost, loving your relationship with them all. and mason, you knew he’d be crushed, the girl he was so deeply falling for, being told to move to another club.

you were on edge since that very morning, not being your usual joking self with your boys as they came in for their sessions. you’d weakly smile at them and make small talk whilst tending to their stiff joints, then let them leave. all the boys carried on with their day, assuming you were just having a bad day. but mason could see through you, he could tell something was playing on your mind.

as you were putting pressure on mason’s ankle, which he’d been take off the pitch for last week, he grabbed your arm gently. sitting up, he pulled you close to him and held you how he usually did. his hands grazing your sides and his eyes almost burning holes into your own. “talk to me, pretty. what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head. “i’d go easy on the foot today, mount. i don’t want to see you benched next game.” would you even be able to see their next game? it brought you close to tears throughout the day, but being trapped in a room with mason, you were bound to cry and tell him everything.

his grip didn’t leave your arm, instead he pulled you closer to him and held you close to his chest, now standing and towering over you. you felt a sob erupt through your chest, opening the flood gates as you cried into him. he’d never seen you like this, you were always his smiling ball of sunshine. “talk to me, y/n.”

“they’re moving me.” you simply stated, hoping not to say another word and him just understand completely. but it didn’t work like that, none of the team knew. mason would be the first to know, and you had to tell the rest of the team before the day was up. as this weekend you’d be arranging accommodation in manchester whilst you looked for permanent residence, as well as meeting the team and staff you’d be working for.

“what?”

“they’re moving me to united, mase. a therapist quit over there and they asked for me, your manager signed me over a few days ago. and i’m gonna be leaving you boys.” you explained, mason’s grip on you loosening as he tried to come to terms with what you were saying. he’d had his fair share of bad news in his life, but this was the biggest blow he’d felt in a while.

“they can’t do that,” mason stuttered over his tears, a frown cast upon his face, “they can’t just expect you to pack up and leave.” you placed your hands over his cheeks, forcing him to look down at you. that’s when his tears began to fall, looking so vulnerably at each other in this time of sadness.

“they can, mason. and they have, i need to go this weekend to meet the team and look to move up there.” you admitted, your hands refused to leave his face. you were soaking up every bit of mason you could before you left. long-distance didn’t work for either of you, especially with how busy you both were. the only time you’d see each other would be if chelsea were to play united.

“i can’t lose you, y/n.” he confessed, pulling you into him and resting his head above yours. it wasn’t just losing a girl he was seeing, it was losing someone he loved. he’d fallen deeply in love with you — but telling you would just hinder your movement. he couldn’t make it any harder than it was, it would ruin you. he just had to let you go.

that afternoon, you’d thought about what you were going to say and met the boys on the pitch. the second mason saw you, it took everything in him to not cry into his hands. but he managed to stay strong. you stood weakly beside the team manager, avoiding everyone’s eyes and fiddling with your jumper sleeves.

“afternoon boys,” you greeted them, hearing a few cheers and whistles, they loved you, “i have some news. today will be my last day working with you. i’ve been transferred to united, which will take full effect this weekend. you guys have my number if you just want to talk rubbish, or have any questions for me.” it was a long while of hugging them all, laughing with them and repeating little inside jokes with them.

“what are you going to do without me, huh?” you asked reece, who just chuckled and gave you a squeeze. “i’ll miss you all, you know who i’ll be cheering on if you ever go against united.”

you’d settled in at united perfectly, but something was missing. it was always going to feel this way, nothing would ever break the bond you shared with the chelsea boys. even when they went head to head, and you’d catch mason’s eyes on the pitch, you’d have to hide your smile when they scored, and try even harder if mason was the one putting it in the back of the net. you got on well with the boys here, but you found yourself missing the boys back at chelsea, and most of all, mason.

months had passed since your move to manchester, and you were heading out of your office on a particular tiring friday afternoon, walking past united’s manager, who always seemed to be on his way to something.

“ah, y/n, just who i needed to see.” he commented, stopping you as you were headed out to find a late rashford for his session. “keep an eye on your emails tonight, please. you’ve been included in an international offer.” you nodded, not hearing anything past the word ‘email’. and when you’d gotten home that evening, waiting for your takeaway to arrive, you mindlessly scrolled your emails.

something about the upcoming world cup, saying you’d been selected as the teams massage therapist. it burned your eyes as you danced around your tiny living room; so happy to have a chance at seeing any of the chelsea boys again. you’d thought that after all these months of just seeing mason’s face in his instagram posts, he’d have forgotten about you and moved on. but it was the furthest from the truth.

mason watched over your socials for months, seeing your various pictures with the likes of rashford, shaw, and lingard. he made sure you had friends and was having a good time up north. but every night he’d go to bed, yearning for you and the time you both spent together. missing your first kiss, missing hearing the sound of your laugh in real life, not just through another footballers videos. he missed spending hours on the phone. and although he had a chance to reconnect with you, it would be too much for the both of you to handle. he’d miss you so much more, knowing you were simply unobtainable.

after signing all of the correct documents to show you could in fact work for the national team, you were on your way to the training grounds and coping with living in the camp alongside the boys and other members of staff. it was better than your tiny manchester apartment, that was for sure. you weren’t really needed outside for training, so you set up your office and began on your paperwork. time passed a lot quicker here than it did when you worked at united, it was nearing your lunch break already. a knock was placed at your door, bringing your out of your work daze.

“hello, stranger.” you heard from behind you, heart overjoyed that it was actually him. it was your mason. you turned round to greet him, standing up and immediately pulling him into a hug. it felt familiar, the only bit of familiarity you had in this place. “god, i missed you.” he even smelt the same, as creepy as it was to say.

“i knew you’d be called up,” you admitted to him, looking up at his red face. it was just like the first time, he was so nervous to talk to you, “you’re still my best player.” his hands found your cheeks, taking advantage of the affection not feeling awkward. it was as if you never left.

“you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you all these months, y/n,” he whispered, face centimetres away from yours. “how much i’ve wanted to kiss you again.” you wanted it too, you finally felt like you found your missing piece. but you had to remain professional, this was national level now, not just club level.

“trust me,” you whispered back at him, holding your hands above his own, “i’ve wanted to kiss this pretty face, too. but we have to be professional.” he nodded, understanding that if they were caught, you’d be the one facing repercussions, not him. so he respected your choice and stood back.

“what about when the day’s over, and we go back to the camp,” he suggested, a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning around, “what would you say to me then?” you just shrugged, sitting back down in your chair and continuing your work. the remainder of your day was quiet, just talking about a few people tomorrow that have stiff joints that need loosening. you’d made your way back to camp, opening your door and sighing as you took your shoes off.

what room are you in? mason texted, waiting outside his door.

you’re eager, i just finished work. but i’m on the floor above you, room 39. you texted him back, speedily changing your attire for something more comfortable and freshening up. mason would be up here within seconds. and whilst there were no rules stating that the squad shouldn’t be in staff members rooms, it felt wrong.

“you’re gonna have to leave when nobody can see you.” you sighed, opening your door to an eager mason. he wormed past you and sat on your bed, semi annoyed that your bed was comfortable than his.

“so not only do you get a room to yourself, you get a bed that doesn’t feel like a plank of wood.” mason stated, clearly getting comfortable on your bed. “i just might have to stay here.” you rolled your eyes and sat beside him, resting your head on the pillow. “you tired?”

instead of saying anything, you nodded and inched closer to him. his right hand was drawing delicate patterns on your exposed arm, whilst the other was wrapped around you. this was the moment he wanted with you, even when you were working at chelsea. but it’s happening now and that’s all he cared about. holding the girl he still deeply loved in his arms.

“i’ll go down to dinner soon,” he mentioned, even if you could hear him or not, “maybe i’ll bring you something up.” a small kiss was placed on your temple, mason snuggling into you a bit more.

the next day, you knew you had some sessions. so you were up early, a text from mason on your phone.

i left late last night, i fell asleep once i came back from dinner. i hope you had a good night.

you blushed at his text, getting yourself prepared for the day. the boys had a match coming up soon and you wanted to be on top of your game, making sure they were all stretched and ready. you sat in your office, prepping your table and your paper work for the first person to enter.

you’d worked with grealish, bellingham, and lingard today. and they only had a few more hours training until they were done for the day. you sighed in your seat and rested your head against your desk, arms and hands sore. your handle was violently shoved down, your door opening in the process. startled, you watched declan carry his best mate in.

“he rolled his ankle taking a kick,” declan explained, helping his friend onto the table. you quickly sanitised your hands and pulled his sock down to observe his ankle. “will he be okay for the game in a few days?”

“yes, dec. he’ll be out in no time.” you reassured his friend, mason smiling through the sharp pain shooting through his ankle. declan had left shortly afterwards, leaving you to giggle at mason.

“what you giggling at, hm?” mason questioned, a finger tickling your side. you squirmed and brushed a hand over his head, his features relaxing under your touch.

“it’s always the ankles, hm?” you retorted, mason rolling his eyes before letting out a laugh of his own. “let’s get you back on your feet in time for this game.” you had taken his boot and sock off, applying gentle pressure to the sides of his ankle and seeing how badly he reacted to the pain.

after the next few days of training, it was finally time for the match. you stood nervously on the side of the pitch, watching the ball being passed around. you watched as it had gone to mason, someone from the opposing team sliding into mason, and knocking his ankles together. he fell and began to yell in pain, the medics rushing over to him and assessing the pain. after realising it was not too serious, but he still had to be taken off, they’d given the job to you.

mason sat on one of the chairs beside you, head leaned back as you pulled his socks down. he winced as your small, cold fingers had pressed different parts of his ankle, but it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it was quite relieving. “it really is always the ankles,” mason finally agreed, making you chuckle and sit on the floor opposite him, “god, it fucking hurts.”

“i will take care of you,” you mentioned, your hand sliding into his. he smiled at the contact, his free hands gently tickling your side. this small amount of public affection felt scary, but good. you knew someone would pick up on it, but you didn’t care in the slightest. you had been away from mason for far too long. months and months apart, yearning for each other every second you were awake.

when the match was over, england scoring a whopping 4-0, mason was by your side for the rest of the evening. even getting onto the coach to go home, he sat beside you the whole way; his hand in yours and his head gently resting against your shoulders. when heading back to camp, knowing you had a day’s break before the boys were back on for training again in time for the next match, mason followed you to your room. you didn’t mind, neither did anybody else really.

you’d gotten into bed beside him that night, eyes heavy from the amount of work you’d both put in today, and the buzzed feeling from declaring victory had awoken something in him. he had the urge to kiss you, like he has every moment he’s spent with you recently, but more than that. he wanted to tell you he loved you, but decided to keep quiet. he wanted to save it for another day, maybe someday more special, when you weren’t trying to catch up on sleep between games.

“are you tired of me?” mason asked, releasing his voice into the darkness. he had no idea whether you were awake or asleep, as half an hour had passed of you both enjoying each other’s presence. you were wide awake, although your eyes told a different story.

“i’m tired in general,” you admitted, rolling over to face him, barely catching his pearly whites in the dark, “but i could never get tired of you.” mason’s heart was beating through his chest, reaching out for your hand to place onto it. it was a special moment — feeling his heart rapidly paced from your words, you’d barely noticed mason’s arm around you as he pulled you into him.

“good, because i’m not letting you go again,” he spoke quietly, your hand now replaced with your head, feeling his pulses on your cheekbone. you smiled for the millionth time that day, happy you had your mason back.

[ikeromantic]

First Day

This is an Ikemen Sengoku coffee shop AU. Approx 1700 words. Nobunaga, the owner of Azuchi Cafe, hires a girl to work in his coffee shop alongside his other oddball employees.

Pastry Chef and little rain cloud: Ieyasu Tokugawa

Head Chef and irredeemable flirt: Masamune Date

Dining Room Manager and rule-master: Hideyoshi Toyotomi

Barista and most popular kid in your class: Ranmaru Mori

Barista and coffee disaster: Mitsunari Ishida

Accountant and walking bad-boy vibe: Mitsuhide Akechi

I have never written a coffee shop AU and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Nobunaga unlocked the back door at 3am. It was so early most people would still call it night, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet at this hour. As if he were the sole living human in a world of stray cats and blinking traffic lights.

He flipped on the lights and began morning prep. As the owner of Azuchi Cafe, he didn’t need to be the shop opener, but he was the kind of man who’d never ask his employees to do something he wouldn’t do himself. This meant he often worked from opening until close, cleaning the kitchen at 10pm. It was something he was proud of, even if it was exhausting some days.

Ieyasu arrived a few minutes later, along with the morning shipment. Fresh fruit, cream, some new coffee bean varieties, and other items he stocked daily. The blond was quiet as he helped unload. Not a morning person, not by a longshot.

Once the crates were inside, Ieyasu made a beeline for the espresso machine and had two cups on the counter before Nobunaga completed his inventory check.

The blond downed both cups and then got started in the kitchen. He was too smart for a cafe job - easily one of the best bakers Nobunaga had ever met. And this cafe was blessed with two, though the other man was a polar opposite of the silent, serious Ieyasu Tokugawa.

As if thinking of him summoned him, the back door swung open and in swaggered Masamune. “Good morning!” His voice was loud and vibrant, as always. He never needed caffeine to feel awake - Masamune was naturally caffeinated.

“D’you have to be so loud?” Ieyasu glared.

“Do you have to be such a grouch?” Masamune raised his one eyebrow. His other eye was covered with a pirate-style eyepatch. The look wasn’t just for effect. He’d lost his left eye to a childhood illness, but that hadn’t dampened his spirit or enthusiasm.

Ieyasu held up a dough covered middle finger in response and went back to making croissants.

Masamune put a hand to his heart. “Such cruelty.”

“Stop bickering and start cooking.” Nobunaga tried to sound stern but couldn’t help the little smile on his lips.

The two of them did, though the grumbling and sniping never really stopped.

While Ieyasu handled bakery items, Masamune was in charge of the grill. Hot sandwiches, soups, and whatever else he decided to put on the menu. Nobunaga had given up trying to restrain him. The man was a genius cook, and whatever he made sold, so it made sense to give him his head.

Akechi showed up next. Mitsuhide was an accountant by trade, with a law degree besides. He didn’t technically work at the shop, but he did the books and didn’t charge much for the work. Nobunaga wasn’t sure why he spent so much time at the cafe, but he’d become a fixture. Showing up before opening to do Azuchi’s books and then sitting in the dining area, working on his laptop for hours.

“Anything I should know about,” Nobunaga called, before Mitsuhide disappeared into the cafe office.

“If there was, I’d tell you. Probably.” Mitsuhide gave him his trademark smile, sly like a fox.

“It’s that probably that worries me.” Nobunaga frowned. He didn’t actually believe Mitsuhide would sabotage him. Not after so many years as a client. But with that man, you never quite knew where you stood.

Akechi shrugged. “I can’t think of a reason not to - but you never know.” He disappeared into the office, and soon the only sound from that room was the clacking of a keyboard.

The sky to the east was beginning to lighten, the stars fading from view. It would be time to open soon. As if on cue, Mitsunari showed up with Ranmaru in tow. They were the baristas, taking orders, making coffee, and serving the sit-down diners.

“Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” Mitsunari said this to Ieyasu’s back as he passed him.

The blond snorted. “It looks like every morning. Literally, exactly the same.”

“And every morning is beautiful.” Mitsunari Ishida smiled. “I am so lucky to work with such wonderful people. It will be a great day. I can feel it.”

Ranmaru laughed. “Absolutely. Just ignore old grumble-pants here. We are going to have an awesome day.”

“I am not old,” Ieyasu snapped.

“You are compared to me!” Ranmaru was the youngest in the crew, and he liked to remind the others about it.

“That’s enough. Get up to the front and prep the display. Both of you.” Nobunaga pointed toward the front counter.

Ranmaru gave him a pouty look, but did as he was told. Despite his penchant for causing trouble in the kitchen, he was great with customers, and pretty reliable.

Mitsunari didn’t seem to realize he’d been in the middle of the bickering. He just smiled and followed Ranmaru to the front.

That one, Nobunaga thought, was dangerous. At first impression, Mitsunari Ishida seemed like an airhead. Cheerful to the point of being vapid, and clumsy as well. But he could take orders faster than anyone else, remember which customer had which preference, and quote the menu without a glance at the board on the wall. He was great, so long as you didn’t ask him to pour the coffee.

At opening, Hideyoshi finally sidled in. He was the dining room manager, in charge of the servers, and everything on the front end. Nobunaga trusted him implicitly. Most cafe owners had to worry about theft and inattention from their cash-handling employees, but not him. Not with Hideyoshi Toyotomi at the counter. That man was a veritable saint, if sometimes a little melodramatic about his service.

“I know you told me I didn’t need to be here until 10, since you open. But I couldn’t let you handle everything alone.” Hideyoshi’s version of ‘good morning’ as he tied his apron on.

Nobunaga sighed. “You are my closing manager, Hideyoshi. You’re going to be stuck here until 10 or 11 tonight . . . and you realize, I do have employees here, helping, right?”

Toyotomi nodded. “Sure, sure. But extra hands always help with morning rush, right?”

“Right. And that’s why I have a new hire coming in at 8.” Nobunaga sighed.

“A new hire?” Mitsunari’s violet gaze lit up. “Will I get to train them?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ieyasu grumbled. “We want them to make coffee, not learn how to dump the pot on the floor.”

“Stop being so mean,” Ranmaru sniped back, defending Mitsunari.

“Hey, hey! The new employee isn’t gonna get trained by any of you. Clearly, the boss is going to put them with me. To pass on my culinary genius.” Masamune’s one eye sparkled.

“No, no, and absolutely not,” Nobunaga said, raising his voice. “Hideyoshi and I are going to train them. If the lot of you don’t terrify them into quitting on their first day.”

And that was the end of that discussion. It was 5am and the door opened. The steady stream of customers kept everyone busy for the next few hours. Lattes and cappuccinos, americanos and macchiatos, and decaf for those in denial. The flow began to slack as 8am approached. Most people were at work now, coffee in hand.

Clean-up started in the kitchen, and Hideyoshi began on the dining room.

The glass front door opened at 8am sharp. The new hire walked in. This wasn’t Nobunaga’s first time meeting her, but he still felt a twang in his chest as she smiled brightly at no one in particular.

“I hope I’m not late!”

Hideyoshi eyed her up and down, nodding to himself. Flat shoes, cute but practical. Hair pulled back sensibly - stylish, but not overdone. Professional clothes, fitted and comfortable. He hadn’t been part of the interview but he was feeling pretty positive about this candidate. He gave Nobunaga a nod.

“No, you’re right on time,” Mitsunari replied, leaning on the counter. His angelic smile was fixed on her.

The impact was obvious. One did not face the pure, focused joy of Mitsunari and not feel it. She blinked for a moment, stunned, her cheeks flushing. “Oh. Well that’s good, right?”

“Sure is,” Ranmaru said, coming around the side of the bakery display. He wiped his hands on his apron and held one out to her. “Welcome to Azuchi!”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Nobunaga grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m cuter when I say it.” Ranmaru’s cheek reply got a chuckle from Masamune.

The one-eyed chef came out from the kitchen to observe. He wasn’t looking for whatever qualities Hideyoshi had, but what he saw made him grin. “Well, lass, I���d say welcome again but that’d make me look like an idiot. How ‘bout I help you put on an apron and show you around the place?”

“Again, my line,” Nobunaga said tiredly.

Ieyasu poked his head out from the back and sighed heavily. “Great. Another fluff head to train. Look, when you get bored listening to these idiots, come find me in the kitchen. I’ll try to teach you to bake. I’m sure you can manage a simple recipe. Probably.”

The girl looked unsure how to respond. She finally shrugged. “Yeah, ok! I’m here to work, so whatever you want to teach me, I want to learn.”

“You’d be better off learning how to keep the books,” said an amused voice behind Ieyasu.

The girl’s eyes darted up as Mitsuhide came out from the back. “Not that I’m hiring. I don’t do internships either,” he continued. He stepped out from behind the counter and closed in on her like a stalking cat. His golden eyes slid down from her face, over her chest and hips, down her legs, and back up, slow as syrup. “Though I can think of some reasons to make an exception.” He handed her a business card. “For when you tire of this service job.”

“Ah, thanks?” She glanced at the card and by the time she looked up again he was gone.

“Everyone, get back to work. I’m handling the new hire. You’ll all get a chance to train with her. I want her to work swing, so she’ll need to know a little of everything.” Nobunaga clapped once.

The workers all got back to it, though not without plenty of backward glances.

Hideyoshi handed the girl an apron. “Good luck!”

[taebear0801]

Stray Kids Reaction to getting caught by a member in the act.

Warning ⚠️: this is smut also I am going to include Jeongin because he’s already turned 19 (he turned 19 in February).

—————

Bang Chan

He’s a busy guy and maintaining a relationship with you is hard. So when you guys get free time together it’s honestly such a blessing. Today was that day. You came over midday to bring some lunch for the boys who were hard at practise. And after a while, some of them decided to go to the arcade and the others stayed in the studio. So Chan took this opportunity to steal you away to spend some time together.

You guys were just enjoying each other’s presence while watching some tv and just talking but one kiss led to another and you were being carried by Chan to his bed whilst sucking on his soft skin.

“Babygirl, remember no marks, I still have promotions.”

“Well then I guess you will need to punish me” you whisper while looking at a red patch on his neck that is already turning darker.

Chan then lowers himself and positioned him between yours legs. Teasingly, he peels off your panties and the cold air hitting your wetness makes your moan.

“Please Chan. Do something.”

He beings to eat you out. He sucks and nips at your clit enjoying the way you squirm and whimper under him. But a couple minutes into this.

“Changbin messed up the wires in the studio-“ Jisung bursts in. “.. again”. He’s wide-eyed at the sight. Your naked form arching and responsive to Chans touch. His face buried in-between your legs with his strong arms pinning down your hips. Chan looks up threatening and Jisung takes his leave out the door.

“You ok y/n?” Chan asked with a sigh and he would not continue. Chan always forgets about his job and stress during intimacy and Jisung bursting in would ruin the mood for him. He would help you get dressed before helping Jisung and Changbin with the wires. Of course he would talk to Jisung about what he saw and would make sure he locks the door next time.

Lee Minho

You were in Minho’s shared room and the boys left to give you guys some well-deserved privacy. You are sitting on his lap and hungrily kissing each other. With the TV still on and too preoccupied with each other, you guys did not realise that Felix and Jeongin didn’t get the memo and kept playing video games in their rooms.

“I want you so bad” Minho says whilst nipping at your collarbone.

You tug at his shirt and he quickly complies. His hands also roam your naked half and now fighting for dominance you kick off your jeans and peel off his sweat pants.

“I finally have you all to myself” you say whilst he flips you under him. His heart flips when he hears your possessiveness. He pushes a finger in and relishes in your responsiveness to his touch.

“So fucking tight. Has it really been that long?”

“Please” He smiles and grabs a condom from the night stand. You feel him teasing your entrance before slowly pushing in. Both moaning at the closeness.

“Hold on baby” he warnes and before you realise it he’s pounding into you and your legs try to hold on to his hips. He rests your left leg on his shoulder and maintains his fast speed. Your moans are partially drowned out by the TV but Jeongin and Felix are concerned, thinking maybe you were crying. So they burst in without knocking and panic at the sight of your fucked out face and Minho pounding your body.

“Get the fuck out” Minho growls whilst buried in you and pulling the blanket on your form to protect you from their view. The boys gulp and run out the dorm, traumatised.

You were dazed from being fucked so you don’t fully comprehend what happened but Minho would continue fucking and probably be glad when he hears the boys slamming the front door. He would be salty like very upset because he thought that they definitely heard you and thought they wanted to see you guys fuck. He would not buy the excuses and you would need to reassure him.

Seo Changbin

It is 10pm and you and changbin are alone in the recording studio. You were sitting on the couch and on your phone waiting for changbin to finish so you guys can go back to the dorm. You love changbin with all your heart but he can be so stubborn.

“Just leave it overnight so you can get some new ideas tomorrow.” You try to convince him.

“But this isn’t perfect.” His frustration apparent.

You go over to him and start kissing his neck.

“Baby. Is you rest now you will think better later” he always listened to your advice and it was probably something the boys loved you for. He turns around and pulls you on his lap.

“I’m sorry for neglecting you baby” he whispered.

“You’re not though.” Reassuring him.

Your light grinding turns him on and before you know it, you feel him poking your inner thigh.

His chair was very expensive so he didn’t really want to get it dirty. So he carries you to the couch you were just on and position you on top of him.

“Ride me Jagi, I know you want it.” The thrill of fucking in the studio was always something you wanted to do. Him focusing on music producing was so attractive in your eyes.

Both of you are still clothed, because you can’t be fucked to get dressed after. So you take off your panties and push your skirt up whilst he pushes down his sweat pants to expose his member standing straight up.

You’re on birth control so it’s not your first time doing it raw. You line up your entrance and sink down deliciously down on his member. He throws his head back at your tight wet walls and let you bounce on him. His hand rests on your hips and guide your movements whilst trusting up.

Chan walks down the hallway of the studio intending to tell Changbin to take a break and go back to the dorm. But he walks in out you riding him and he is fed up. Poor Chan just wanted you guys to rest and he is low-key disjusted.

You and Changbin were embarrassed. You buried your head in his neck and sit there with his hardness still in you. You guys end up stopping but your blow him so that he can relieve himself and you guys would sneak back into the dorm and ignoring the disappointment from Chan.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin comes over to your shared apartment at around 4pm after his training on Friday. They just finished promotions and JYP gave them the weekend off to just chill. So Hyunjin takes this opportunity to spend the night at your apartment which is only around 20 minutes away from their dorm. So Hyunjin picks up some snacks at the store and you prep the movie and game night.

Its around 5 and Hyunjin realises he forgot his phone charger. He texts Seungmin and asks if they could deliver it to him when they go out to eat tonight. Seungmin texts back that they will go out to a resturant near your apartment soon but it quickly slips his mind when you start blowing Hyunjin on the couch.

Your warm mouth wrap around him and slowly bob your head. Hyunjin fed up by this takes control.

“So this is how you want to play Jagi” He flips you on your hands and knees and pulls down your sweat pants.

“Take off your shirt” hyunjin growls and you quickly take off his shirt you were wearing.

“No bra? My baby was ready for me”.

“Please fuck me”

He is stark naked and rips the condom wrapper with his teeth before rolling it on. Hyunjin gropes your ass and teasingly stroking your lips. Groaning out of frustration Hyunjin takes the hint and thrusts his length in fully. It takes you time to adjust but Hyunjin begins movement quickly. Your hands are fisting the couch but the fabric keeps slipping so you end up strugglingly to take the pleasure.

However, the jingling from the spare key Hyunjin gave Chan unlocks the front door and Seungmin enters with Hyunjin’s phone charger. The sight makes seungmin scream which catches hyunjins attention and he shields your vulnerability from Seungmin. But seung already dropped the charger and quickly exited.

Hyunjin would want to continue fucking you but would make sure you were confortable and would be glad that it was only Seungmin that caught him because he wouldn’t tell the other members.

Han Jisung

Jisung was practising his dance in the dance studio and you would visit him and watch him dance while he messes around. This time he would want you to dance with him and hold your waist as you guys joked around.

“Baby lets pretend like we are rich!” And so he would hold your waist and ballroom dance. But the close proximity would have both of you guys flustered.

You were pressed against him and his lips attaching on your neck. Your moan hungers him more and so you end up turning around and pressing your lips against him. Both of you fight for dominance and you win briefly scoring your tongue to roam his mouth but when you break away slightly, his tongue starts dominating your mouth. His hard on is pressed against your stomach so you break away and lower yourself whilst staring right at him. You knew he had a thing for you on your knees so you look this time to slowly untangle the straps to his sweatpants and free his member.

You take it into your soft hands and start tracing his veins. Jisung is a mess and he feels like his knees are going to fail him anytime. You start with kitten licks on his tip whilst stroking his base. This frustrates him because he knows from experience that you’re going to drag him out. So when you wrap your lips around him, he takes control and pushes himself in, resting his hands on the back of your head.

“I know you can take me like a good girl.”

And with that you gag when his tip hits the back of your throat roughly. Changbin enters the dance room bored without thinking about knocking and is disgusted at the sight. Jisung scrambles to pull his pants up and you standup and brush yourself. But Changbin closes the door and like chan just wants to erase that memory.

Jisung would be hysterical because he would be sooo embarrassed that his hyung saw this side of him and would not continue and would take sometime for sex to return to normal.

Lee Felix

Felix is a little weird. He’s shy but confident at the same time. So when you guys are playing games in the living room of the dorm at 4am and the other boys are in deep sleep it was a risky situation to fuck.

But that was the exact situation you were in. Felix kissing your jaw whilst fondling your breasts in his small hands. He is topless whilst you’re naked and he positions you on top of him. You’re confused by this because he still has his shorts on.

“Ride my thigh.” You begin to rock your body back and form and his hands are focused on your breasts. He enjoyed seeing how affected you were when he pinched your nipple or flexed his thigh.

But what he enjoyed most was when he edged you.

As you feel your orgasm creep up and Felix knows, he notices the way your legs twitch and close and how your hands grip onto anything you could. So Felix lifts you up and flips you on your back. Whilst he pulls down his shorts and rolls on your condom.

“I was so close why did you stop me” you whisper loudly angry and with tears in your eyes.

“To prepare you for this” Felix answers and he thrusts his wrapped member around you.

You bit your hand to prevent screaming and he maintains a slow and steady pace. It’s slow enough for you to beg for more but fast enough to feel the pleasure.

Except as you feel like you were about to come, Hyunjin walks to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He doesn’t hear you and you don’t hear him but when he walks into the living room to see how you were still awake. But poor boy almost drops his water as he walks in on you guys. You see him first because Felix’s back is to him. But you yell out and pull the blanket over you guys. Hyunjin would kind of just stand there and swear at you guys.

“Why the Fuck would you do this not the couch. We live here and use this couch.” Hyunjin would yell. Felix wouldn’t respond and just wrap both of you up.

“Go back to bed” Felix would angrily exclaim. Felix would be too shy to continue and would try to sleep it off.

Kim Seungmin

You are over at the dorm with Seungmin with the other boys still in the dorm. You guys have never had an issue with the boys because they always respected your time with Seungmin. You guys have had sex in the dorm with the boys before and they have never found out. Today was even better because Chan, Changbin, Jisung and hyunjin and Felix were in the studio working on a rap. So there weren’t many boys to disrupt you guys.

At first you were listening to Seungmin’s struggles with the new comeback and how stressed and empty he has been feeling recently.

“You are enough Seungmin. You always have been” you tell him to his face as you both sit on the bed. Seungmin feels his heart melting at your words. He always felt safe and happy with you.

“Thank you Jagi. I really needed that” You peck his lips softly and Seungmin grabs your face with his hands and returns with a deeper kiss. The kiss intensifies and he lays on top of you.The sensual feeling of his hands roaming your body and worshipping you like a doll had you so needy.

“Seungmin” you gasp rather loudly. He looks up and smiles at your fucked out expression. He prefers cute and caring girls but accompanying that he also has a corruption kink. So you being so pure usually but also being so needy in that moment gets him hard.

He teasingly strips you down naked and enjoy the sight of your needy expression. You sit up to kiss him and tug at his shirt and he takes it off. You run you hand down his v-line admiring his body. When seungmin takes off his pants, you position yourself on top and seung grabs a condom. You take the condom and put it on his member for him. Doing so drove him absolutely crazy.

“Use me Jagi” seungmin whispered. And without another second you line yourself but the moment you sink down on his dick. Minho bursts in-

“Have you seen Soonie? The orange one..” He stops when he looks at both of your naked forms. Seungmin quickly grabs the blanket to cover you but Minho spots soonie in the corner.

“I can’t believe my cat saw you fucking. You guys are disgusting” he would say jokingly but also dying on the inside from the sight he saw. Seungmin you probably put on a movie and snuggle with you to get both your mind off it and might laugh if off.

Yang Jeongin

You just got back to the dorm from shopping with Jeongin. Today was a free day and all the others went out either shopping or eating or playing. So when you guys got back to an empty dorm after you both teased each other in public, Jeongin would pounce on you. You guys would be kissing hungrily before he pushed you on to the bed.

“You thought you could be a fucking tease today and get away with it” he growled. And takes off your bra.

“So now you’re silent.” He laughs.

You decided to be more of a brat, “then show me.” And you wrestle his shirt off before licking a strip up his abs. Pushing you on the bed he removes your skirt and roughly pushes 2 fingers in.

“So wet baby. Did I do this” you nod finally succumbing to obedience. He fingers you to the point where his other hand had to press your stomach down to continue fingering you. You feel your orgasm crash over you. Your legs shaking and your hair messed around his pillow whilst you pant. Cheeks flushed, Jeongin would be so needy to fuck you roughly.He rolls on a condom whilst you calm down.

“You ok for my to continue” Jeongin asks still willing to show his soft side to you.

After you give your affirmative, he thrusts into you with your legs still shaking from that orgasm. Jeongin knows that you’re over stimulated and he loves how tight you are. As your nails dig into his shoulders to try to stop your body bouncing at every rough and fast thrust. Jeongin looks at your exposed neck and lightly wraps around your neck. This makes you moan louder and Jeongin would smirk at this.

“What a dirty girl, you’re tighter after I choked you”

“Im not” you say back.

But what you guys don’t know is that Cham came back with Jisung after grocery shopping. And they hear bed sqeaking and realise that it was jeongin and you.

“Should we-“ Jisung asked.

“Nah lets just pretend we didn’t hear this” and would leave the dorm with the bags and wait in the car. Poor Jisung.

[arieswonjin]

my go-to (barista/cafe au)

pairings: goo jungmo x reader

genre: fluff, enemies(?) to lovers if you squint

summary: dealing with customers has never been your favorite part of being a barista. especially customers like goo jungmo. and now you have to train him to become one? that’s just great. 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: none

song inspo: 커피를 마시고 coffee - reprise

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

"sir, may i ask if you’re going to order or not? you can step aside first if-"

"wait, wait. how different is the iced latte from the iced caramel latte?" says the man while still looking up at the menu overhead, lips parted, eyes squinted, and hands on the side of his neck, mid-scratch. you tapped the cash register impatiently and took note of how his sharp jaw moved as he scrutinized the menu. was it possible to hate someone at first sight? he was only your first customer of the day yet your blood was already boiling. either finals season was getting to you or this guy had a knack for testing your patience.

you walked to your part-time job every day at the break of dawn just in time for you to see most of the commercial establishments opening. people were going about their own mornings preferring to be undisturbed, you included. earphones in, you savored the few peaceful moments you had to yourself before the chaos of a morning shift.

more often than not, your shifts were totally and utterly uninteresting: you would be prepping ingredients to be used for the rest of the day and office employees or the occasional student running late for a 7 am class would be walking in and out to get their morning fix. there was also a bunch of cleaning left for you. the night-shift employee was simply not thorough enough to distinguish which mop to use for the spills. to this, you did your first of many eye-rolls for the day.

that being said, you weren’t exactly the most patient among your colleagues; however, the laid-back atmosphere this friendly neighborhood cafe had when it was not teeming with customers around the early afternoon almost made you forget about your subtle hatred for human interaction.

but today, as you started your shift at 6 am in the morning with your eyes barely open and a man who has been standing in front of you for more than three minutes, you remembered just why.

"well, sir, obviously, the caramel latte...has caramel." you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the stupid question, whispering the better part of your sentence to mask your tone. but as they all say, the customer is always right. what a nonsensical saying.

"give me a second. i’ll just call a friend to ask what to order here.”

to your distaste, the older male leisurely took his phone out from his brown coat and scrolled through his contacts like he had all the time in the world. oh, if he could only hear your inner thoughts.

“wait-” he flashed you a friendly smile while fumbling with the gadget. “hey, serim-hyung-"

the man flinched, almost too dramatically, when you placed both your palms on the counter with just the right amount of force to shake its contents. he expected to see you fuming but instead saw the softest expression on your face which, frankly, was scarier.

"one caramel latte, hot, with an extra shot of espresso and a pump of dark chocolate for?"

"goo jungmo." he replied, suddenly alert, phone still pressed to his ear. the dull sounds of a confused friend on the other line now went unnoticed.

"...goo jeonmo. coming right up," you punched in the order while holding a fake smile that started to hurt your cheeks and exhaled a breath you didn't know you’ve been holding. breathe, y/n, this will be a fine morning. he’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.

“it's actually goo jung-"

"5,000 won, please." you extended your palm to him without making eye-contact.

jungmo just stared at your hand for a few seconds, still dazed with your outburst. could that even be considered an outburst? how strange. "oh. here." and it just started to sink in that you practically made his order for him.

"hey, i didn't ask for a-" he leaned in to take a peek at the monitor, ready to protest against the sudden turn of events. all he wanted was to get a new kind of morning coffee at this new place before walking to the university, yet it seemed like the way you two met was enough to shake the morning drowsiness out of the both of you.

"it's good. it’s my go-to. consider it a secret special," you said nonchalantly and turned the monitor away from him. you handed him the receipt and gestured him towards the claiming counter. "next customer, please."

jungmo slowly slid to the side as he placed his hands inside his pockets. he just shook his head, trying to wipe away the amused smile he now unconsciously had on his face while thinking about the humor in this encounter.

“oh shoot. sorry, hyung. did i wake you? my bad... but i guess you have to get up now, huh?” he laughed mischievously, getting back to the phone call left unattended a few moments ago. “oh, it was nothing! i’ll tell you about it later. it’s funny, really.”  

with a quick glance at your nameplate, he started to think about what other interesting encounters would take place in this cafe in the following mornings. maybe he just found his new pre-class route.

the rest of the week was uneventful to say the least. your encounter with the unrealistically good-looking yet annoyingly slow customer was now far forgotten. as per usual, university kept you busy outside of work.

you’ve always thought your part-time job jived well with your college degree. after all, there’s nothing like the scent and taste of coffee to keep a pre-med student awake in front of their brick-like pathophysiology books. all those extra shots of espresso and doses of dark chocolate are enough to keep your eyes open and your mind running for countless all-nighters.

and that was exactly what you were planning to do tonight. clad in your most comfortable sweater which replaced your coffee-stained apron, a cold drink in hand, you made your way to the haneul university library.

seoul started and ended its day just like any other famous metropolis. jungmo observed this everyday as his feet took him to where he needed to be like it's second nature. but that one wednesday when he broke his routine and entered a new side-street cafe, his morning became unlike any other stroll to the university and he was sure to go back.

for two very unexpected reasons.

first, because he was surprisingly offered a part-time job (a funny coincidence. who would’ve thought the cafe owner was his father’s high school bandmate?) and second, well, because he found himself craving your go-to drink. that genius mix really got to him. and to think that he didn’t even order it himself.

he pondered dropping by the cafe before his first day of barista training tomorrow as he stood up to exit the university library. jungmo just spent most of the evening finishing a 10-page world history paper, his last agenda for the day.

“agh… my back hurts.” he stretched before grabbing his jacket and the last of his things from the study table.

“y/n? the book you were looking for was just returned here,”

jungmo involuntarily snapped his head towards the front desk, reacting to the name called out by the resident librarian. he scratched his neck in confusion as he looked for the source of the voice.

“ah, thank you. i’ll take this,”

so it’s really that y/n from the cafe? he followed you with his eyes as you walked back to the library table that you were occupying alone. jungmo, his mouth frozen in a small ‘o’ at yet another coincidence, might just have a change of evening plans. haneul university was truly full of surprises. and good ones.

“long night?”

you abruptly looked up from the stack of notes you were studying intently, unable to properly respond to jungmo’s small talk. nonetheless, the look of recognition on your face was enough to urge him to continue.

“one caramel latte, with an extra shot of espresso and a pump dark chocolate for y/n. but you seem to be having it iced now?” he looked over at the drink on top of your desk, trying to use his wide smile to start a conversation. it’s how people almost always immediately warmed up to the charming and childlike goo jungmo. he silently hoped you were not an exception, even if he straight up just mocked your lines.

“you study here?” you asked when you recovered from the sudden greeting, if you could even call it that.

“well, obviously, i do.” jungmo mocked you again, all in good fun. he successfully replicated the tone you used with him during your not-so-pleasant cafe encounter.

you sighed in defeat. you really did feel sorry for the way you acted. it was a good thing you still even had your job. “i’m sorry for how i acted that morning. i guess it was the stress getting to me. jeonmo, right?”

“goo jungmo, actually.” he laughed, finally succeeding in correcting the mistaken name at which you just facepalmed in embarrassment. “no worries. i was really slow, wasn’t i?” he scratched the back of his head, a tinge of realization crossing his facial expression. you nodded with pursed lips.

“but hey, at least i got three good things out of that morning in bt cafe.” he casually sat on the chair next to you and pulled up three fingers, counting down while he spoke. “the drink was good, and i got a new job there, and...”

“wait, you’re the new recruit i have to teach?! you know i have to work nights now, right?”

maybe it was the way he sat down beside you so comfortably or how adorably foolish he looked with that habitual scratch to the neck, but holding a casual conversation with this jungmo wasn’t hard at all. the first impressions my 6 am-self created are really unreliable.

“you make it sound so sketchy. it’s a cafe job, not some underground cult.”

you rolled your eyes at his joke and scoffed, internally thanking the heavens for his humor that’s making this sudden interaction so light-hearted. he waved the previous statement off and continued. “turns out bt cafe stands for boys in trouble, my father’s band back in high school.”

“your father is mr. kim’s bandmate?! he talks endlessly about his band phase!”

“shhh!” both of you bowed to the librarian who was peering at you through the shelves on your far-left.

“best bandmate, mind you. it’s the reason why i picked up some guitar skills growing up.” jungmo gets immersed in your now-hushed conversation, making himself lean back on the library chair despite not having any work to do. you did the same, unconsciously leaning in to hear more about your boss.

your pending tasks were left undone for the meantime and you and jungmo were subjected to about three more glares from the librarian that night.

night 1: bt cafe

the training starts.

“coffee beans. they all look the same.” now wearing an apron identical to the one you had, jungmo stood in front of the cafe pantry trying to decipher the coffee beans you’ve been introducing to him without their respective labels.  

“that’s what amateurs always say,” you teased. from the previous night, you already established how fun it was to see his reactions to even the smallest attempts to irritate him. it was a good thing trainings took place in the early evenings when you actually had the energy for a bit of fun.

“well, i am an amateur. that’s why you’re teaching me, sunbae.” jungmo jabbed back and followed you around the main counter, hands clasped together as he tried to act like a cute and enthusiastic junior.

you pretended to cringe and broke in laughter when he whined. “back to the coffee beans…”

night 7: bt cafe

within a week, jungmo got the hang of working the bulky and stubborn espresso machine. he has yet to produce a perfectly good batch without burning himself, though.

“i’m surprised you even have the time for a part-time job, pre-med.”

“i could say the same to you, mr. pilot. don’t you have plane diagrams to memorize--ow! that’s hot!” you retreated from the hot cup he was handing to you.

“shit, did I burn you?” jungmo instinctively took your hand and started to look for any redness and swelling, turning your hand over in his. “where does it hurt?”

“.....i’m okay.” you looked up at the much taller male and slowly slid away, finding the sudden proximity quite foreign.

“a baristas hands are precious. let me get a cold towel,”

you followed his retreating figure with your eyes, noting how easily he blended in with the rest of the cafe, apron and all. with a shake of your head and a repressed smile, you might have just thought about calling him cute.

night 10: bt cafe

“....then, after that you just let the coffee drip by itself for about 15-20 minutes- yah.”

“hmm?” jungmo straightened up from having his head on his palm, elbows against the counter. “sorry. you kinda looked...cute...when you were focused.” he said softly without making eye-contact as he mimicked the coffee drip set-up you just made. he realized that it was a weird feeling, suddenly being timid like this.

“tch. focus.” you turned your back to place some ingredients back on their shelves, taking this opportunity to smile and recollect yourself before going back to watching jungmo’s progress.

night 14: university grounds

"you really don't have to bring me these to track your progress..." you saw jungmo waiting outside the biology laboratory for the third time this week, thermos clutched in hand. a few days ago, he insisted on buying his own coffee drip set to get some practice at home. talk about being thoughtfully extra.

"i mean, yeah, we're together every night but you have to see how i do it on my own!"

"shh! people will take that out of context, idiot!" you looked around at the waves of people piling out of the laboratory, worried someone might overhear. jungmo just teased you by wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a smack to the shoulder.

night 20: bt cafe

“yes, y/n, to what do i owe this pleasure of a phone call from you?” jungmo answered his phone after several rings. you were beginning to worry that he got into an accident. why was he so late to his training tonight?

“where are you?”

“i might not come tonight. important presentation tomorrow and we might have to pull an all-nighter. don’t worry! i already told our boss. wait, you’re actually looking for me.”

“i mean, you’ve been coming every night so…”

“y/n misses me.” you almost hear his teasing face through the phone lines. jungmo heard your eyes roll in turn.

“uhm, no, thank you. i’m hanging up.” you put your phone back inside your pocket only to retrieve it after a few seconds when you received a message notification.

don’t worry! i miss you too!

night 30: haneul university library

“agh. how am i ever going to save lives like this?” the sound of resignation in your voice made jungmo look up from his laptop. aside from the regular trainings, you and jungmo have arranged regular study sessions. it’s safe to say that you’ve been spending a good fraction of your week with your fellow haneul student, workmate, and, as it now seems, a special friend.

“you’re keeping me alive just fine, though, doc.” jungmo walked over to your side of the library table and ruffled your hair while your face was still buried in your textbooks. his previous statement went unnoticed. “you should go home early tonight. i’ll take you.” he pulled you up by the arm, shaking you to encourage you to stand up as you grunted.

“thanks, mogu.” 

he just nodded at you with a smile and held out his arm to drape around you while you walked. “let’s go.”

night 40: university garden

“hey, you never told me about the third thing.” you sat on the garden bench, stopping jungmo’s strides and pulling him to sit too.

"hmm?"

“the third good thing you got from that day at the cafe. you got a good drink, got a job and….?” you urged him to continue, expecting the answer to be something trivial. after all, it was something he told you on the first day you properly met. would he even remember what the third thing was?

“that? the third thing is that..." jungmo took his time and pretended to fix his jacket, intentionally stalling until you glared at him.

"....i met you.” the casual tone in his voice and the giggle that accompanied it made it seem like it was something he said everyday.

"liars go to hell. and you're full of cheese."

"but you love cheese." he shrugged. knowing you couldn’t deny this, jungmo stood up and pulled you by the hand, ready to walk you home like what the both of you have gotten used to.

night 50: bt cafe

“so you sold your coffee drip set to wonjin because…?” you were fixing up the last of today’s orders with jungmo waiting beside you to place them on their cup holders.

“i don’t need to make coffee for myself anymore. you speed up my heart just fine throughout the day now.” he secured the cups and held them out to the waiting customer. “come again!”

“goo jungmo.” you turned bright red and hid your embarrassment by slapping jungmo’s arm. “don’t fool around like that.”

“ey. i just confessed, can’t you be a little more accommodating?” jungmo ran to the door and flipped the cafe sign from open to closed. “should i have written it in latte art or something? i like you. would 8 letters fit in that tiny cup?”

“you call that a confession?” this earned the iconic whine from goo jungmo. "hey, idiot!" you called to him from across the empty cafe and scratched your neck like he always did, for effect. "i like you, too."

night 77: bt cafe

“shift’s over. what are you doing?” you leaned on the counter to take a peek at what jungmo was doing. there were no customers anymore so you were wondering what was keeping him so busy.

“one caramel latte, iced, with-“

“—an extra shot of espresso and a pump of dark chocolate...” you continued his sentence, nodding your head in time with the words.

“...for my y/n,” jungmo finished and handed you a cup with both hands. you took it with a playful squint of your eyes. 

you took a sip, keeping your eyes on the expectant jungmo. a moment of silence ensued.

“jungmo. i love you….but-”

“i love you too.” he hurriedly replied without hesitation.

“…but i still make the best version of this.” you smiled victoriously, sticking your tongue out at him before drinking the rest of the latte which you admitted tasted pretty close to your specialty. jungmo just raised his hands up in defeat and proceeded to watch you drink his version of the go-to drink that brought you two together in the first place.

“if i get to see you smile like that, do i really want to get it right?”

[multifanficss]

Emergency Room (BTS X READER)-21

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry, I have not updated yet, I just started a new job which meant I had to go each day this week for training. However, Thank you so much for all the support and patience. I really appreciate it. Thank you once again, and here is part 21 :)

October 31. (Yes I know it's not October but... I'm sorry lol)

Y/n's POV:

Halloween. The one night of the year people go out, dress up whatever they want to be, and have fun. Sometimes having too much fun can be very risky, which is why the E.R. becomes very busy during Halloween. Tonight both, Taehyung and I, decided that the both of us would work the whole day. It is currently 10:00 am and I was filling out paperwork with Janet. "This is the last one you need to sign, and here is the next patient chart," Janet said as she handed me the chart while I signed the document and handed it to her. "Thank you Janet and after I see this patient please send the signed documents to radiology," I said. "Yes, I will." She said smiling. I thanked her once again and went onto my next patient. This patient was a 7-year-old boy who seemed to be having a lot of stomach pain, "Good morning, my name is Dr.L/N, I will be your doctor for today, what seems to be going on?" I said as I began to give the boy a checkup. "This morning, he just woke up not wanting to eat and saying his stomach hurt and it began in the middle and now is in the lower right side." The mother said as the child look to be in a lot of pain. "alright, nick can you tell me exactly where it hurts." I said and the child pointed. "alright well I will have the nurse start an Iv and begin to do some lab work so we can quickly see what's going on. I will also call the pediatric surgeon so he can also take a look at him." I said. "thank you," the mother said and I excused myself and paged jungkook. Then I went back to filling documents.

I looked over at Taehyung and saw that he was giving a patient medication and discharge them. Once I saw him look in my direction I quickly looked away. Then I heard some footsteps and felt someone standing next to me. "Don't act like you weren't staring." He said chuckling. "I wasn't, I was looking at the vitals," I said. "For my patients?" he said. "Yes, double-checking couldn't hurt," I said and he nodded. "So what should we get for lunch?" he said. "I actually promised B/F/N we would get lunch," I said and he frowned. "Well, can I join?" he asked. "Nope. This is my only time I see her, we can get dinner later, okay?" I said and kissed his cheek and felt my pager go off. I told him I had to go and quickly went to the room my patient was in. "What's going on?!" I asked the nurses. "Dr. Jeon came in 30 minutes ago and said it was just the flu but the child has gotten worse. Here are the labs," she said as she handed me the lab results. "This isn't the stomach flu, this is appendicitis. How has his temperature change?" I asked the nurses. "It's slowly been increasing." That's when I paged Jackson, my intern for the day and, Jungkook. "Mam, I believe that his appendix is going to burst or has burst, we need to get him into surgery now, is that okay?" "yes, please, help him," she said as she had tears. She then kissed her child's forehead and that's when Jackson came in. "Please call the O.R. and tell them to prep for us," I said to the nurse who has to the side of me." she nodded and left. "Jackson, let's go. quickly and go ahead of me so you can scrub in first." I said and we both left.

During surgery, we had just removed his appendix. That's when Jungkook came in. "What happened?" he said as he put on gloves. "Well, you mistook this child's pain, symptoms, and labs for the stomach flu. It was appendicitis," I said as I began to close up. "That can't be possible," he said. "Well, that's what happened," I said. "You know what, I don't have time for this, I went out of my own surgery to help you, and instead you are just blaming me. Where were you? huh. I didn't see you at all when I was giving my consult." he said and began to take off his gloves. "What?! I was in the E.R the whole time. Plus, I was helping other patients. You are literally a pediatric surgeon. not to mention a really good one. What is going on?!" I said. "You want to know what’s my problem. My problem is you. All you do is ask for my help and look at how I am treated. Next time, ask someone else the hospital has more pediatric surgeons." he said coldly and walked out. It hurt. I stopped stitching and took a deep breath. "Would you lie me to close up?" Jackson asked. "Yeah, I'll just watch...um.. to make sure you do everything well," I said and he nodded. For the rest of the surgery, It was quiet.

Once the child was out of surgery and in recovery, we notified the mother she thanked us. "I will take her to the room, Dr.L/N. You can go get your lunch." I thanked him and went to the cafeteria. I saw B/F/N, but she was talking to Hoseok so I decided to just go and sit in the playground area that they have for the parents and kids. I sat on a bench and looked at the sky.  After my lunch break was over, I went back and went to the E.R . my day was not going very well and my afternoon shift hasn't begun.

End of y/n's POV

Taehyung's POV

I went to the cafeteria when it was lunchtime. I saw B/F/N sitting with Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin. I went to join them. "Hey Everyone, um B/F/N, wasn't Y/N suppose to join you," I said. "Yeah, But she never joined. I haven't seen her," she said. "Would you like some?" Seokjin said as he handed me some of his food. I took it and began to eat. Soon Jackson, Y/n's intern joined us. "Hey have any of you seen Y/N?" He asked and we all shook our heads no. Then Jungkook came and sat down. He looked annoyed. "What's wrong?" Yoongi asked. He didn't respond. Then I heard Hoseok say "Oh look Y/Ns over there sitting at the playground benches, " I turned around, and there she was but she was staring at the sky and would look at the kids and parents as well. I was standing and the B/F/N stopped me. "Leave her be. She does this, she will tell you hats wrong but it's better to let her be, for now, trust me. she wants space." I sat down and looked at Jackson. "What happened in the O.R.?" I said. Then Jackson stood up like he was about to yell but took a deep breath instead and said. "Ask Jungkook, he knows exactly what happened." Then Jungkook stood up and left.

end of 21

*p.s. would you guys like part two of this part? describing jungkook’s pov and motive?*let me know!!:)

[abyss-in-machines]

PROMPT 3: ICE CREAM

AO3

The plan is simple. Actually work hard for once in this dead ass-job that he had mired himself into for ages. Do every possible job handed to them. He might also have to sneakily convince Baba to advertise the Yorozuya, cause work was always scarce. Maybe he could call in some favours from the Prime Minister, but that would be way to easy for something like this. He wanted to earn this, like he never wanted anything else. Maybe even ask Hinowa for work… that could be possible. His skills will never get rusty, and sword training has surprisingly revitalized since the war. Maybe, just maybe, he could get this one right.

Gintoki was a nervous wreck planning this. He usually didn’t plan anything at all, and had always swung with what life had gave him. But this time, the problem posed was truly a rigmarole that he’d have to navigate in the most careful of ways. He had to make sure that the scenery, the timing, the actions, and the object itself was as pristine and perfect as possible. Somehow, it had woken a perfectionist side of him that he never knew existed, and while he was happy about being motivated for an event like this, it was also nerve-wracking and emotionally draining. The fact that he had to keep it a secret from everyone but a select few didn’t help one bit.

Well, even if it all burns down to the ground, I’ll have strawberry ice cream to keep me company… oooh, shit. I have to budget for the ice cream too…

With that in mind, Gintoki got to work. To repeat, Sakata Gintoki actually started working hard for once.

*

Everyday, Shinpachi’s confusion grew. He couldn’t make sense out of what he had been witnessing for the past couple of weeks. The silver haired samurai was… working. Working hard.

Dedicating every resources he had towards the job, the man somehow morphed overnight, and the odd jobs business followed suit. Shinpachi had never seen more than two customers at a time requesting jobs in the headquarters, much less a line of people. He felt like he had seen some of them hanging around Otose’s bar. Now that he thought about it, most of the people frequenting the bar were Kabuki-cho working class people, local business owners and such, coming over for drinks and food after a long day of work. He did remember Gintoki muttering about trying to negotiate with Otose-san about advertisements, but he never thought that Gintoki would go through with it.  

They’ve never had work, let alone this much work. Shinpachi had to arrive earlier at Gingko’s place these days just to get everything in the place cleaned up. The first time he did show up early, he received the shock of his life, as he saw Gintoki up already, preparing breakfast for all three of them. Kagura had to be woken up grudgingly, but Gintoki had seemingly baited her with mounds of eggs on rice every morning. The man would never wake up any later than one in the afternoon, yet here he was, all ready and set by eight forty-five sharp.

For the first time, Yorozuya was actually making profit. The sheer number of requests from local businesses and the general public (as well as the unusual mob requests too, mind you) funded all the food and living expenses that they would usually incur as debt, and more. Gintoki actually paid the rent on time, as Otose happily exclaimed the first time he did. He was smartly utilizing the profits as well, somehow managing to fund advertisement and reach for the Yorozua over time. For the first time in ever, Gintoki managed to pay both him and Kagura with a consistent wage over the months. This wasn’t just uncanny, it was straight up a huge anomaly on the laziest man that Shinpachi ever knew in his life.

As he dusts the sofas, recollecting, he notices Gintoki busy peering over the account balances on the table. He seemed to be carefully scrutinizing all the numbers, before finally letting out a sigh and slacking back on the chair.

“Just a couple more to go, Patsuan,” Gintoki loudly exclaims, as he gets up and walks to the fridge, opening the door to look for his strawberry milk.

“Before what, Gin-san?”

Gintoki sniggers, grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing.”

Shinpachi shrugs, and kept on dusting. Gintoki plops down back on the chair with the milk carton, happily indulging in the milk.

“Oh also, Gin-san, why do we have so much ice-cream in the freezer?”

Gintoki pauses for a while, slowly turning to Shinpachi with a dead stare.

“Urusai.”

*

“Shin-chan tells me that you’ve been awfully hard at work nowadays, Gin-san,” Otae said softly, her trademark innocent smile plastered on her face. Gintoki shuddered.

It was a hot, sunny day, and Otae had hired the Yorozua for house cleanup to fix up any possible leaks in pipes and structures. Since he had already assigned the other two into other jobs, Gintoki decided to attend to Otae’s job personally. And now here he was, checking up on the dojo hall, the last place remaining. Of course she was here, training with her naginata.

“How’re things going with Tsukuyo-chan, Gin-san?”

“Huh? Swimmingly, I guess. She’s finally starting to get my jokes, although I still get those random kunais to the forehead.” He rubs his chin, deep in thought. “Oh, I also got her to like parfaits! She’s slowly warming up to chocolate, but says too much sweets are bad. I strongly disagree.”

She smirks. “Planning to tie the know anytime soon then?”

Gintoki shakes. “Hmph.”

Otae laughs, figuring it out. She puts the naginata down and approaches Gintoki, holding a small parcel, with a wad of bills on top of it. She hands it to him, who slowly reaches out a hand, wondering what this was all about.

“A bonus for the job, and for what’s to come, if I’m not wrong.” She smiles, looking at him earnestly. “This arrived early in the morning, as per your instructions. Good luck, Gin-san. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Ginkoti shrugs, smiling.

*

“I know what you’re trying to do, Gin-san,” Hinowa grins, seeing Gintoki arrive at the porch, winded.

“If you do, then pray tell me why are you trying to murder me with all these difficult tasks, eh?” Gintoki snarls, peeved. Hinowa giggles, incensing him more.

“Are, calm down, Gin-san. If I do recall, you were the one asking for jobs, no matter what.”

“I know, but holy shit, the training regimen the Hyakka follow… it’s a miracle I’m in one piece after every one of those sessions. Tsukuyo really gets them all prepped up.”

“You know her, Gin-san.”

Gintoki shudders, taking a seat on the porch step, while Hinowa approaches closer.

“You know, Gin-san, she would never say no. You worry too much.”

“Easy for you to say…”

Hinowa laughs again. “I’m honestly surprised. You did put a lot of effort into this. As her big sister, I couldn’t be more happier for her.” She turns to Gintoki, beaming. “I wish you all the best, Gin-san.”

He grins. “Don’t worry. I got ice cream, just in case.”

*

The date went as smooth as possible, and yet she couldn’t help but worry about him. Gintoki had been acting… much more earnest the whole day. Treating her to a movie, getting parfaits, he had funded the whole thing. They had been out the whole night, to the point where he was walking her back home late at night. Even the Yoshiwara streets had gone quiet, for people had closed up early. Makes sense, as tomorrow was the beginning of a new week.

Even so, the date was fun. She had needed a break like this for a while. Work was definitely much more stress than usual, and age was slowly, yet definitely taking its toll. She wasn’t much old, mind you, but years of work and toil with the Hyakka took a toll on her body. Gintoki too knew it very well. He had definitely lifted her spirits in tonight’s date, even though she was pretty sure that she had been sleepy for most of it. However, he understood, and had kept on through it all. She was truly lucky, truly blessed to have had the privilege of having a relationship with Sakata Gintoki. Words fail to express her gratitude for his presence.

In deep thought, she realizes that they had reached Hinowa’s place in no time. The porch lights were on. She turns around to wish him goodnight, only to find him on his knees, with a hand reaching out, a small open box lying on the palm. Inside the box was a silver ring.

She gasped, hand covering her mouth, shocked. She couldn’t believe it. He grinned, and cleared his throat.

“Marry me, Tsukki.”

*

“You know,” he started, as they walk back to his place after exiting Hokuto Shinken. They’d been out on another date since then, both wearing their engagement rings. “I, uh, still have a lot of chocolate ice cream left. We could use that for desserts after the spicy ramen.”

“Why do you have so much ice cream to begin with?” Tsukuyo groans. “I specifically remember warning you about your sugar intake.” He does a double take.

“C’mon Tsukki, it was necessary, ya know,” he shrugs, looking away. “In case…”

Tsukuyo grins, gripping his hand tighter. “Fine, fine.” She holds up her right hand to catch a glimpse of the silver ring, and smiles serenely.

The things we idiots do for love…

[simp-for-spencer-reid]

Sugar with a Side of Coffee Ch.5

Chapter 5: Technologically Inept.

The next morning, Cate was scheduled to work the cart. Upon checking her phone, which she had done compulsively the day before, awaiting a text from Spencer, and there was still no reply. After feeding Shrimp and showering, Cate was on her way to The Empty Mug. Miranda and Marcus were waiting at the counter with Marta as Cate came inside.

“Your baking has been such a big hit, Cate!” Marcus was stocking the register as he spoke to her. “You’re doing a great job with the cart, too.” Both Miranda and Marcus smiled at Cate. 

“Thank you, I really appreciate that.” Cate put her apron over her head and adjusted her nametag and was ready to get to work. She went to the back to put her things away and grab the cart. Saying her farewells to Marta’s parents and Marta, she was off for the morning on the cart.

Setting up in the usual spot, Cate set out the chalk menu and positioned her baked goods on the counter. A few customers lined up, and Cate was so busy serving them, she didn’t notice Spencer get in line. When he approached the counter, to say it was awkward was an understatement.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m not good at-” They both spoke at the same time. Spencer and Cate let out nervous laughter. “You first.” Spencer told Cate. She nodded and took a breath.

“Um, sorry if I was a little harsh with the whole Kate and Cate thing.” Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Oh, god, no! Not harsh at all. I, um. I’m terrible with texting. And I felt like I had already messed up, so I didn’t answer for the rest of the day, which I’m realizing sounds so stupid right now.” As his ramble went on, he trailed off. Cate gave him a soft smile.

“I should start making your coffee.” Cate noticed the growing line of impatient business men and interns. 

“What time do you get out of work today?” Spencer asked as she turned her back. Cate turned back around after a few with his large hot cup filled three-quarters of the way in one hand and her sugar pourer in the other. 

“The cart shift ends at 4 today but after I help finish cleaning up the shop I’ll be officially done at 5.” 

“Would you mind if I come by?” Spencer looked at Cate nervously. Cate felt her stomach do flips.

“Yeah, that would be totally fine!” Cate mentally facepalmed for being so eager. 

“Great, I’ll see you then.” He smiled at her and Cate smiled back. She watched him walk off, glancing at him up and down. 

Cate noticed Brooke a few people away in line. She briskly made her way through the next few customers. In between orders, she prepped Brooke’s usual order for her graphics design team. 

“Long time no see.” Brooke greeted with a smile. “Been busy?” She quickly texted on her phone while waiting for her order.

“Yeah, this cart has been keeping me busy. What about you? Haven’t seen you in a while. New projects?” Cate handed her a cardboard tray with her team’s orders. 

“Tons. I’ll try and catch you on my break!” Brooke shouted over her shoulder. Cate shook her head at the busy girl and got ready for the next customer. 

Cate’s entire shift seemed to go in slow motion. The hours dragged and it felt like the line of customers never dwindled, only grew. Cate was excited yet anxious about seeing Spencer tonight. Her apartment wasn’t clean, but that was assuming they’d go back to her apartment. Was he going to just visit after hours at the shop again? Cate let her mind wander of the night’s possibilities. 

Her mind reeled with different scenarios she envisioned. Did he expect to try her baking again? Did he want to have another after-hour coffee? Maybe he planned something? She didn’t have clothes to go out after work. As Cate was thinking ahead of herself, she realized that it was nearing 4. She walked around her cart, grabbed the chalk menu and was getting ready to close up the cart and head back to the shop. As she gathered her items on the counter, the baked goods, cardboard cup sleeves, and jar of stirrers, she saw Spencer approaching. 

“Hey,” Cate straightened up. “right on time.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her apron, hoping it was discreet to the agent.

“Yeah I uh, snuck out a little early.” He smiled, adjusting his brown leather satchel over his shoulder. Cate looked at him, probably a bit too long. She looked at his red cardigan, his patterned button up, and his black tie. 

“Well, everything is all packed up here.” Cate unlocked the wheels of the cart to allow them to roll. “Walk with me to the shop?” Cate grabbed the handles of the cart and began pushing it towards the shop. 

Spencer walked by her side, and tried to maintain the same gait, despite his long legs and her pushing the cart. He wondered if he should offer to help her push, but ultimately decided against it. 

“So,” Cate started, glancing at Spencer while she pushed the cart. “What do you do as an agent?” Out of the corner of her eye, she could barely see Spencer Look at her every so often.

“I work in the Behavior Analysis Unit at the Bureau. We study crime scenes and other forensics to create a profile of what the unsub is like. We present it to the police, and we help catch the serial killers.” He noticed he was talking with his hands, so he shoved them in his pants pockets.

“Wait, back up. What is unsub?” Cate asked, scrunching her face.

“Oh, that’s a shortened slang we use for Unidentified Subject. It’s like the suspect before we know who it is.” He tucked his long hair behind his ear. Cate nodded.

They arrived at the shop sooner than Cate realized. Spencer held the door open as she pushed the cart through and Cate maneuvered it to the back. Spencer took that time to look around the shop again, deciding which armchair to sit in. He spotted an old green one that was in front of a chess table. He decided he could pass the time waiting for Cate by playing himself. Cate came out of the back, and was assisting Marta clean the display shelf for the bakery items. 

“So I see Mr. Sweater vest is back.” Marta whispered to Cate without looking up. Cate let her gaze wander to him upon hearing his name. He was sitting in one of the armchairs, one hand holding his chin while the other was hovering above the shop’s chess board, deciding which piece to move.

“Yeah.” Cate smiled, not knowing what to say. Cate looked over to see Marta giving her a knowing look. “What?” Cate breathed out. “Can’t two single adults be friends?” Marta mimed zipping her lips and the girls continued cleaning. 

Once that was done and Marta said goodbye to Cate and made her way upstairs, Cate finally got to take the smarchair across from Spencers. Cate looked at the chess board, watching which pieces Spencer moved. Spencer was taking out of his trance of the game, and looked up at her.

“Do you play?” He asked. 

“A bit. I’m not good though.” Cate chuckled at how bad she was at chess. Spencer started to rearrange the pieces on the board. Cate went to help and they both reached for the same pawn. Their hands brushed together. They both flinched, but did not move their hands too far. Spencer took the initiative and moved the last piece. 

The pair barely spoke during their game. Spencer tried to make small talk, but Cate could barely focus on the rules of the pieces and talk at the same time, not to mention being sat across from an attractive man all the while. The game didn’t last too long. Spencer was always thinking three moves ahead and had Cate’s moves predicted to a tee. She fell for obvious traps and he could’ve checked her within the first five moves of the game, but wanted to play a little longer with her.

“I know what you’re doing.” Cate laughed as she purposefully lost one of her pawns. “Don’t let me win just because I’m a girl.” Spencer laughed.

“Trust me, I’m not letting you win.” Spencer moved one of his pieces. “Prolonging the game? Yes. Letting you win? Never.” He watched Cate’s face as her eyes darted around the chess board. He watched her move her rook. He picked up his bishop and took out her king.

“Alright, you got me.” Cate raised her hands up. She looked out the window, it was already dark out. “I still have to walk home.” Cate tried to excuse herself. Spencer stood up at the same time she did.

“Let me walk you home?” He saw her think to herself, “I’m a federal agent so I’m armed and trained to protect.” He saw her face change. He successfully persuaded her. 

“Okay, let me grab my things.” Cate went to the back, grabbing her bag and her earnings for the day. Spencer led the way out of the door, and stood watch as Cate locked up the outer door to the shop. 

They trailed down the sidewalk side by side. The usual crowds of the city had died down and the lamp posts lit up their way. It was a nice silence, comfortable, but Cate was the first to break it.

“So you’re not one for texting, huh?” Cate bit her lip. 

“No,” Spencer smiled. “I’m not one for texting. It’s easy to misread, or misinterpret messages and tones.” His walk led him closer to Cate’s side. 

“Have you ever tried the talk-to text?” Cate wondered. “Or the voice message feature?” Spencer shook his head.

“It’s not really the texting itself, I just prefer calling.” Cate pulled out her phone.

“Watch this, it’s kind of like a walkie talkie.” She pushed a little blue button over the keyboard and brought the phone closer to her face. “Hi.” She said to the phone. Spencer’s chimed. He opened it and pulled up their text messages, where a little blue text showed up, but instead of letters, it was an audio recording. He pressed it and out of his phone speaker was Cate’s voice message. 

Cate showed him again the buttons to press to send an audio message. She didn’t realize someone so young could be so technologically inept. The two were huddled over her phone, Spencer was observing carefully, so his memory could help him remember how to do the voice message. Their feet inched them closer and closer together until their hands brushed for the second time that night. Just as the walk to the shop had been quick, the walk to Cate’s apartment went by fast. 

Spencer walked her into the building, and up the stairs, all the way to her door. Cate leaned against it, searching her bag for her keys. Spencer stood next to the wall. He could hear a cat’s meow coming from inside her apartment. 

“Thanks for walking me home, it was really sweet.” Cate smiled up at the tall agent. 

“Oh, no problem.” Spencer said. “I’m glad you got home safe.” Cate couldn’t wipe her smile off her face, and neither could Spencer. Keys in hand, Cate opened her door. To Shrimp’s surprise, there was a new person outside of the door, and he ran and hid deep inside Cate’s apartment. 

“I’ll see you around?” Cate sounded hopeful.

“Of course. The Empty Mug is the best coffee we’ve had at the bureau.” Spencer played with the watch on his wrist. He’s missed the bus back to his apartment. He watched as Cate entered her apartment, softly shutting the door behind her. 

Cate rested her back against the door, feeling like she could finally breathe again. Her mind was spinning, thinking of everything that had happened that night. Shrimp hadn’t heard anyone else enter the apartment, so he came out of his hiding to rub against Cate’s legs. She bent to pet him. He mewed, signaling his bowl was empty. Just as Cate had reached the kitchen and filled Shrimp's bowl, her phone chimed. A new voice message from Spencer. She smiled and pressed play to listen to it. 

“Uh hi Cate, it’s Spencer. I just wanted to say goodnight. So uh, goodnight” Cate held the phone to her chest, smiling. 

Goodnight :) 

She typed back.

[calm-and-wine]

(I’ll give you) the best years

part II (masterlist)

Hello hello, sorry it took a while, but here is part 2 and part 3 is already in the works (so is part 4 🙈). I’d love to hear your thoughts, ideas, what you’ll like to see in the future and whatever else is on your minds!

Once again huge thank you to Anna @silverrank​​ for making sure my writing actually makes sense and isn’t complete gibberish. And a big thank you to @booksncoffee​​ for this beautiful banner.

Enjoy!

PART II

September 2023

There was no other word to describe the first days of being married but bliss. Absolute pure bliss. And it wasn’t even because of the stunning scenery of Maui, their luxury little beach house and beautiful turquoise water of the ocean. It was the bliss of being able to spend every minute with the person you were madly in love with, with no worries occupying your mind, nowhere to go and nothing to do, but enjoy each other and celebrate the official new chapter of your lives. In a way, the wedding didn’t change all that much for Lucy and Niall; they already lived together and they had been sure of their relationship being the one for a while now. But somehow it did change their mindsets a bit. They always thought about their future together, but now it was a given, there were no questions, no hesitation when making plans or talking about growing old.

A part of Lucy had used to think of marriage as a piece of paper, and in some cases it probably was like that, but right now she saw it as a bigger union. Like she and Niall were a proper team now. They were a family, after all.

Lucy was never a person who could do nothing. She was used to some kind of practice usually two times a day, meeting with people, doing meal prep, analysing her games and thinking about strategy or possible improvements. However, she was quite surprised to find herself truly enjoying the honeymoon, even though as of now it consisted of spending most of their time in bed (or other places in the house), reading books on the patio, swimming or playing board games in between. There were worse things to preoccupy her time with than enjoying the body of Niall Horan and letting him adore hers.

“I have no idea how I’ll be able to play in a few days.” Lucy sighed between licks of her ice lolly. A lot of the places the tennis tour took place are quite hot, so the weather shouldn’t bother her too much, but she was never actually a big fan of heat. The ten days in Maui were just the start of their honeymoon, which had to be split in two, because she qualified for the WTA finals, where only eight best players of that year had the opportunity to compete. It was the second year she was lucky enough to be a part of that event and she was actually ready to withdraw, but Niall didn’t want her to (truth be told, she did have a chance of ending the year as number one player). So they were coming back to London for a week of training, which she’ll definitely need after not caring about her food or working out (although that might be debatable, as they did work up quite a sweat most of the times), then playing a tournament in Luxembourg to get back into the swing of things before going to China to prepare and compete in the finals. After that however, they would embark on the second part of their marriage celebrations, travelling to Italy and planning a road trip through Spain, Portugal and maybe some other European cities. Also, Niall was joining her on all of her travels in between, so she’d be working, but they’d still be together.

“Is this work talk I’m hearing during our honeymoon?” he asked tilting his head to look at her through the sunglasses perched on his nose. There was a laughing undertone in his voice, because they jokingly made a bet while on the plane who would be the first to mention work. But they always had this understanding about each other’s job, because it was extraordinary and it wasn’t just work, it was passion and a lifestyle. Even though their jobs were very different, they bonded over that from the start.

Lucy reached out and swatted his arm. She was so sure he’ll be the one losing a bet, seeing how excited he always was to get back to writing after touring, that she forgot to watch herself. And Lucy really didn’t like losing.

“Can’t wait for tonight.” Niall smirked, putting his hands behind his head and stretching his body on the lounger. At least the forfeit wasn’t that bad, but it did make Lucy blush.

“Weren’t we supposed to finally go out for dinner tonight?” she asked. They only left their little bubble once, for a little boat trip.

Niall hummed in thought. “We do have a reservation. Will you be okay with settling the bet tomorrow, then?”

Lucy met his eyes and licked her ice lolly quite suggestively, which made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth, before she spoke. “Yeah, I guess that could be arranged.”

Niall held her gaze for a minute before throwing his head back with a groan. His wife was the devil, he was sure about that. She just laughed and finished eating before getting up. She stopped by his lounger, bending down, giving her husband quite a view of her chest and planting a sweet kiss on his lips, her tongue tasting fruity from her lolly. “I’m gonna shower and start getting ready, have to actually dress up for a change”.

~~~~

“There’s actually something I need your opinion on.” Lucy said when there was a slight lull in their conversation after they started eating. They were sitting on the balcony of the restaurant, the vast ocean spread below them and the setting sun creating a beautiful hue. Niall was chewing on his food, so he gestured for her to go on. “Well, I’ve been considering keeping playing under my maiden name. And I want to know if you’d be okay with that.”

A little frown took over his face, but he spoke as soon as he could, shrugging a little. “Yeah, of course.”

“Really?” she asked surprised, not because he was fine with it, but because it seemed like he just shrugged it off, while she’d been turning it over in her head for weeks. “Just like that?”

Niall put down his cutlery and looked at the woman in front of him with a small smile. “Why, were you scared to talk to me about this?”

Lucy shook her head forcefully. “No, I’m never scared to tell you things. But sometimes I am anxious, because I don’t want to hurt you. And I just remember how big your smile was when I said I wanted to take your name.”

He sighed and reached for her hand that was resting on the table, intertwining their fingers. “You know I love the fact that you wanted to share a name with me, not even hyphenate it. That made me feel really proud and worthy. But it’s your career and you have so many achievements under your name already, so I understand why you’d want to continue building that. And.. well.. I kinda wanted to suggest it, but I also didn’t want you to think I’m against you using my name or something. It’s your decision and you have my full support either way,” he chuckled before adding, “but what else is new?”

She looked at him with gratitude, constantly wondering what exactly had she done to deserve such an amazing, supporting man loving her as much as Niall did. “Thank you, baby.”

“No need to thank me, silly. I was so excited that you wanted to take my name, but I would never force it on you, like, I would understand if you wanted to stay with yours, not just for tennis.” In a way it meant more to him that she was only thinking about it now, having already changed her name to his, just that knowledge that she simply wanted to do it, not even considering what it meant for her career or her future legacy.

“I appreciate that.” Some part of her actually wanted to have his name everywhere, be his wife in all aspects of her identity. However, the more rational part of her knew it was best for her, career wise. She hadn’t figured it all out yet, didn’t know what it meant for her future business moves, after she was done playing. But she knew one thing - that they’d cross that bridge together when the time came. “But I always wanted to have the same one with my husband. I did consider hyphenating it, but it’s just not for me. If we’re gonna do it, let’s do it right, yeah?”

“Go big or go home, love,” said Niall, his glass clinking against hers in toast.

She took a sip before looking at him with a devilish glint in her eyes. “Now, what do you say, should we skip dessert and settle that bet tonight instead?”

The words made him almost choke on his beer. “You’re something else, Lulu Horan.”

November 2023

Coming back to training was never as brutal as this. It wasn’t just Lucy’s lack of her usual regime while in Maui, it was lying on the beach next to her husband one day and sweating her ass off in the gym in London two days later. Coming back to reality was hard and part of her was a bit mad they decided to divide their honeymoon. She didn’t want to get out of their lovely bubble.

Lucy thought that during her training week in the city, Niall would use the opportunity to go to the studio and start writing again, usually after the tour he was itching to make new music. But to her surprise, none of that happened. He met with some mates, came along to a few of her trainings or waited at home with dinner ready. If he was going out, it seemed like he made sure to be back by the time she got home. It was nice; Lucy wasn’t going to complain about that, but it did make her worry a bit, because it was out of character.

She wasn’t about to blow it out of proportion, but she did ask him about it.

“Aren’t you excited to get back to the studio? I thought you’d jump at the opportunity this week,” she mentioned one night, when they were in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner.

“Um.. not really, no.” Niall shook his head while rinsing out dishes and handing them to Lucy to load them into the dishwasher.

“Is there a reason why?” she asked, looking at him with furrowed brows and pausing her actions for a second to gauge his reaction.

“Well, I mean…” He didn’t seem bothered by the questions, just a little confused, like he was trying to make sense of his own thoughts before sharing them. “I have ideas, but I’m not sure if I want to jump back in. I’m quite enjoying my honeymoon off time right now.”

He shrugged his shoulders and finally lifted his head to her face. She was looking at him, trying to get a read on his feelings, like she was searching for a sign that everything really was okay.

“Is that alright with you?” Niall asked with the slightest hesitation.

“Of course,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile. “Whatever makes you happy, baby.”

And that was the end of it. Niall flew to Luxembourg with her, coming along to most of her training on court and sometimes working on his own body alongside her in the gym, watching tv or reading books in the hotel rooms and cheering her on during her matches. They also came to China together and Lucy was more than happy to have her husband there, it was a really nice tournament, a special event, but it was also stressful, especially with the pressure to perform as well as possible and fight for the year-end number one spot. There were no easy matches and Niall’s presence and humour were perfect relaxers.

“Are we going out for dinner tonight?” asked Niall when she joined him in their hotel room after taking a cooling bath to recover her tired muscles. Lucy won her second game of the tournament, pretty much bagging herself a spot in the semi-finals, so a little celebratory dinner was more than deserved. (Even though they’d been going out to dinner every night since they got to Shenzhen).

“Yeah, I think so. Jordan was talking about this restaurant that’s supposed to be a mind blowing experience.” Lucy said, referencing her fitness trainer. She was busy unpacking her bag from the match, which made her miss Niall’s expression falling, his brows drawing together in a frown.

“Oh. I didn’t realise they were all going with us. Again.” Niall’s unamused tone made her look up instantly.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. Niall was the most friendly person she knew, he never had a problem with being around people, and he got along pretty well with her team. It wasn’t unusual, when playing tournaments, especially the big ones; they had been going out to dinner together as a little break from work, Niall had never complained about it during his visits, always more than happy to tag along, even joking that it made him feel like part of the winning team.

“Well, it is our honeymoon still, kinda.” His eyes were challenging, not leaving hers for even a second, but his next words were gentler, indicating he wasn’t looking for a fight, just wanted her to see his point. “We’ve been surrounded by your coach, trainer, physio, psychologist and manager for the past two weeks. I know you’re basically working right now and it’s your team, I do like them as well, but I’d like to have dinner with just my wife sometimes. Is it that wrong?”

She shook her head, her heart melting right away, seeing his reasons and thinking about any possible signs she might have missed, making a mental note to consider it in the future. “I’m sorry, you know I suck at saying no to people. Especially the ones I like.”

“And it’s your routine, it’s what you do, I know, but I’d like to still celebrate us a bit, you know?” His voice was still a little desperate, but he didn’t seem as frustrated anymore. 

“I’d like that too. Thank you for bringing that to my attention, baby. I’m gonna text everyone, let them know we’re doing our own thing tonight.”

She went to grab her charging phone right away. As she was about to walk back to her bag after sending a message, Niall grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to stand between his legs, while he sat on the  bed, his hands resting at the bottom of her waist.

He looked up at her and when she leaned down for a kiss, he went for her neck instead, then whispering in her ear, “You’re gonna let me blow your mind tonight, then? Don’t need any fancy restaurant to do that, hm?”

~~~~

Italy was the perfect place to drown your sorrows. That’s what Niall said when they were leaving China, even after Lucy assured him there weren’t really any sorrows to be buried. Sure, she didn’t finish the year at the top of the ranking, losing in the semi finals, but she did hold the number two spot and that was more than enough. Plus she was more than happy to be going back on their honeymoon and enjoying the world with no plan or pressure, just the two of them, before starting her pre-season training in a few weeks.

They flew down to Rome. Both of them had been in the city numerous times before, Niall for tours and Lucy for a tournament, but now they finally had the time to actually explore, see all the main attractions, as well as some more hidden gems. Then they took the train to Florence, which was the city Lucy was most excited about, having seen all the beautiful pictures and talking to some friends who had visited in the past.

Even though they both had seen a lot of places because of their respective jobs, there was something entirely special in travelling like that, together, with no other intent but exploring and enjoying the time and place. Both of them sometimes found it hard to disconnect, let go of stress and worry, not think about what needs to be done soon, what work awaits them. But walking around Florence, basking in the sun which was a nice surprise as it was the beginning of November, holding hands and admiring the beautiful city, they were both simply calm and happy, not a worry in sight.

“Shit, Niall, I’m dripping.” Lucy interrupted the calm with an exclamation, stopping in her tracks.

“Jesus, Lulu, we just left the church not even ten minutes ago, hold your horses, woman.” Niall had the smuggiest grin on his face and didn’t even move to hand her a tissue, her melted ice cream dripping down her hand.

She looked at him very bemused while he gave her an almost childlike grin, before finally digging through his backpack to help her.

“You are so not funny,” Lucy said, taking a tissue from him, a grumpy expression on her face.

“Sorry, I’m pretty sure there is a ‘no returns’ policy on husbands, so you’re stuck with me forever now.” He laughed putting his arm around her waist and squeezing her tightly against his side, before planting a kiss on her cheek.

Lucy kept a snarl on her face for a few seconds more, before letting a smile overcome her features and searching for his lips, letting him know she actually appreciated his ability to joke at everything, his easygoing attitude, which was truly irritating at times when they started dating, but she grew to not only love it, but admire it a bit.

~~

In Milan they decided to rent a car and travel through France to Spain and then Portugal, where they would end their trip. The road tripping took Lucy back in time in a way, because she remembered many travels with her parents to different tennis tournaments, when she was a kid. However, travelling with Niall was immensely better. She barely ever drove, so he did most of it, only switching for an hour or so, when he was really tired, even though they didn’t pull super long distances, making pit stops in smaller places for a night or two. She really enjoyed watching Niall drive though, there was something so sexy about his confidence, one hand on the wheel, while the other usually rested on her thigh or was intertwined with hers, his head bobbing along to the music and singing to most songs, a carefree smile constant on his lips. There was no better word to describe her feelings than content. Just fully content.

“We should travel like this more often,” she said, when he looked at her with an arched brow, after she had been quiet for a while.

His face lit up and he raised their joined hands to press a soft kiss to hers.

“You enjoying yourself, then?”

She hummed happily. “Mmm, very much. First class flights and fancy hotels are always nice, but this is just special, I don’t know, like we’re actually seeing the world together. Maybe it’s because we fly around so much, I’m quite used to it. While I haven’t been on a road trip since I was around fifteen, probably.”

“Yeah, it’s nicely different. And it feels more chilled, I think. Like, if we want to stop, we stop. If we want to see something, we go there. There’s no rush. I’m really liking it too.” He agreed, taking his eyes off the road for a second to offer her a big smile.

“Let’s do this at least once a year,” she proposed. “Maybe not for two weeks, or whatever, it can be a smaller trip, but I’d quite like to make it our thing.”

“Deal,” he said, letting go of her hand just to wrap his pinky around hers. “Although I reckon you’re gonna regret those words once we have kids.”

Somewhere along their relationship, having kids stopped being an ‘if’ and became a ‘when’. They didn’t even talk about it, not really, but it was a natural progression none of them minded. Whenever Lucy heard it, it made her smile at her partner. It was almost like they subconsciously knew they both wanted it, their souls reading each other and wanting the same thing.

~~

After travelling through France and most of Spain, they decided to rent a small house near the coast and rest for a few days. They were enjoying a glass of wine (well, beer for Niall) after dinner on the patio while playing cards. Both of them were snuggled in cozy sweaters (Lucy was wearing her favourite of Niall’s), but the air was so nice, although chilly, they didn’t want to go inside.

“Why don’t we have, like, a holiday house somewhere?” Niall asked after losing yet another game. Lucy was always better at games that required any type of strategic thinking, yet he was still grumpy after losing too many times.

She shrugged while picking up the cards to shuffle them for another round. “I actually don’t know. Properties are usually a good investment. We should look around.” She shrugged while picking up the cards to shuffle them for another round.

“We could spend a month in Spain or wherever,” he suggested looking around, as if trying to picture their future there.

“That sounds nice. But between that and our yearly road trips, I doubt we’d actually have enough time to enjoy it all.”

“Mmm, that’s true,” he hummed, thinking about it all. “But I’d really like a house in Ireland.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She let out a small laugh. Niall was nothing if not patriotic, always speaking about his country with a special spark in his eyes.

“Would you not?” He sounded almost offended, like it was an attack on his person. “I need to show you more of the country, actually. We should take some road trips there.”

“Well, it depends,” she said picking up her wine glass and taking a sip. “I think it’d be nice as a cottage, a get away house, but I don’t think I’d want to live there, not yet at least, maybe once we’re old or something.”

He was silent for a minute, sorting through his own thoughts and feelings. “Well, I always thought I’d move back one day. But you’re right, it wouldn’t be practical to live there now, not with our jobs and plans. You’re not crossing it out though, right? We’ll think about it in a few years?”

“Would you ask for a divorce if I said no?” she teased.

“Oh yeah, it’s a deal breaker for me.” Niall joined with the same joking manner, although his tone and face was serious. “We should have talked about it before, huh?”

“As long as we’d both be able to do the job we’d want to do while living there, I’m pretty open to it,” she said seriously. They’d both learned a long time ago that home was wherever they were together, the actual place didn’t matter that much.

He smiled brightly, leaning over the table between them to give her a happy kiss. “What about now, though? Would it be okay if we looked around? Got a little cottage in the middle of nowhere or something?”

She held to his neck to give him one more kiss before letting go and settling back in her seat. They only had this much space between them, so Niall would look into her cards, but maybe it was time to end the game. “Yeah, of course. That’d be nice, actually, our little escape.”

With both of their lifestyles being so hectic, they probably wouldn’t have too much time to actually spend there, but Ireland was close enough for a quick weekend getaway trip. She liked that perspective. Or both of them flying down from wherever they were and meeting there for a couple of days together, away from the noisy world. Just them and their little bubble. It sounded like heaven. This whole honeymoon made both of them wonder how were they supposed to go back on their separate travels soon, after spending so much time by each other’s side.

They had those bittersweet moments, when they were still together, but already missing the other person, even before they were gone. They’d catch the other looking a bit distant, a sad glint in their eyes and just know, making sure to squeeze the other person’s hand or give a specially tight hug or a reassuring kiss.

Even though none of them said anything, they both wondered how long will their life look like that, constantly apart, missing each other and living from one visit to the other. But in the end, there was never any doubt in their minds whether it was worth it. And that’s all that truly mattered.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 70

~*~Emma~*~

Sebastian was right. I did like hearing him moan too much. Such a deep, breathy, needy sound. I’m not sure he realized he was making the same sounds as I played guitar. Not as frequent, but still. Seemed only right I should finish what I started. Plus, he’d had a rough day.

I’d gone back to the proposal thing partly to let him off the hook, but more because I didn’t want that to happen. On our second anniversary, I was terrified Jimmy was going to ask me to marry him. My girlfriends had convinced me it was coming. Two years is the time, they said. Thank fuck they were wrong. I didn’t have a problem talking about it and Sebastian had seemed to handle it fine, but I knew the possibility of freaking out was there. Still was. A blow job and a lazy fuck would get his mind in a different place.

After our romp in the guest room, Sebastian pulled me into my bedroom and pushed me on the bed. His smile was lethal as he came for me, kissing from side to side up my body, before laying his very naked body on mine and taking over my mouth. A very long and thorough kiss later he kissed my nose, “Let’s start over at the beginning.”

Over at the beginning meant an extended period of making out, foreplay, him going down on me until I came (twice), and then some very un-lazy intercourse. All followed by collapsing in a sweaty heap. Good times.

Sebastian scooted closer and pushed me to my side where he could wrap around me. A couple of well-placed kisses on the back of my neck had me smiling and making satisfied sounds. I held onto the arms around me and turned my head enough to see him. “I love you.”

“I know you do.” He kissed me as softly as we were speaking. “I love you.”

I smiled, “I know you do.”

“What do you want to do Monday? We should do something.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about. I put my hand on his face and squirmed to turn where we were facing. “We should go on a date. A first date.” A first date to commemorate a month since our first date.

He smiled, “A movie.”

“Something scary so I can hide my face against your chest.” We both laughed, “Gelato after, that place we passed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Pizza before.”

“Sounds perfect.” We kissed and stayed close, breathing and being quiet.

Sebastian took a deep breath and fought a yawn, “Sorry.”

“Please.” We rearranged again and I laid my head on his shoulder, his fingers trailing along my side. “If you want to go for a run or anything before I get up there’s an extra set of keys in the entry table.” This was completely prepping for if our talk resulted in an overnight panic attack. “Wake me up if you want.”

His fingers never stopped moving, “What’s your alarm code?”

“Same as my car code.” I tilted my face up to see him. His blue eyes were drowning me. The soft look, the slight smile. I reached to play in his beard. His smile grew and mine matched it, “Whatever you need, Bastian.”

He shook his head slightly, “Just you.”

I woke up before Sebastian. I propped my head on my hand to watch him sleep. He was on his back with one arm stretched to the side and one on his stomach. The sheet covered midway up his chest. He'd gotten a little sun at his mom's yesterday on his chest and shoulders. I was excited about our beach vacation. Lay on the beach, lay by the pool, play in the pool, play in the ocean, maybe dinner on a yacht at sunset.His face showed no sign of tension and worry. I think what I’m seeing is peaceful relaxation. His cheeks were relaxed, his lips barely parted, and his eyes were twitching behind his eyelids. He was in REM sleep. Dreaming. Lying like this he looked beautiful. I wanted to run my fingers over the indentation of muscles. I wanted to put my lips to his eyelashes to feel their twitch against my lips. Run my fingertips over his shaven cheek, stroke through his beard, run a finger over his pink lips. And when he started to wake I wanted to kiss him. I wanted his first memory of the day, even before he opened his eyes, to be me kissing him.

I didn’t touch. Just watched. The eye movements increased and his face started twitching. Definitely dreaming. A few minutes later I felt like the dream wasn't a pleasant one. I carefully laid my palm on the smooth part of his cheek, barely touching skin, letting my fingertips touch the twitches. As they settled, I applied more pressure, his beard against my palm, using my thumb to caress bare skin on the line of his beard, the contrast felt good against my thumb. Whatever the dream, my touch had calmed it. Sebastian's eyes fluttered enough for me to see the blue. I moved where he could see my eyes too.

His lids lifted for a second and he licked his lips. I crept closer and pressed my awake lips to his sleeping ones. "Good morning, my love."

"Morning." Sebastian closed his eyes again and smiled. "Do that again."

I moved over him, pausing long enough for the arm on his stomach to move around me, before pressing my naked chest to his naked chest. I kissed to the right of his lips, "Good," kiss to the left, "morning," and a solid kiss to his lips, "my love."

I felt the slightest touch of his tongue, "Love waking up with you."

His fingers trailing down my spine made me shiver, "It is nice." My accent came out strong.

Sebastian laughed, "My southern belle." He put his hand on my face. "I love when it sneaks out."

"Just ask and I can conjure up a lovely accent for a weekend or so. If that would make you happy." I laid it on thick.

Sebastian squirmed happily, "Very dangerous."

"Why?" Holding on to the accent.

He shrugged, "I love southern accents. All that time shooting in Atlanta and Savannah was pleasantly painful."

"Did you get in trouble?"

"I tried. Wasn't greatly successful."

“I imagine my southern sisters were uncertain what to do with you. You're very pretty. They'd play with you, but how’s your game?"

He chuckled, "Hit or miss."

"We'll have to go south and see if you can pick me up."

"I like either of those ideas." He kissed me long, "We need to make a list."

"We can do it on the train."

I kissed him again, "Do you want breakfast before we get the train?" We didn't have a solid plan.

Sebastian shook his head, "Not super hungry right now. Just get some coffee and yogurt. You hungry?"

"Not really. Angie and I are going shopping then grabbing lunch." Sebastian had said he needed to work and I hadn't had a day with my best friend in a long time. "I'm guessing doors are at seven. It's at Bowery Ballroom, did I say that?"

"Nope. I was just going to follow you. We can walk."

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head slowly, "Not with the heels I'm wearing tonight."

Sebastian pursed his lips, "That sounds fun."

We showered and I left my hair in a towel until we were ready to go. I was stressing myself with what to pack until I remembered today was shopping. My plan was the black dress I didn't wear to dinner last time, but that could change today. Now, I was really excited.

Thankfully early morning Saturday on the metro north train wasn't busy. My guitar wasn't rush hour friendly. We tucked ourselves at the end with our backs to the rest of the car. Sebastian had easily put our stuff in the overhead bin and I found his lack of struggle sexy as hell. When he sat down, I wrapped around his bicep, "You are so hot."

He cocked his head, looking at me with a smirk, "What did I do? Mostly so I can do it again."

I kissed him chastely, "You put our bags up like they weighed nothing. The way your shirt crept up to show off your stomach. Mmmm."

"Keep being so easily impressed."

"You got it, baby." Thinking of luggage had a question pop up. "Does your building have parking?"

"Yes. My apartment has a spot. Can't remember where." He looked over, "We could have driven."

"Windows open, music turned up, singing loud."

"I'll have to find where it is. Mini road trip would be fun."

"Lots of crazy conversations on a road trip."

"And you peeing on the side of the road."

I glared at him, "You can't forget that for me?"

He shrugged, "Sounds like too much fun. We should take off and drive somewhere. Maine in the fall. Montreal, Toronto. Go to LA and drive up to Seattle."

I pulled out my phone, "We need to make that list" I went into my notes program, opened a new notebook titled “Sebastian”, and started a to do list.

Sebastian looked over my shoulder, "First was blindfolding and tying me to the bed. You want a massage with a happy ending. There were plans to wake each other up with various kinds of sex. A weekend with a very southern accent. Me trying to pick you up. Now a road trip. Beach vacation. We should call Will and Alissa, get together a plan while you’re home with me."

“Sounds good."

Sebastian took my hand to his mouth “Will you tell me what happened Tuesday?"

I had to think back to Tuesday. It seemed a very long time ago. A lot had happened since them. All good.

I smiled and took a deep breath, "Sure.” Most of what mom and I had talked about Sebastian already knew. I just filled in mom's side of the confrontation. "Her "but Amy" when I said she'd hurt me..." I trailed off and waved a hand in front of us. I didn’t know what to say.

Sebastian caught my hand, "That had to have hurt." His face showed a mix of sad and angry.

"Yes." I nodded, "More angry when she said it didn't take anything from me to watch what I say in front of Amy. She missed the whole point, and for real, it does take away from me to pretend I'm not happy. Over time what hell would that do to my self-esteem? If you act like your unimportant you start believing it. My father thinking I'd ever come back and live like that."

He snorted, "Bad idea."

"Very. I told her it wouldn't affect me because I wouldn't let it. Mom thought she'd won and we moved on. As soon as I was off the plane, I called Trevor." I smiled, "He was proud of me. I needed the validation that I wasn't overreacting or being a brat. He reminded me this wasn't really new for them and asked what had changed with me." I leaned closes to kiss him. "Wasn't a hard question. It's you."

"Me?" His smirk said he was enjoying my answer.

"Pretending I'm not happy and in love is my line. I'm not willing to hold that in." I kissed him again. "It's not right they ask me to. They should be happy that I have someone who makes me happy."

Sebastian's expression changed again. This time his eyes brightened and his features softened, "You make me happy too." The back of his fingers caressed my cheek. "Very happy."

If I wasn't already in love with him the way he was looking at me now would do it.

"What do you mean she thought she'd won?"

"The way she smiled she thought I was agreeing with what they wanted me to do. I’d muzzle myself forever because they were afraid for Amy. I’m afraid for Amy too, and I’m not a bitch, but I matter too."

“Refusing to sacrifice yourself for someone who’s not in trouble doesn’t make you a bitch.” He shrugged and I could tell he was weighing his words. “Your mom asking you to does kinda make her one. Sorry.”

I shook my head, “Nothing to be sorry about.”

He smiled, "What does it mean that you won’t let it affect you?"

He's a smart man. I shrugged, "I'm not completely sure. Right now I go back to Alpharetta a couple of times a year. I used to spend two weeks near the end of summer, but I dreaded it, so I started going first to get it over with. Now it’s less than a week. Maybe spring break. As soon as school lets out for winter break I head down and leave for Hawaii Christmas day. I don't think I’m doing that anymore."

He turned his head to the side and looked worried, "What are you going to do?"

“I’ve never not woken up in my parent’s house Christmas morning. Jimmy’s family celebrated Christmas eve so that was never a conflict. I want to spend my holiday with people who want to be with me. Really be with me and let me be happy. I’ll probably go to Hawaii early. I haven’t given it a lot of thought outside of the stink it’s going to create.” I laughed a little.

“I imagine it will.” He laughed then went serious, “You are welcome wherever I am.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

“Are you going to Hawaii with me?”

His smile was back, “Just book my flight with yours.”

“What do you do for Christmas?”

“Depends. I’m not a big Christmas person. Sometimes with mom, sometimes with friends. It’s a little early for making plans.”

“A little.” We’d known each other a month and it wasn’t even July. There’d been no reason to talk about this.

Sebastian let go of my hand, put his arm around me, and kissed my head. “I sense you are a big Christmas person.”

“I love Christmas. I love decorations, presents, baking cookies, snow. Not until after Thanksgiving though. I get very excited.” Putting up the tree and setting out my obscene number of snowmen was fun.

“I think we’ll do whatever you want this Christmas. It matters more to you. And if you decide to go to your parent’s house, I’ll follow you there too. Make sure they see exactly how happy you are.”

“You’re the sweetest.” I held my thumb and forefinger an inch apart, “And a little bit petty.”

“More than a little.”

[matrixaffiliate]

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Next chapter goes up on August 8th! =)

Chapter 2

Ted walked into the office the next morning and went right to the sign that Vic had made the day before. He had scoured the internet to find out what these old machines sounded like and did his best to imitate the noises he'd heard on different obscure YouTube videos as he mimicked stamping his time card. Vic laughed at her desk while he did so.

"Good morning," He grinned at her as he sat in his desk chair. "Did you clock in?"

"Oh yes," Vic nodded seriously, "I want to make sure I keep this job. It's helping to support my family until they find me a good husband."

Ted pushed down the question of whether or not Sean was in the running for her husband and the question of if Sean was worried about helping her keep her job.

"What a noble thing to do, so selfless of you." He grinned when she laughed. He really liked the sound of her laugh.

"So how was running around with Uncle Ron all day yesterday?"

Ted smirked, "Brutal, the hazing here is intense. I don't know how you put up with it."

Vic shook her head, "How else will we know if you're up to working here?"

Ted laughed, "See this is how I know that working here is the right move. I like a group that doesn't mess around, no-nonsense, nose to the grindstone, that's how I like it."

Vic laughed, "I can tell. I don't think there's a bone in your body that knows how to joke around."

"Not a one," Ted shrugged, "some people think it's a waste, but I think they're just jealous."

Vic laughed before her phone rang and she composed herself to answer it.

Ted took advantage of the moment to get his laptop turned on and start unloading the few things he brought for his desk. He'd just started to look through the new potential clients that Ron had been wanting to reach out to when Vic's voice spoke up.

"A wolf figurine?" She picked up the wolf his mum had given him when he finished A-Levels.

Ted gave a nervous laugh, "Er, do you know my last name?"

She bit her lip, "No, does that make me a bad coworker?"

Ted shook his head but he couldn't keep from smiling. "You know if I answer that honestly, I'm only going to make you feel bad."

"Do you even know my last name?" Vic crossed her arms over her chest, still holding the wolf.

Ted smirked, "Why yes, Weasley, I do."

Vic blushed and then laughed, "Fine, I'm an awful person, now what's your last name?"

"You think I'll let you off the hook that easily, Weasley?" Ted grinned. "You underestimate me."

"Oh, come on, I admitted to being awful." She kicked his foot.

"And I admire your honesty." Ted held out his hand for his wolf figurine.

Vic smirked. "I think I'll hold on to this, at least until I guess your last name."

Teddy briefly considered fighting her for it, but he smiled when she rubbed her hand over it like it was a puppy she was petting.

"Sure, hold on to it."

She blinked and bit her lip before smiling, "Thanks, I'll give it back once I figure out your last name."

Ted shrugged and grabbed his phone to call the first company on Ron's list. "I won't hold my breath."

Vic went to argue with him, but Teddy held up his hand and responded to the receptionist that had answered his call.

Her playful glare put a smile on his face for the rest of the calls he had to make.

"Did you bring lunch?" Vic asked as she moved to the fridge.

Ted looked up at the clock and raised his eyebrows. Was it really already one o'clock?

"Er, yeah, I did," Ted pulled his backpack to him.

Vic moved to the card table as Ted sat at his desk and pulled out his sandwich.

"You're going to eat at your desk?"

Ted looked up at her, "Yep."

"Well, this will be an awkward lunch hour. I'm practically shouting at you from over here."

Ted smirked, "Yeah, really awkward."

Vic pulled her drink to her lips and Teddy felt his smirk morphing into a smile. She had something about her, something that kept pulling him in even when his brain kept telling him to back off. Honestly, he needed to stop, she was snogging a guy in the office when he wasn't there. But try as he might, Ted couldn't stop himself. Vic was pulling him in and he couldn't, or maybe he wouldn't stop her.

"Well, what shall we shout about?"

"Do you normally shout with the men in your life?"

"Only when they insist on sitting fifty feet away from me."

"Fifty feet? This office is barely twenty feet across." Ted laughed.

Vic ignored him, "No one likes a cleverclogs, Ted."

He laughed loudly at that one, "Fine, I don't normally care for shouting at the women in my life, but if you insist on eating all the way over there, I can make a special exception for you."

"You're ridiculous," Vic laughed and went to say more when her cell phone rang.

She looked torn as she looked at the screen before mouthing sorry to him and swiping to answer.

"Hi, Sean."

Ted turned to look out the window and tried to push away the annoyance he felt. It would make sense her boyfriend would call over her lunch hour. He tried to tune her out and focus on the cars driving past the office building, but the catch in her voice as she spoke again completely threw that idea out the window.

"Oh, are you sure you can't do that another night?"

Ted focused on chewing his food to keep from turning to look at her.

"No, I understand, just, we planned this out last month."

It was involuntary. Ted glanced her way and saw one of the most dejected looks he'd ever seen, including when Lily was two-years-old and didn't get a second scoop of ice cream.

"Alright, but I'll see you tonight?"

Ted looked back out the window and took a long drink from his water bottle.

"Oh, right, well, text me then."

It wasn't his business, but Ted couldn't help but feel like taking it to blows with Sean. How dare he treat this amazing woman like someone he could blow off?

"Right. Bye."

Ted finally allowed himself to turn his office chair back to face Vic and found her gripping her phone tightly between her hands.

"Everything alright?"

Vic took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah, just, just plans changing and I've always been a little frustrated when that happens."

"Must be something big to cancel plans that have been set out for a month."

Vic swallowed hard and took a bite of her sandwich. Ted took the hint and moved the conversation forward.

"Well, while you were rudely interrupting our shouting match, I thought we might start shouting about how insane it is that Ron couldn't find space for two more desks at the main office."

Vic grinned. "You're more observant than most. I have two theories on that one."

"Wait!" Ted held up his hand as he set down his sandwich. "We have to make sure that he hasn't bugged the office to spy on us."

He started inspecting the ceiling and the floors, Vic's laughter echoing in the small space. Ted opened the supply closet and the bathroom and the fridge and the microwave before deciding he'd played the part well enough and went back to his desk.

"Alright, I think the coast is clear. Now, what are your theories?"

Vic grinned, "Well, my first theory is that he's protective of me, and doesn't want me involved with all the politicking that happens at the main office. But my second theory is that he doesn't want this to keep being a part of Bread & Butter. I think he's prepping this so that it could become its own operation. And that transition goes much smoother if the people who work here haven't been involved with Bread & Butter at all. I mean, aside from meeting everyone at the main office, did you get contact information? Sure, we could find them over the company system, but we don't do anything that involves them at all. Uncle Ron even hires a different company to deliver for our department than the rest of the company."

Teddy felt his eyes go huge. "Vic you're brilliant!"

Vic blushed, "Well, that's just my speculation…"

"No!" Teddy shook his head, "You're a genius, really, and that's going to completely change the game!"

Ted snagged his notebook and pen and started jotting down notes.

"What are you on about?" Vic moved back to her desk chair and rolled it to his desk.

"Vic, my degree is in marketing, not sales, but your uncle hired me basically on the spot. He's got you running a website and coordinating deliveries. But he's completely cut us off from the rest of Bread & Butter. He told me that he wanted to see me pioneer this division. Vic, we're building a company! And I know how to market that! My job title says Salesman, but I'm sitting on the precipice of being the Chief Marketing Officer. If I can show Ron what I can do to increase my sales, if you and I can grow this into something big, Vic we could be the C-staff of this gig!"

Vic stared at him for a long moment before rolling back to her desk and grabbing a notepad and pen.

"So, what do we do?"

"Why did Ron hire you?" Ted pushed back in his chair.

Vic looked down, "Because I needed a job."

"No," Teddy shook his head, "I will put a thousand pounds down that he did not pity hire you. Did you go to university or any sort of training after A-levels?"

Vic shrugged, "I went to uni, but my degree is in communications, how does that help here?"

Ted looked out the window and thought about it, trying to connect the dots. What did Ron have in store for Vic? Then it hit him.

"You're pretty close with Ron?"

Vic smiled, "I'm his and Aunt Hermione's go-to sitter for Rose and Hugo. And growing up they were always my favorite to play with at family gatherings."

"You're Ron's pick for Chief Operating Officer," Ted scribbled down in his notebook again. "He knows he can trust you to handle anything he throws at you. Did you know anything about managing a website before this?"

Vic shrugged, "No, but it wasn't hard to learn. I watched a load of online courses and I've been able to keep it going pretty well after that."

Ted grinned, "We're building this company up Vic, and we didn't even have to do the hard part, we get to jump into the fun and make this happen!"

"Ted," Vic bit her lip, "I was just speculating. I have no idea if I'm right."

Ted shook his head. "But it doesn't matter if you're right or not. Don't you see Vic? Even if this isn't Ron's intention, we can make this his intention. We can make this big enough to be its own company."

Vic shook her head. "Ted, I don't know the first thing about running a company or even what a chief operating officer is."

Ted looked at the clock, it was nearly two and he had a phone meeting scheduled with a client. "What are you doing after work? We can plan this out, I can teach you what we're working towards, give you the vision of where we're heading."

Vic looked at her cell phone for a moment and licked her lips.

Ted guessed she was thinking about Sean. "This would just be work, Vic, we'll even stay here at the office."

"Right," she kept looking at her black phone screen. "Right, ok, I'm free tonight."

"Perfect," Ted tried to ignore the way his heart beat faster. "We'll order some dinner and then we can start mapping this out, make ourselves a plan."

She smiled and looked back at him, "Sounds great."

Ted would have sworn that all of their clients were talking in slow motion as he had his phone meetings throughout the rest of the day. But finally, five rolled around and Teddy felt like he'd won the lottery.

This wasn't a date; he reprimanded his stupid heart. This was a business planning meeting with dinner involved. This wasn't a date.

"What are you in the mood for?" Vic scrolled through the options on her computer.

"I'm not picky, my family has always been pretty adventurous when it comes to food."

"Oh, there's an Indian place the next street over, how does that sound?"

Ted grinned, "Sounds good, but I doubt they'll do as well as my Uncle James."

"Uncle Harry's dad?"

Ted nodded. "Hands down he could out cook the majority of the Indian restaurants in London."

"I'll have to try that sometime then. But what do you want from here?"

They placed their orders and when it came time to enter the payment, Ted pushed her chair so it rolled across the room and quickly typed in his card info and paid.

"I have cash, I can pay you my share." Vic shoved her chair at him.

"How are you going to get me to take your cash? You don't even know my last name." Ted sat back down in his chair and grinned.

"I could stick it in your shirt pocket." She grabbed her purse out of her desk and started counting out the correct number of bills.

"I'll throw it back at you. I'm not the sort of bloke to throw money at women, but when it's her own money I'll make a special exception." Ted put his hands behind his head and leant back in his chair and smirked.

"Here," she stood and slipped the small wad of bills into his shirt pocket.

Ted almost shivered at her touch, but just as soon as she pulled her hand away, he grabbed the money and threw it back at her.

"You're not paying me back."

Vic picked up the money from the floor. "Come on, aren't we supposed to be coworkers?"

"I don't use bills," Ted shrugged, "I'd probably just lose them. It's a waste of your money to pay me back."

"Really, Ted, you can't just go buying me dinner."

"Of course, I can, you don't know my last name, I can get away with almost anything right now," Ted smirked at her.

"You know, all I have to do is find you on the company roster and I'd know your last name."

"Do you know my first name?" Ted kicked his feet out in front of him.

"No, I'm just calling you Ted because it felt right."

Teddy ignored the way his heart beat harder at her wording.

"Ted is a shortened version of my name, and there happens to be more than one name that shortens to Ted." He smirked at her. "The company roster has my full proper name, Weasley."

Vic narrowed her eyes at him. "I could always call Aunt Ginny."

Ted shrugged, "You could, I don't think you will, but you could. She is my godmother, after all, she would definitely want to know why you want to know my full name."

Vic bit her lip. "If I knew your full name would you take the money?"

"Nope," Teddy grinned at the groan Vic let out.

"You are absolutely impossible!"

"Infuriating isn't it? You should meet the men who taught me how to do this."

"You mean there are men out there who teach you to be awful?" Vic kicked half-heartedly at his feet still stretched out near her chair.

"Oh yes, they taught me all of the awful things, like paying for dinner and holding doors open and being kind and saying please and thank you and asking for consent and all the other things that turn you into a right scoundrel."

Vic chuckled, "Sound like a group of tossers."

Ted smiled; the Marauders had their moments.

"They're the best men I know."

"I'd like to meet them someday."

Her voice had a softer quality to it and Ted felt his heart caving into the sound of it combined with the little smile that touched her lips.

"So, keep your money," Ted tried to bring the joking back as he cleared his throat. "Because those same men will kick my arse if you don't."

"That I might pay to see." Vic laughed and put her foot out to tap his.

"So cruel," Ted shook his head.

Then their dinner arrived and Ted was grateful for the interruption. He was quickly finding himself falling fast with Vic and he didn't want to stop himself. This woman was everything he'd ever looked for and he just felt in sync with her. It was easy, too easy. So easy that he was already having to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. She wasn't his. She had a boyfriend. He needed to back off. He needed to stop.

But he didn't. He justified it by telling himself that this opportunity to grow their division into its own operation was too good to pass up. And Vic deserved this. She deserved to see how far she could go. To see that Ron trusted her more than she probably understood. And if he could give her that, well, it would be worth holding himself back, mostly.

"Alright, I'm going to have to roll myself out of here." Vic moved what was left of her food to the fridge. "Let's get started and you can teach me all those things I need to know to help run a start-up."

Ted grinned and put the rest of his food in the fridge with hers.

"Good idea, the sooner we start the better, you don't want to be driving home in the dark." Ted teased.

Vic blushed, "Well, I go home to my parents' so I'd prefer it after dark. Then most everyone is asleep."

"Alright then, I'll make sure to go into great depth and detail to make sure you aren't leaving here until well after sunset. Then you can pretend you bought your childhood home and live alone with your cat."

Vic scoffed, "Do I look like a woman who would own a cat?"

Ted nodded, "Oh yes, you have the crazy cat lady vibe going for you."

Vic threw a napkin at him, "I hate you."

"How can you hate me? You've known me for less than 72 hours." Ted threw the napkin back at her.

"You just called me a crazy cat lady!"

"No, I said you had the vibe for it," Ted kicked her foot from under the card table. "I'm sure you'll not end up alone without anyone to fill the companionship void but a cat."

"You don't like cats?" Vic kicked his foot back.

"Cats are alright, but I'm not much of a pet person. I like Uncle Sirius' dog well enough, but pets seem like a lot of work for a lot of feedback that doesn't appeal to me. I don't find joy in sitting with a dog or a cat. And I don't really like watching anything you'd keep in an atrium."

"Do you want kids then? Or are they like pets?"

"Are you kidding me?" Ted laughed. "Having kids is completely different than having pets. Kids are little humans that you get to help grow and here's the best part, kids ultimately can handle their bowel movements without any help from me."

Vic's laughter came bursting out of her and Ted couldn't help but admire the way she looked so happy.

"But, yeah, I'm looking forward to being a dad." He rubbed the back of his neck to keep his hand from reaching across the table for her.

Vic's smile went just a touch sad and Ted frowned.

"Hey, you alright?"

She sighed, "Yeah, just wish more blokes were like you."

Ted's heart flipped in his chest.

"But that's neither here nor there," Vic pulled her notepad to her. "Let's get down to business."

Ted blinked, "Er, right."

Ted moved to retrieve his notebook and felt a small smile tug at his lips. Because Vic said she wished more guys were like him, and Ted hoped the underlying message was she wished Sean were like him. Or maybe that he was in Sean's place.

He was so screwed.

[crazycat-88]

Male Orc Sigmar x Male Reader (NSFW)

My first story set in West Oaks, a fictional town that features in a few of my stories. Connected to my Modern Monsters: In the City series.

This one features an orc, who’s Raum’s (from another story) brother, this story is set before, during and after Raum’s story. Its not necessary to read that one to follow this though. And a male tattoo artist reader.

I hope you enjoy it. Words: 3,611

When your grandmother passed and left you her house in her will, you weren’t planning on leaving the big city to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere. You were even reluctant to go and sort through your grandmother’s possessions and check the condition of the house before putting it up for sale. It was unavoidable however, so you had taken a couple of weeks of work and got on a train to West Oaks.

To say you were pleasantly surprised when you arrived there would have been an understatement. You had expected a pokey little town with a few shops and people with old fashioned views. Instead you found a beautiful landscape, with a mountain towards the North and the sea to the West and nothing but trees to the East and South. The streets in the town were bustling with the same variety of creatures as was in the city and a huge selection of shops, cafes and restaurants.

Unlike in the city however, the people were incredibly friendly. You were given more smiles and heard more hellos in one day walking the streets there than you’d had in a year walking down city streets. When you arrived at your grandmother’s property, you were shocked to discover it was a beachfront property, with two bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bathroom and a patio outside that gave a stunning view of the beach and sea.

By the end of the two weeks you didn’t want to leave or sell the property, so you started looking into how feasible it would be to live there. The biggest obstacle was your career, as a tattoo artist you thought it would be highly unlikely to find enough work in a small town to be able to live comfortably. Discovering that there was in fact a tattoo studio in the town's centre and it was advertising space for rent for tattoo artists, seemed like fate.

Deciding to go in with your portfolio, you discovered that the owner was a well built orc, called Sigmar and while he looked intimidating, he sent your heart rate rocketing for other reasons. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown colour and his hair was half shaven. The hair that he had was shoulder length and he had it in small braids decorated with beads. He was also covered in tattoos, which was not unusual for a tattoo artist and while he wasn’t particularly tall, he was still big, with a broad chest and muscular arms and legs.

Sigmar has taken a quick look through your portfolio and with a wide grin had offered you the space. Taking a few days, you travelled back to the city to get everything in order and then went and moved to West Oaks, with a new way of life and a new job.

Three months later and you couldn’t be any happier. You had made new friends and work was going great. Working with Sigmar was a blast and apart from the receptionist Keeya, who was a petite pretty moth, it was just the two of you in the studio. In the weeks you’d worked there you had developed more than a small crush on the orc.

You’d spent a lot of time with Sigmar, he’d invited you out for drinks after work a few times with his friends and while he was always quick to smile at you and very tactile, you’d observed he seemed to be the same with everyone. No mention had been made of him having a partner but despite how your pulse jumped every time he gave you a grin or touched you lightly on your arm, you were hesitant to do anything about it. Not only could it get awkward since you worked together but you didn’t know if he was interested in dating men or interested in humans in general.

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

You were busy prepping your equipment and watching Sigmar tattoo a frankly huge drider completely oblivious to your surroundings when Keeya brought you out of your thoughts.

‘‘You’ve got your next customer in twenty minutes,’’ she says, giving you a knowing look.

Flushing you nod to let her know you have heard her and you start working quicker. You’ve been so distracted watching Sigmar, you're nowhere near ready to ink a customer.

‘‘There… that’s you all done, take a look before I wrap it,’’ Sigmar tells the drider. Looking over you see the drider has had a pair of wings tattooed on his back, a bit of an odd choice for a spider you think. You hear the rest of their brief conversation until the drider leaves and Sigmar sits down with a sigh.

‘‘That was a tough one,’’ he says, turning his wrist in circles trying to work out the stiffness.

‘‘Was he your last customer for the day?’’ You ask.

‘‘Yeah… thankfully,’’ he says standing up, starting to clean up his work station. ‘‘I’ve been meaning to ask… have you got plans this weekend?’’

‘‘No… why?’’ You say, looking up at him surprised.

‘‘My parents are throwing Halden a birthday party Saturday night, you should come.’’ he replies. ‘‘It will be fun…’’ he adds, looking at you briefly grinning.

‘‘Are you sure they won’t mind?’’

‘‘Not at all. The more the merrier,’’ he laughs. ‘‘The place will be packed as it is, one more won't make a difference.’’

‘‘Yeah alright,’’ you say, watching as he grins widely.

‘‘Yes! Now I can show you how us orcs have a good time,’’ he says chuckling. ‘‘My brother Raum is coming home from the city with his new girlfriend so you’ll get to meet them too.’’

You smile, Sigmar’s excitement is obvious, ‘‘How long has been since you saw him?’’

‘‘Not since last Christmas,’’ he sighs. ‘‘Same with my cousins Breckin and Broden, they’ll be coming too hopefully, so it’s like a family reunion too.’’

‘‘Nice. What should I bring with me?’’ you ask.

‘‘Just yourself,’’ he says, shaking his head. ‘‘Everything else will be supplied.’’

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

The week passes quickly and you soon find yourself making your way Sigmars parents house with a tray of brownies you’d picked up at the bakery, not wanting to show up empty handed. You’d also picked up something for Sigmar’s little brothers birthday, not sure what the half-orc would like, not really knowing him, you’d settled for a gift card hoping he liked movies or gaming.

The party already seemed to be well underway, you can hear the sounds of laughter and cheering from halfway up the street. Ringing the doorbell, you wouldn’t be surprised if it goes unheard. Soon enough the door is being opened and you see an older female orc answer with a smile on her face, whom you assume is Sigmar’s mother.

‘Hi, I work with Sigmar...’’ you start, only to be interrupted as she suddenly hugs you tightly.

‘‘I know who you are dear, Sigmar hasn’t stopped talking about you since you started working at the tattoo studio,’’ she grins. ‘‘It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Eivor, come in, come in,’’ she says, pulling you into the house.

‘‘Um…thank you,’’ you mumble stunned, heart pounding at the knowledge that Sigmar had told his folks all about you. ‘‘These are for you,’’ you say, handing her the brownies.

‘‘Thank you dear, you shouldn’t have, but I’ll enjoy these anyway,’’ she laughs. ‘‘The boys are all in back garden,’’ she adds giving you shove towards the back door.

Outside you quickly spot Sigmar, who’s standing with Halden and another orc who looks a lot like him and has his arm around a human girl. They’re all gathered around two orcs that look like twins, who are arm wrestling each other. Spotting you, Sigmar grins and makes his way over to you.

‘‘Hey, you made it,’’ he says, grinning happily. He looks good you think swallowing tightly. He’s dressed smartly compared to his usual casual wear and even his tusks look like they have been polished.

‘‘I did. Thanks again for inviting me,’’ you say, then glance around. ‘‘This place is packed, I’m surprised it can fit so many people.’’

‘‘Yeah I know,’’ he laughs. ‘‘Come meet my brother Raum and his girlfriend,’’ he says, leading you over to the group.

He makes the introductions and you learn that the twins are his cousins Breckin and Broden who live in the city like Raum. Handing Halden his gift card, you apologise saying you weren’t sure what to get him. He assures you it’s all good, he loves gaming and thanks you for getting him something, claiming that you really shouldn’t have.

‘‘I hear you’ve only been in town a few months, how are you enjoying life here?’’ Raum asks you, handing you a beer he grabs out from a nearby cooler.

‘‘It’s really great, I love this place,’’ you reply smiling.

‘‘Isn’t it just beautiful,’’ Raum’s girlfriend sighs. ‘‘Raum rented us a beach house and it’s just stunning.’’

‘‘It is, I actually live in one of the beach houses, they really are beautiful,’’ you tell her.

‘‘Oh my god, you are so lucky,’’ she squeals suddenly jumping up and down in excitement. Raum laughs and cuddles her into his side. He suddenly leans down to whisper something in her ear and she blushes bright red. They make their excuses and move off, while the others all cheer and hoot.

You have a brief conversation with the twins about city life versus small town before they move on to talk to others. Haldens already wandered off at some point and now you find yourself alone with Sigmar.

‘‘Want another beer?’’ he asks, noticing your bottles now empty.

‘‘Sure,’’ you say, watching as he grabs you one. ‘‘Your family all seem really nice.’’

‘‘Yeah... they're a pretty good bunch,’’ he says smiling.

‘‘You have another brother right?’’ you ask questionly, not having been introduced to him.

He nods, ‘‘He couldn’t make it tonight, his wife is really sick and he didn’t want to leave her at home alone.’’

‘‘I’m sorry to hear that…’’ you say sympathetically.

‘‘It’s okay, hopefully she’ll be fine by morning… Want to go inside and grab something to eat?’’ he asks. Nodding, you let him lead you in to living area where a buffet style table has been set up.

You spend the rest of the party chatting to various relatives of Sigmar’s and other guests. At one point you tell Sigmar he doesn’t have to stay beside you all night but he just shakes his head and doesn’t leave your side. When you find yourselves back outside, he beckons you follow him down to the end of the garden.

‘‘Come on, I want to show you something,’’ he says leading you down to the bottom of the garden holding onto your hand. You feel your pulse jumping but tell yourself he’s only holding your hand because it’s so dark. As you approach the wall that signals the end of the garden, he stops and bends down encouraging you to sit on the ground beside him. You do, looking at him slightly confused. Taking your hand he places it down on the ground and you’re startled to feel some sort of plaque there.

The plaque itself is square and while it’s dark, you can just about make out some sort of symbol in gold which is raised in a circle in the middle of the plaque. Looking at Sigmar, you wait for some sort of explanation.

‘‘A few hundred years ago before this town was built, there wasn’t much here except an orc clan who built a compound up on the ridge of the mountain. The clan leader at the time was said to be the wisest and most fair leader the clan ever had… when humans and other monsters started building a town here, the orcs came down from the mountain and helped build it. This was his house, where he raised his five sons after their mother died. He eventually remarried, to a human woman and they were buried right here.’’ He pauses to take a breath and taps the plaque. ‘‘This is our clan sigil, this house has been in our family for generations, my family are descendants of Brodhir and with five sons you can imagine there’s a lot of us,’’ he finishes chuckling.

‘‘Wow that’s an impressive lineage… I didn’t realise the town had such a rich history,’’ you say, slightly stunned.

‘‘I didn’t show you this just to try and impress you,’’ he laughs. ‘‘When I was a boy, I fell off the wall and this plaque left an imprint on my ass for days. I was so upset that it didn’t last and that’s when I first knew I wanted a tattoo. So I started designing it, then a bunch of others until I realised my dream to be a tattoo artist.’’

‘‘That’s so cool… I wish I had an interesting backstory of why I wanted to be a tattoo artist,’’ you chuckle. Looking down you realise he’s still holding your hand in his, heart pounding you meet his eyes and you see him flush.

‘‘So… I don’t know if your just slow or maybe you’re not interested,’’ he flinches. Blushing he continues, ‘‘But I’ve been trying to flirt with you since I first met you... I really like you.’’ You look at him shocked, you had not picked up on that at all… ‘‘If don’t feel the same that’s cool though, we can just forget I said anything,’’ he says, looking down and removing his hand of yours.

‘‘No! I do, I mean, I like you too, like a lot…’’ you jabber stupidly, taking his hand back in yours. Taking a breath you continue, ‘‘I just didn’t know if you were interested in me… I never realised you were flirting with me.’’ Shaking your head, feeling like an idiot, you watch as he grins widely.

‘‘I’m not very practiced at flirting so I’ll forgive you for not noticing... if you’ll agree to meet me tomorrow night for a date?’’ he says hopefully, his green skin still flushed in embarrassment.

You chuckle. ‘‘Definitely,’’ you agree, smiling happily.

Both of you smile at each other like idiots for a minute until he eventually he looks away. ‘‘Can I kiss you now?’’ he asks, looking nervous, meeting your eyes briefly before flicking away again.

Feeling nervous yourself, you lick your lips nodding and meet him halfway. Both shy, your lips meet tentatively, a mere brush at first, his tusks pressing up against your cheeks. Kissing an orc wasn’t quite what you imagined and you have to angle very precisely but it feels good. Tangling your hands in his hair, you swipe your tongue along his lips and he opens his mouth allowing you to explore inside. Groaning he pulls away to take a deep breath, needing a breath yourself you open your eyes and see his are still closed and he’s panting lightly.

‘‘That was…’’ he swallows. ‘‘Good, really good…’’

Nodding, you agree silently. ‘‘We should probably return to the party,’’ he sighs, standing up and offering you a hand up.

Silently, glancing each other as you make your way back to the party, you see the twins grinning and giving you both knowing looks when they spot you. You don’t spend much longer at the party and say goodnight to everyone before you leave. Sigmar tells you he’ll call you in the morning to make the arrangements for your date and walks you to the front door, giving you a quick kiss as you part. You make your way home with a smile on your face and skip in your step.

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

Sigmar calls you in the morning just as he promised and you arrange to meet at one of your favourite restaurants, The Shark Tank. You spend the day etching tattoo designs in order to keep busy, when that fails you decide to take a walk along the beach. As you reach the cove, you smile seeing mermaids frolicking in the water.

By the time you return home, it’s time to shower and get dressed for your date. Sigmar is already waiting outside the restaurant when you arrive ten minutes early and he grins watching as you walk towards him.

‘‘Hey,’’ he says. As he pulls you into a half hug, his tusks press into your cheek slightly in what you assume was meant to be kiss, pulling away he chuckles slightly looking down. He’s nervous, you think elated and smile widely.

‘‘Hi, did the party end well last night?’’ you ask questionly.

‘‘For the most part, come on, I’ll tell you it all when we’re seated,’’ he says chuckling. Intrigued you follow him into the restaurant. Once you're seated, he explains, ‘‘Most of the guests started leaving shortly after you did, once everyone who wasn’t staying the night had gone, those of us remaining ended up playing a game in the living room. To cut a long story short, the twins got over competitive and ending up breaking a window.’’

‘‘Oh wow. I bet your mother isn't pleased.’’

‘‘Nope,’’ he chuckles. ‘‘But it’s not the first time it’s happened and I’m sure it won’t be the last.’’

A server you don’t recognise brings you the menu over and takes your drink order. The meal is delicious as always and the conversation flows nicely. Sigmar tells you more of his family stories and it seems that it’s always the twins that cause damage. He asks you to tell him more about your life in the city and surprises you when he says he’s never actually left West Oaks.

‘‘Really? But the city is only a four hour drive away…’’ you say astonished.

‘‘I know… it’s just, I’ve never felt the need to leave here.’’ he says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking embarrassed.

‘‘Fair enough, there's plenty here to do after all.’’

Quickly changing the subject, seeing he’s uncomfortable, you move to another topic. After paying the bill, you end up walking along the beach, seeing that your fast approaching your house, you point it out to Sigmar and asks if he wants to come in for a drink, he agrees nodding and you see his cheeks darken slightly.

You end up sitting together out on your patio on the bench, watching the sun set, making casual conversation. Looking over at Sigmar you see his gaze his locked on you and when you meet his eye he flushes, cheeks darkening.

‘‘Are you alright?’’ you ask curiously, turning to face him more directly.

‘‘Yeah…’’ he swallows. ‘‘It's just… been a long time for me…’’

‘‘Since you’ve been on a date you mean?’’

‘‘Yeah… that and all that goes with it,’’ he says, rubbing the back of his neck, nervously chuckling.

‘‘We don’t have to do anything, we can just sit and talk,’’ you say, smiling gently.

‘‘ No! I want you… I mean, I want to do more than just talk to you,’’ he says.

Putting your drink down, you cup his cheek in your hand and brush your lips gently across his. ‘‘Is this alright?’’ you ask him quietly, he nods quickly and putting his hand on the back of your head pulls you back to his mouth. Smiling you kiss him again and this time it’s his tongue that strokes across your lips asking for entry. Allowing his tongue in your mouth, you let him explore your mouth for a moment before stroking his tongue with your own. His hands trail down your chest until he’s cupping you through your jeans.

You gasp, pulling away and tipping your head back not expecting him to be so bold. He suddenly moves to kneel on the ground and unbuttons your jeans, looking up asking for approval, you give him a nod. Taking a deep breath as he pulls your cock out, you exclaim when he takes your cock in hand and runs his tongue over your tip.

‘‘Look at you, your so beautiful,’’ he smiles, before taking your cock in his mouth and swallowing you down. You grunt as you feel your cock hit the back of his throat. Tangling your hands in his hair, you clasp the back of head gently, not restricting his movement in any way. As he hollows his cheeks and starts working his head up and down, you moan and try to resist rutting up but eventually he has to move his arms over your thighs to stop you thrusting.

He draws back for breath, panting, and takes your cock in his hand working his wrist down and then up over the tip. ‘‘I’m close… so close,’’ you groan. Grinning, he takes your tip in his mouth and sucks on it, you swear grunting and mumble incoherently. Cupping your balls in one hand, he tugs them gently and you cry out, vision going white as he swallows you down. As your mind clears you see him watching you smiling, still stroking your slowly softening cock.

‘‘Holy crap, that was…’’  you pant, shaking your head. Trying to recover your breath, you tug him up, directing him to sit beside you again. Leaning towards him you brush your lips against his. ‘‘Give me a minute and I’ll return the favour.’’

‘‘I’d rather give you twenty and have you fuck me,’’ he chuckles.

‘‘Alright,’’ you laugh, slightly stunned he wants you to top. ‘‘We may want to take this inside though,’’ you say, looking around hoping no one has seen your show.

‘‘Not an exhibitionist then?’’ he chuckles.

Shaking your head, you try standing and find yourself wobbling. Sigmar stands, picks you up and grins carrying you inside.

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

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, don’t forget to reblog it. Likes/Comments are also appreciated.

My Masterlist

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 43 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 2,994

If you were to ask Logan, straight faced, no pomp, no circumstance, why he’s waited so long to tell Virgil about his promotion, he would probably do one of two things. Tell you the truth, or walk away in silence. Whether that silence is ashamed is up to you.

He’s hidden the new position for a couple months now—working closely with Mr. Jolenta all the while—and he still hasn’t told Virgil about it. Never the right time, never the right place, maybe he forgets, maybe Virgil doesn’t ask. His only saving grace is how many extra hours he was already working before the promotion—Virgil seems to have hardly noticed his increased absence. Maybe not the best outlook on the situation.

So when Logan leaves work even later than usual, some three aught months after his talk with Miss Katie-Lee, and finds himself caught in a thunderstorm, he wonders whether it would be the worst idea in the world to take it as a sign. If he were the type of person to read into those things, maybe he would.

As it stands, he waves back to Roman, who turns right and away as he leaves for the day. Logan absently thanks his lucky stars (not for the first time) that the old intern never told the news to Virgil. It probably helps that Roman got his own boost—from intern to full timer—but Logan will take what he can get.

He sighs to himself when he sees the apartment building shining between the raindrops. An easily overcome distance never looked so good. Logan picks up the pace, bolting for the stairs as soon as he reaches the complex. It’s a wonder his soaked shoes don’t slip out from under him on the concrete steps. Kicking the main door shut behind him as he enters the main room, he zeroes in on the couch and allows exhaustion to take him over. The new position, while nice in terms of the raise, is more than a little taxing.

A couple hours later, Logan wakes up to his phone pinging with a new message. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and unlocks the screen. Your Boy wants you to look at the island, it reads. Roman’s name scrolls across the top of the display. Said you’ll know what it means.

Logan sends off a thanks to Roman and yawns, glancing at the floating counter in the kitchenette. A travel mug of coffee atop a torn sheet of lined paper covered in dark blue ink awaits.

Lifting the mug to his lips, he reads over the note out of the corner of his eye. Meet at the photoshoot park. V. He hesitates, taking another pull of coffee and wondering what a photoshoot park could be. Slowly but surely, an image floats into his mind of Virgil beside a pond, showing off a cardigan that Logan hasn’t seen in ages.

He’s out the front door before the minute hand on his watch can tick over.

Miraculously, the storm has passed, which does nothing to ease Logan’s nerves as he wonders what this all could be about. Maybe Virgil found out about the promotion and got pissed that Logan didn’t tell him sooner. Maybe Roman told him, and he’s mad about having to hear it secondhand. Maybe he started picking up on how much extra wiggle room they’d had in their wallets lately. Admittedly not very much, as most of it goes toward bills that Virgil pretends not to notice, but an extra candy bar in the cupboard is nothing to scoff at.

The whole way to the park, Logan swerves around shrinking puddles that gather in holes burrowed through the sidewalk. With the abating rain and the moon trying to peek through the thinning clouds, his spirits lift enough for his mind to make a decision it has no business making. He’s going to tell Virgil about the promotion tonight, and maybe ask him a certain question that’s been hovering unspoken in the air between them, heavier than he would’ve thought possible these last several months. His hand instinctively flies to the lump in his jacket pocket, the contents of which he’s been carrying around for something to the tune of a year now.

He slips his hand around it as he approaches the park entrance, doing his best to look natural. Remarkably difficult a task, given his train of thought right now, but still. Careful to stay on the least muddy parts of the dirt path—an incredibly low bar to clear, mind you—Logan follows the trail into the heart of the park, taking vague note of how empty it is. Granted, very few self-respecting parents would bring their kids to a park so late at night like this, but the lack of other people is still unnerving.

A wave of relief washes over him when he sees Virgil’s familiar silhouette hunched in front of the pond. With one leg curled up under his chin and the other resting on the ground, Logan might believe he were asleep, were it not for the way he drums his fingers on the red and white checkerboard blanket beneath him. Actually, if the fringed texture is anything to go by, that might just be a beach towel.

Spread across the mat is an assortment of tupperwares with various maroon-tinted lids, each lightly capped and boasting basic picnic food. You’ve got your usual suspects—hot dogs, potato and macaroni salads, orange slices—and then you’ve got what looks like a valiant attempt at pasta. Maybe. It’s definitely a yellowed white, but that’s about all the investigation Logan manages before he notices the plastic tea lights set up around the corner of the blanket. Moreover, he notices the thing absorbing most of their artificial light—his glasses case, resting against Virgil’s side. Would he—? No, he wouldn’t, not with a glasses case.

Would he?

“What’s all this?” Logan asks, feeling the damp grass squelch underfoot as he steps off the path.

Virgil hardly flinches at his approach, not even turning around to address his question. “Just something special I wanted to do for you, since you’ve been so busy lately.” So he did notice. “You gonna sit down, or just keep standing there like a creep-o?”

After planting a kiss on Virgil’s head, Logan tucks his legs beneath him as he takes a position on the other side of the blanket. The glasses case rests between them. He runs his hand over the blanket and nods to himself. Definitely a beach towel. “You really did all this just to give me a nice night? All of it?”

“All of it.” Virgil indicates the various tupperware with a general wave, not looking away from the pond. “I couldn’t find, like, a picnic basket or anything, and this towel ran me a solid nine bucks at Target, but I think I did a pretty darn decent job of making that fettuccine alfredo like you taught me. All by myself, too. Can’t believe you slept through all that prep noise.”

“I’m so proud,” Logan says, scooting closer to wrap an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “What are the chances you thought to bring along utensils for this little outing of yours?”

“Pretty high, I would say.” Virgil produces yet another tupperware filled with plastic forks and knives and, knowing him, at least one spork. Priorities, people.

Logan follows Virgil’s gaze to the pond as he fumbles around for the nearest tupperware, content to watch the ripples skate across the surface in silence. Granted, they started those cooking lessons a while ago, but Virgil still managed to pull off some objectively impressive work tonight.

As the moon makes its slow trek across the sky, chasing away the last brave clouds into mist, Logan’s mind argues with his mouth over whether now is a good time to tell Virgil about the promotion. The best time probably would’ve been a couple months ago, but still. Just as he resolves to bring it up, Virgil decides his own voice should take priority. Perfectly fine by Logan.

“See that huge moon up there?”

“Yeah?”

“I still want you to bring it to me.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that. I’m just working out a contract with my people selling me the stars. The moon isn’t cheap, you know.” Virgil nods, quirking his mouth to the side and glancing at the heavens above. No time like the present. “Hey, um, I actually did have something I wanted to talk to you about. Kind of regarding the stars, actually.”

“Well, heck. I had something I wanted to talk about, too. Not regarding the stars, though.” Virgil glances from Logan to the glasses case and back, and if Logan didn’t know better, he might think that was a blush creeping across Virgil’s face.

Maybe he doesn’t know better.

A moment’s pause, and they both say in sync, “You can go first. No, you. Really, it’s—you can—okay, I’ll—” Virgil stops first, pretending to zip his lips. The glasses case stares at Logan. He stares back. The stars, the park, the picnic, the secrecy? What else could it be?

He waits for Virgil to talk again, but his boyfriend merely fixes him with a pointed stare. Logan swallows around the lump in his throat. “So, um, you remember that meeting I had? Like, a few months ago?”

“Oh, right, that huge interview deal or whatever. You never told me how that went down.”

“So as it turns out, um, I got the promotion, and it put me even higher than they told me it might.”

“What! Babe, that’s fantastic news! When did you find out? When do you start?”

Logan sucks a sharp breath through his teeth and winces. “Um. The day of the meeting? Same day offer, next day start.”

Virgil goes stiff under Logan’s arm, but he doesn’t pull away. Not yet, at least. “That, um, that’s great. Really, really good. Why did you not tell me sooner?” Logan can’t bring himself to look at Virgil’s face. He doesn’t want to know if this comes off as bad as it feels. It probably does. It’s probably worse.

“I didn’t, um, I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It meant more hours, a heavier workload, more things I have to oversee, not to mention that I’m being considered for training to become an actual, legitimate, genuine part of the aeronautic branch of the company.”

Virgil remains silent long after Logan forces the truth out all in one breath, not looking away from a growing ripple on the pond. It bumps up against a rock, rebounding across the surface before dithering to hide in the reedy grass. “I’m happy for you, really, I just—it’s just really sucky that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“I know, I know, and that was a super bad move on my part. I just didn’t want you to worry, since astronaut work is obviously way more dangerous than basic intern stuff, not that I have to, y’know, tell you that.” Logan laughs uncomfortably. Virgil does not laugh back.

“Yeah, well, no shit, Sherlock.” Virgil finally moves out from under Logan’s arm and whips his head around to stare at him. Logan can’t tell whether he’s mad or hurt or both. Maybe both. Probably both. “You not wanting to hurt my feelings doesn’t make it suck any less that you didn’t tell me about something so big. Do you have even the smallest sense of how crappy this feels for me?”

“I just—no, I don’t. I don’t because you’ve never put me through anything like this, and it’s cruel and unacceptable on my end, and I wish I’d told you sooner, because you being mad at me is just about the worst I’ve ever felt, and that’s not even slightly on you, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s not enough, but I am, and I just wanted you to know that. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I sprung it on you like this. Truly, I am. I care about you so, so much, more than any promotion or any picnic could say.”

Virgil hesitates, working a few muscles in his jaw. “Maybe not just any picnic.”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Virgil scoots closer to Logan and shifts his gaze to the stars, looping Logan’s arm back over his shoulders. For fear of seeing tears there, Logan doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s okay, just—it’s just a lot. I mean, I’m happy for you. Had to happen eventually, right, so you could work on getting off-planet? That’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“Yeah, I—it is. It really is.”

“Plus, it might be a little easier for you to get me my present if you can actually, physically go to space.”

“Your present?”

“The moon.”

“Right, right, the moon. How do I keep forgetting that?” An awkward silence falls, during which Logan finds his eyes drawn to the glasses case. There’s no way he’s misreading this, the situation is just way too obvious. Why else would Virgil go to all these lengths to set this up?

When Virgil moves to grab the glasses case, Logan nearly chokes on an inhale.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs.

“What?” Virgil hesitates, his hand freezing a few inches above the case. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just—just finish whatever you were about to do.” Logan is trying very hard to maintain a passive expression. He is failing miserably.

“Okay, weirdo.” Virgil shifts his body to hide the contents of the case as he pulls it into his lap and stares at whatever rests inside. Silence. And more silence. And more.

“So,” Logan says suddenly. His voice very much cracks. “Um, so earlier, you said you had something to talk about? Not regarding the stars, I mean.” His heart leaps out of his chest as that familiar pinkness spreads across Virgil’s cheeks.

“Right. Yes. Um.” Virgil hems and haws a good while longer, glancing between Logan and the glasses case. “Well, I mean, I guess this is kind of hard to say—not that there’s any easy way to put it, I guess, unless I wrote it on a piece of paper or something like if I had a script, but—”

“Just spit it out, love.”

Virgil swivels the case around to face Logan, who swears he can see a sparkle reflected inside from the tea lights. His heart is now firmly lodged in his throat. “I was reorganizing some stuff earlier, and I think I may have accidentally broken your backup glasses. Sorry about that.”

Logan can only stare in flabbergasted silence as Virgil places the case on his knee, and sure enough, his old prescription rests inside, snapped along the bridge. His heart finds a new forever home somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles. “Are you kidding me?”

“I know, I messed up too, but I swear, I didn’t mean to—”

“ That’s what all this fuss was about?”

“I’m not sure I understand your confusion.” Virgil looks at Logan, then down at the case, and immediately straightens his back as his mouth drops into a surprised ‘O.’ “Oh. Oh. You thought—oh my god, you thought that I was gonna—”

“Yeah, yes, I did think that you were gonna. I really did.”

“Well, if I were to do, you know, that, I certainly wouldn’t be so tacky or nervous about it.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Logan’s hand falls to the familiar rounded cube in his pocket. “Great, so tell me how you would do it instead, then.”

“Well, y’know, I think I might do it a little something like this.” Virgil leans away from Logan, reaching for something in his back pocket. Logan’s heart is steadily making its way up his spine. He starts shaking his head, slowly at first, then faster, faster faster faster. Virgil produces a little velvet box. Oceans of goosebumps race from Logan’s shoulders to his trembling fingers. When he thought he knew what to expect, he sort of believed it, but seeing it actually happening? Forget it. Out of the question.

“Logan Marcus Walders,” Virgil says, shifting to one knee.

“Oh my god.”

“These last few years have easily been the best of my entire life.”

“Oh my god.”

“No other geeky little shortstop has ever caught my eye so quickly as you did.” His voice cracks on the word ever. Logan’s heart is hovering somewhere near the upper limits of the atmosphere right now.

“Oh my god.”

“Would you stop saying that and just let me get through this before I lose my nerve?” Virgil flips open the box and holds it closer to Logan, who is shaking his head faster than ever. He isn’t even certain he’s still breathing, and his heart has left the scene entirely. “You mean the absolute world to me and beyond, Logan, and there is absolutely no one on or above this planet that I’d rather explore it with. You promised me the moon at my price of the stars, but I would sacrifice all of that and more in an instant if you would do me the honor of marrying me.”

Logan shakes his head harder still, unable to form words as tears bead up at the corners of his eyes. “I can’t—”

“Fine, I’ll say it again, but this is the last time, okay?” Virgil licks his lips and gives a hollow laugh. The box trembles in his hands. “Logan Marcus Walders, notable soon-to-be space explorer, ambassador to the stars, will you marry me?”

“I don’t—I don’t know what to—”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Virgil whispers, his voice wobbling more than his hands holding a box holding a ring holding the promise of their future together.

“Yes,” Logan finally manages to choke out. “Yes, yes, a million times over, a million worlds away, yes.”

[kriscme]

Another three chapters

Hi, here’s the next three.  This is going to be longer story than I thought.  As usual, I have no idea where this is going. But there will be a love interest for Katniss soon. Chapter 17. The fresh meat in the fridge and the canned food are where I left them, untouched.  I’m annoyed but not surprised.   Haymitch neglects to feed himself, let alone a neighbour’s cat.  Peeta would have been the reliable choice to take care of Buttercup’s needs while I was gone.  But I didn’t want to ask him, so that left Haymitch.   But Buttercup hasn’t starved despite the pitiful mewing and reproachful looks he greets me with.  I left him a mountain of dry cat food and he’s more than capable of feeding himself anyway. It might do him some good to keep up his hunting skills and catch his own food for a change.  That goes for me too.  There’s still a week to go of the winter break before school resumes and I intend to spend every one of those days in the woods.   Before I do, I check in with Haymitch.  I want to tell him what I discovered about Lace. I thought of nothing else on the long train journey home.  No, that’s not quite true.  Lulled by the gentle rocking of the train, I fell into a doze and I couldn’t help memories of other train journeys drifting in.  Of nights with Peeta, safe and snug in his strong arms, the comforting rise and fall of his chest against my cheek, a slight breeze from an open window fanning my skin.  I had to give myself a shake and a stern talking too.   Allowing myself to indulge in such thoughts won’t help. To my surprise, Haymitch is neither here nor there about my news.  I thought he’d be as concerned as I am. “Look, if he was about to marry the girl, I might feel that I’d have to step in.  But what of great importance has she kept from him, exactly?  He already knows about the pregnancy and miscarriage.  Half the country is pretending to be something else, depending on where they settle. Old hatreds die hard and the war didn’t change that.   What’s a name change and a little stretching of the truth if it keeps the peace?   Besides, he won’t thank us.  He’s sure to see it as interference.  I say let sleeping dogs lie.  For the moment, anyway.  And who knows, maybe she’ll tell him herself in good time.  She might be forced to anyway, if Arthur tells her that you know. She’ll want to get in before you do.” Haymitch reaches out for another cookie.   I found a bag of them at my front door and brought them over to share.  A welcome home gift from Peeta, I assume.   He keeps me well supplied.   I have to admit that he does have a point. I wouldn’t expose my former prep team.  They have also bent the truth about their past to fit into a new district.   To their mind, they’ve done nothing wrong.  They thought they were helping the tributes by presenting them as attractively as they could.  But others, perhaps like Gale had, wouldn’t see it that way and would rather see them tarred and feathered and run out of 12. I try a different tack.  “It doesn’t seem right, that’s all.  You know Peeta has trust issues.  It’s important that what he’s told is real.  How is he going to get better if people lie to him?  People he’s supposed to trust? He’ll go straight back to doubting what’s real or not real.” “Then he learns not to take everyone at face value.  What do you care, anyway?  I thought you were cutting him from your life,” he says.

“I am.  But it doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to him.  I want him to be happy.  And I don’t think he’ll be happy being lied to.  Didn’t you tell me that I have to be honest with him because if I’m not, then he won’t trust me with the truth?  I don’t know why it should be any different for Lace.” “We weren’t talking about Lace.  We were talking about you,” Haymitch points out. “Lace isn’t the key to his past, like you are.  Whatever she did before they met, it didn’t involve him.  In any case, I don’t think you’re in a position to lecture anyone about honesty.” “What does that mean?” I ask, my hackles rising. “I mean that you’re not being honest with him either.  You say you want nothing more to do with him, yet I see you walking into town with him most mornings.  What’s Peeta supposed to make of it?”   “He’s the one who waits for me!” I splutter indignantly.  “What am I supposed to do?  Just ignore him and pretend he doesn’t exist? ” “You could tell him the truth.”

Not this again.  Haymitch and I will never agree on what I should do about Peeta.   “I’ve done nothing but tell the truth, much good it’s done me.  Whatever he’s asked, I’ve answered as honestly as I can.   If he asks, I’ll tell him.   But he doesn’t ask.  We’ve been over this before.  Peeta’s moved on and I want to as well.   He doesn’t want to lose the friendship.  That’s why he hangs around me so much.” I understand exactly what Peeta is feeling.  I went through it with Gale.  Clinging to the friendship and giving hope when there wasn’t any.  But it wasn’t fair to him.  And this isn’t fair to me.  Turning someone loose can be the kindest thing you can do for them. Peeta would agree, if he knew. “Peeta can’t have us both - me to hang-out with, and Lace to . . . well, whatever it is they do together,” I say. “I’ll take a guess as to what Peeta and Lace get up to,” says Haymitch, giving me an arch look.    Peeta’s a healthy young adult, physically anyway, and we know Lace has had at least one lover, so my guess is – “ “Just shut up about it, Haymitch.”  I say irritably.  I know what he’s doing.  It’s a tactic he’s tried before. He’s trying to goad me to act.   “I really don’t care what they do.” “Yes, you do, despite whatever nonsense you’re telling yourself.”  Haymitch rises from his chair to shamble over to a sideboard piled with books, discarded bottles and loose bits of paper.  “I don’t know what they do together.  Peeta doesn’t talk about her.  Hasn’t in weeks.  They could be doing jigsaw puzzles for all I know.”   “Peeta doesn’t like jigsaw puzzles.”

Haymitch doesn’t answer.  He’s busy sorting through the papers.   “Ah, here it is.   The council asked me to pass this on.”  Haymitch hands me a long white envelope addressed to me.  There’s a coffee stain ring left by a cup resting on it. “How long have you had this?” I ask. “Not long. A few days, maybe.  It’s a job offer.  Apparently, you left your name with the council a while back.” I had forgotten about that.  That was the day I went looking for work.  I found a job at the bakery and Max approached me to work at the school.   The council wasn’t hiring at the time, but I left my name and credentials in case anything became available.   I tear open the envelope and pull out the letter.  “They want me to act as a guide for some man who’s surveying the woods or something.  It will have to fit with my job at the school if I do it.  If they’re happy with three days over weekends it could work out.”   I stuff the letter into my pocket.  I want to get home now.  I’ve told Haymitch about Lace and now it’s up to him.  His favourite soap will be on soon and I know he doesn’t like to miss it.  “One Life to Live” – the saga of two rival families and a forbidden love.   “I’ll go now and let you get back to the TV,” I tell him.  “Maybe tonight Blake and Celia will get their act together.  How long have they dragged this out?  Two seasons?” “Three.  And they won’t.  Because they’re idiots.  It’s my curse to be surrounded by them.” I give Haymitch a baleful look.  It’s wasted because his back is to me as he reaches for the TV remote.  I get my revenge by snatching up the bag with the cookies and dashing out the door before he has time to say anything.   A short time later, I’ve settled in for some television watching of my own with a cup of tea and the bag of cookies.   I don’t remember Peeta making this kind before – soft, buttery with the outside rolled in cinnamon and sugar.  I’m glad I didn’t leave them with Haymitch.  I flick through the channels.  There’s been an explosion of them since Plutarch became secretary of communications.  He sets the programming for the airwaves.  We have him to thank for “One Life to Live” of which he took over as executive producer.   I switch to a news program.  It’s a piece about that Muir person I read about.  The one who wants to go around establishing national parks.  He’s currently in 7, lamenting how much woodland has been sacrificed for commercial timber production.  He wants legislation put in place immediately to stop further damage.  The logging companies don’t support it.  They had hoped that with the overthrow of the Snow regime, the woods would be opened up as a sort of free-for-all.   But Muir’s managed to raise a lot of support from the local community.  They’ve formed protest groups and do bizarre things like chaining themselves to trees.  One woman, who looks suspiciously like Johanna Mason, has gone one step further and has chained herself naked to a large oak.   The camera, after a lengthy time showing her in long shot, zooms in on her face.  Yes, it’s Johanna.  And having the time of her life, by the look of it.   The program goes to a commercial break. I flick through a few more channels before settling on “One Life to Live.”  I wouldn’t admit it to Haymitch, but I do watch it occasionally.  It’s so slow moving you can miss entire episodes and still pick up the plot easily. 

Celia Chastely and Blake Knight are from families who at odds. The Chastelys own a large agricultural farm in District 11 somewhere near the border of District 5.  They are committed to the production of organic fruits and vegetables, chemical free and using only sustainable farming methods.  The Knights, from District 5, are oil barons whose fields show signs of running dry.  However, they’ve identified a rich oil reservoir on adjoining land.  The difficulty is that this land belongs to the Chastelys who refuse to allow the Knights access.  They don’t want anything to compromise the integrity of their produce. Celia and Blake first met when they were aged about eleven.  Celia was riding her horse – an activity her parents encouraged as a healthy form of exercise, and an efficient method of delivering organic fertilizer in the form of horse manure to the outlying orchards.  Blake had accompanied his father to inspect a new rig and had wandered down to the boundary fence with the idea of scaling it to help himself to an apple, or two.   Just as Blake leaped down from the tree, Celia came upon him.  Her horse startled and she was thrown.  She wasn’t injured, being more shocked than anything.  Angry at first, she was soon won over by Blake’s concern and help in retrieving her horse.  It was the start of a covert friendship.  Neither dared tell their parents about it, afraid that they would be forbidden to see each other. Over time, friendship turned to love.   When they were sixteen, Blake told Celia that he was in love with her.  But Celia, confused about her feelings, but knowing that a union between them could only end in sorrow, told Blake she didn’t feel the same way and they must stop seeing each other.  Blake was crushed but he had no choice but to accede to Celia’s wishes.   Celia lived up to her name.  Beautiful but unattainable, suitors came and went, defeated by Celia’s impenetrable veneer of purity.   Blake, reeling from the pain of unrequited love, fell for the wiles of the conniving Ginger Morgan, girl-on-the-make. As they move about in society – parties, balls, hayrides - Celia and Blake are often in the same company.  Coolly polite when they interact, they are unaware of the deep, passionate love the other has for them.   Celia is convinced that Blake loves Ginger, and Blake is convinced that Celia can never love him.   In tonight’s episode, Blake proposes marriage to Ginger after she tells him she’s pregnant with his baby.   The child’s father is actually the lead guitarist in a rock band with whom Ginger had a brief fling a few months ago.  Celia has a nervous breakdown when she hears and the episode ends with Celia standing at her bedroom window, tears streaming down her face.

I grab the remote and turn off the TV in disgust. The whole situation makes me want to throw up.  Fools!  Why can’t they just be honest with each other?  Why do they always assume to know what the other is thinking?  Communication!  That’s all it would take.   Their problems aren’t insurmountable.  I don’t know why I watch this rubbish.   But I guess it did, at least, get my mind off what Haymitch hinted at before, when we talked about what Peeta and Lace do together.  It’s been niggling at me since he said it.   It’s not something I haven’t guessed at, but it’s another to thing to have Haymitch bring it up.  It makes it more real, somehow, that it’s not just me who thinks it.    Of course they would be having sex.  Peeta is nearly twenty.   Lace must be twenty-one if she was seventeen at the time of our Victor’s tour.  And she’s had sex before.  She’d be experienced then.  Do men like that?  I suppose they must.  I can’t imagine it would be as enjoyable with someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing. Like me.   In my dreams that night, I’m at the mayor’s party in my midnight blue Cinna dress with the diamonds.  Max spins me around and diamonds pop off in every direction, whizzing through the air and hitting people close by, including Lace who is struck on the side of her head.  Peeta frowns at me, at first in disapproval and then in disgust.   I look down at my dress and see that it’s disintegrated into a pile of ash at my feet.   I’m naked except for my silver high heeled shoes.   I hear someone call out “Katniss Ever-ready.”  Is it Max?  I don’t know. All my focus is on Peeta as he grabs Lace by the hand and leads her through a set of swinging double doors. I follow them into a labyrinth of dark passageways, intersecting, and twisting this way and that.  I soon lose sight of them in the darkness and I’m afraid that I might be lost in there forever.   My feet hurt and I take off my shoes, holding them in one hand and using the other to feel my way along the passage walls. 

Presently I hear what sounds like soft grunts.  I follow the sound, listening carefully as it grows louder until I come to the end of the passage where it intersects with another.  In one direction there’s darkness, but the other is flooded with light.   But when I turn into the lit passage, relieved to have found a way out, I freeze with shock.   There, standing directly under a wall sconce, and bathed in light, is Peeta and Lace.  My brain registers every detail.  I don’t know how, because I’m incapable of ordered thought.  But like a camera, it records every image.  Every nuance.  And this is something I’d like so much to forget. Peeta’s back is to me.  Lace is behind him, her back pressed against the wall.   His pants are slack around his hips.   Her dress is rucked up around hers, one leg wraps his waist.  His hand squeezes her breast, while the other is tangled in her hair.   His face is mashed against hers, mouths working feverishly together.  His hips thrust rhythmically into hers.  With every thrust, her leg tightens around him.  With every thrust, one, or both of them, grunt.  My shoes slip from my fingers, and fall to the ground with a clatter.   Peeta slowly turns his head in my direction, but his hips keep thrusting.  He’s grinning at me.  “Katniss,” he says. “Why so shocked?  You’re so . . . pure.” Lace is mocking.  “So pure,” she repeats scornfully.  “No wonder he turned elsewhere.” I turn heel and run, back into the dark where I don’t have to see such things.  “Virgin, virgin, stupid, stupid virgin,” Lace calls after me. I wake sweating and with a racing heart.   It was just a dream, I tell myself, just a dream.  But at the mayor’s party they really did disappear behind a set of swinging double doors.  I didn’t dream that.  It happened.  And Peeta did leave with Lace after Max spun me around when we danced.  And Lace’s hair was mussed when they eventually returned to the party.   I’m convinced now that if I had followed them, I would have caught them having sex. Not just making out.  But having sex.  Probably in some dark corner somewhere, rutting like animals, and grunting like the pig the Mellarks kept behind their shop.   What else would they have been doing?  Couldn’t even wait until they got home.  How tacky!  How disrespectful!  I hate him! Hate him, hate him, hate him!   Chapter 18 It’s fortunate that I don’t see Peeta until the day when school resumes.  I’ve since calmed down and made myself see reason.  It was only a dream, after all.  I don’t know what they did behind those swinging double doors.   But even if Peeta and Lace did sneak away for sex, it’s none of my business.  There was never an understanding between us, and there certainly isn’t one now. Peeta’s free to have sex with whoever he likes.  As am I. It’s of no comfort though, the thought of having sex with whomever I like.   The only one I want to do it with is Peeta. As soon as I see him, I’m ashamed of myself. His open, honest face glows with pleasure when I emerge from my house.  He’s waiting to walk with me into town, as he does every work day.  None of this is his fault.  I need to remind myself of it constantly.   This jealousy of mine gets worse, not better as I hoped it would.  I just want the torture to end.   “Thanks for the cookies you left for me. They were delicious,” I say.   Guilt makes me say the first kind thought that comes into my head. Peeta smiles at me.  “You’re welcome.  There’s a story behind those cookies.  It’s an old family recipe, but do you think I could remember it?” He shakes his head.   “I must have baked hundreds of them when I worked in the bakery.  But I just couldn’t replicate it.  Something was always missing.  But then Dr Aurelius suggested that I stop trying.  To just go through the motions and not think about it except to keep the final result in mind.  So, I creamed butter with sugar, like I usually do when I make cookies, but when I went into the pantry for baking soda, I also found myself reaching for cream of tartar.   And that was it!  That’s what was missing.  You don’t have snickerdoodles without it.” “Is that what they’re called? Snickerdoodles?  I like the name.  I ate almost all of them in a single sitting.  Well, not almost all of them,” I add, in case I sound like the glutton I really am.  “Haymitch helped.”   “Dr Aurelius said that technique might help with regaining other memories.  To re-enact them, without thinking about it too much, while I visualize what I do remember,” he says. “Maybe,” I say.  “I guess it can’t hurt.”  I don’t have high hopes, despite memories coming back.  Not the way Peeta interprets everything.   “How was the wedding?” Peeta asks.   “It was good.  Sateen got the wedding she wanted.  Lots of tulle, lots of guests, lots of bridesmaids.  And the Buttons were very welcoming.  They had a dinner for me and showed me around 8.   It’s changed a lot from how we remember it.  I mean, how I remember it,” I quickly correct myself. “I remember quite a lot about 8, actually. Grey and depressing.  Nothing but factories and tenements.” I nod. “That’s it.”  A thought comes into my head.  “Do you remember the Victory tour party?” “Yes.  Not that there was anything particularly memorable about it.  It was just as awful as the rest of them.” He doesn’t remember meeting Lace then.   He’d mention it, if he did. “It’s much better for factory workers now,” I say.   “Most of the tenements are gone, and they’ve been replaced with nice new apartments with courtyards.   And there’s plenty of parks and gardens too.  And shops of every kind.  Lace would barely recognize it.  Does she ever talk about going back, even to visit?”  

“Lace doesn’t talk about 8.  Too many painful memories, I guess.”  I watch Peeta’s face carefully for any change of expression, but there is none.  My guess is that she still hasn’t told him.  Haymitch either.   “Yeah, I guess,” I say.  And too much to hide, I silently add. I hitch the straps of my pack forward to ease some of the weight off my shoulders.  It’s heavy with books I borrowed from the Matsons to read over the break.  They’re training me to take a more active role in the classroom.  At the moment I teach nature studies and assist Moira with the little ones.  The Matsons want me to have a class of my own teaching first graders.  They say it’s the next step.   And needed too, with the school expanding as it is.   “Here, let me take that,” says Peeta, taking the pack from me and lifting it to his own shoulders.   “There’s no need,” I protest.  But I’m happy to have Peeta carry it.  My back feels deliciously light to be relieved of its burden.   “Did Arthur enjoy the wedding?” Peeta asks. “Oh, um, I suppose,” I say, with a laugh. “He seemed to, although I don’t think social occasions in general are Arthur’s thing.  Not unless there’s business contacts to be made, that is. Why do you ask?”  I’m curious why Peeta wants to know.  It was his sister’s wedding.  And he’d be among people he had known for years.   Why wouldn’t he enjoy it? “Just something Lace said.  About how boring weddings are in 8 and she was glad she didn’t have to go.  Lace loves parties so that’s really saying something.  She seemed to think Arthur was in for a miserable time.” “Oh,” I say, considering it.  It sounds like sour grapes to me.   She’d know what kind of wedding Sateen would have.   Lace is a long-standing friend of Arthur and Sateen’s and a member of the owner class herself.  I’m certain she would have been invited if the circumstances were different.  But, as things are, it would have been impossible.   People like Aunt Paisley would have made mincemeat out of her.  Maybe even boycotted the wedding if it was known she’d be there.  How galling it must be that I got to go when she didn’t.  Perhaps she’d imagined that I’d have a great fuss made over me too.  But why single out Arthur, rather than me, for not having a good time?  It would make more sense to hope that I’d be the one who’d be miserable.   Unless . . . she thinks Arthur is interested in me. Sateen could have given her that impression.  And she also saw Arthur and me having lunch together.  Why, she’s jealous!  Jealous that Arthur’s devotion might go to another.  And to me, of all people.   How ironic for Arthur, if that all he had to do to get Lace’s attention, was to appear to look elsewhere. “Well, I suppose Lace’s experience with weddings in 8 would be as a factory worker,” I say.   “If they’re anything like the weddings in Seam, it would have been no big deal.”     A trip to the Justice Building.  A small celebration with close family and friends and maybe some cake, if it could be afforded.  And then escorting the newlyweds to their new home to sing the traditional song as they crossed the threshold.  The final ceremony, the toasting, was a private one.  That was a typical Seam wedding. Again, I watch Peeta’s expression.  There’s no change when I mention factory worker. “Yeah, I guess that would be it,” says Peeta, not looking entirely convinced.   We walk in companionable silence for a little while.  It’s a beautiful day.   Clear blue skies, the snow glistening in the sunlight.    It reminds me of other walks into town with Peeta before he was hijacked.   He’d take me by the hand as we walked.  It was part of the act, of course. We had to be seen to be lovers when we were in public.  But it felt so natural, I was never aware that that’s what it was.  I must have loved him then, without realizing it. The memory makes it that much harder for what I must do next.  I can’t continue as things are.  I want an end to it.  I want no more dreams like I had the other night. I take a deep breath.  Courage, Everdeen.  “So, when are you and Lace getting married?” I ask brightly.   Peeta appears startled and it takes a few moments for him to answer.  “What? Married?  I haven’t even thought about it.  We haven’t known each other for that long.” “It’s almost a year since you started dating. My parents married after only a few months.  Not that they dated, exactly, but you know what I mean.  I just thought . . . well, the two of you seem to be very much in love. And when you’ve found the one you’re meant to be with . . .” I say, trailing off.   “You think Lace is the one I’m meant to be with?” he asks, somewhat dubiously. “Well, I don’t know.   Only you can answer that.  But if you’re sure, and there’s no one else, I can’t see the point of dragging things out.  We’ve both lost people close to us.  Who knows how much time we have?  Maybe we should grab what we can, while we can.” “I suppose you have a point.   But marriage . . .  it’s a big step to take.    I don’t know what Lace thinks about it either.” “There’s only one way to find out.”  Lace will jump at it.  Married to the man of her fantasies, it’s a dream come true. “But she seems smitten with you.   It’s the same for you, isn’t it?   Love at first sight, being a good boyfriend more important than anything.”  I can’t help sounding bitter at this, but Peeta doesn’t seem to notice.  His brow is creased in thought.  It’s the same expression he has when he’s trying to make sense of his tangle of memories. What’s real or not real.   “I try to be a good boyfriend,” he says, uncertainly.   “I don’t know.  I’ll have to give it some thought.  But you think it’s a good idea?” He looks intently at me, as if the answer is to be found in me somehow. 

“It’s not about what I think, Peeta.   It’s what you think.  She’s the girl of your dreams, isn’t she?”

At this, Peeta seems more confused than ever.   Worse, he looks almost panicked.  Suddenly I’m sorry I brought the subject up.   I was sure I was only voicing what Peeta was already thinking.  It was just to give him a nudge in the direction he was going in anyway.  And to give him permission to do as he wanted, in case his need to hold on to my friendship was holding him back, as mine did with Gale.   “Look, I’m sorry I mentioned it.   It’s none of my business who, or when, you marry. Please forget what I said.  I have marriage on the brain from Sateen’s wedding, that’s all.” Peeta nods, and we lapse into silence again.   But the sense of peacefulness has gone. I have this awful feeling that I’ve planted a seed – a seed that might not have existed before.  Peeta is vulnerable to suggestion.  I hope I haven’t steered him in the wrong direction. I reap what I’ve sown a week later.   It’s late on a Sunday morning when Haymitch comes in to my house unannounced.  I’ve just returned from a hunt, my game bag still in hand, and eager to change out of my clothes as soon as possible.   I’d slipped and fallen in a puddle of melting snow. My back is sodden.

He gets right down to it.  “I have some news about Peeta.  You’ll want to sit down for this.”

“Just tell me,” I say.  I dump my game bag onto the kitchen bench and turn to face him.  He looks worried and that makes me worried. “Has something bad happened?” “You could say that.  He’s got himself engaged.  To Lace.” I stare blankly at him.  “Right,” I finally get out.   I clutch the back of a kitchen chair to keep myself steady.   “Well, I suppose it’s not unexpected.  It’s been coming for some time.  As long as Peeta is happy.”   “Oh, he’s happy, alright.  He’s whistling about the place, he’s so happy.  He was at my house almost at the crack of dawn to announce the news.  I’ve been waiting for you to return so I could warn you before he comes here.” “Thank you, but Peeta and I don’t visit each other’s homes anymore.  Not without an invitation,” I say.   My voice sounds abnormally calm.   I don’t know what’s the matter with me.  I should be devastated.  But I just feel numb. “Katniss, it’s alright to be upset.  I know it’s a shock.  But we have to stop it.  He can’t marry in the state he’s in.  To anyone.  And we barely know the girl, except that she’s lied about who she is,” he says. “Maybe Dr Aurelius will talk to him.  But I think we should let him be.  I’ve interfered enough.  I just make him worse, whatever I do.”   I did this.  This is my fault.  I thought I was doing him a favour.  But I was just being selfish, like I always am.  I wanted an end to it.  Not for Peeta’s sake, but my own.  And I got my wish.  I put the thought of marriage into his head, just as I put the notion of her being his girlfriend into his head.   “He loves Lace.  I know he does.  And I think she loves him,” I say.  “We have to let him find his own happiness, whether we agree with it or not.  He deserves that, after everything.”

“What he deserves is to be protected from himself until he’s well enough to make that kind of decision on his own,” Haymitch argues. He runs a hand through his hair and begins pacing the room.  “Fuck, it was those tapes.  I should have been more forthcoming with him.  Came straight out with it, instead of fucking around, only revealing bits of information at a time.  I’m sorry, Katniss, but this is my fault.”

This gets my attention.  How could it be both our fault?   “Why?  What’s been on the tapes?”   “Until recently, nothing much that involved you.    Aurelius had to change the sequence when you dropped out, so there was a delay before he got back into it.   But then what he mostly sent was Peeta’s own game before you allied with him.  How he got in with the careers, the two of you in the training centre, that sort of thing.  But the last one . . .  It was the interview you both did with Caesar after you won the Games.  He asked if it was part of the act.  And I told him that you were acting, but he wasn’t.   And then, later on the train journey home, why I told the two of you to keep up the act a little longer.  That it was to give you an out – so that you wouldn’t have to keep up the pretense once the cameras were gone.”   I think back to the Caesar Flickerman interviews after Peeta and I won the Games.  I’d played the romance angle for all it was worth, and thought Peeta was doing the same. But what had been a strategy for me, had been real for him.  When the truth came out, it caused a rift that wouldn’t heal until we were forced back into each other’s company for the Victory Tour.   “What did he say?” I ask. “Nothing!  Not one question, except to ask if I wanted another drink.  But his face had gone white, as if he’d just received bad news.    And then he left the room.  And when he came back a few minutes later with a pot of tea, he was normal again.” He stops his pacing for a moment.  “I don’t even drink tea,” he adds as an afterthought. 

“But that shouldn’t have upset Peeta.  He knew I was acting, and last I heard, he thought he was too.  The worst that could have happened is that he’s gone back to thinking it was an illusion, rather than an illusion of an illusion.   You know, that he did feel love for me, but it was based on an illusion.”  I give my head a shake to clear it.   “I mean, it still doesn’t count.  And, even if it did, I don’t see how it would make him propose to Lace.” I hear a note of hysteria creep into my voice. The numbness is starting to leave and feeling is coming back.   Despite my wet, dirty clothes, I unhook my fingers from the back of the chair and sit down on its padded seat.  My legs are having trouble keeping me up. “He could have dropped the illusion thing altogether and now believes that what he felt for you was real, even if you didn’t return it,” he says. “But that still doesn’t explain anything. Even if he thinks it was real, it doesn’t mean he still feels it.  Why would he marry Lace, if he’s in love with me?” And then it dawns on me.  He wouldn’t.   Peeta is following his own inclinations. He wouldn’t marry one girl, if he was in love with another.  He has his parent’s unhappy marriage as an example of how disastrous that can be.  The girlfriend thing, the proposal, was simply Peeta’s need for my permission to move forward.  Without his memory, he would have had no way of deciphering the real from the not real.  So, he looked to me to either confirm or deny before he made any decision that would contradict the stories he’s been told.   Haymitch’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Who knows what’s going on in the boy’s head? All I know is that what’s in there is either incomplete or distorted.  This method of feeding him odd bits of his past hasn’t worked.” He stops his pacing to stand in front of me.  “You have to tell him.  Everything. Hold nothing back.” “No!  No. Absolutely not,” I say in horror. “I told you.  He’s not in love with me.  He told me he’s not.  Hasn’t it been bad enough that I’ve had to watch him with Lace?  That everyone I meet wonders why Peeta dumped me for her? Now you want to add another layer of humiliation. He’ll just tell me it’s her he loves.   Peeta mightn’t have all his memories, but he knows what he feels.  I know him.  He wouldn’t marry unless he had given his whole heart.  He saw how miserable his parents were.”   Haymitch snorts in frustration.  “He wouldn’t if he was thinking straight.  Well, I can’t force you.  But I’m going to do everything in my power to dissuade him.  If you decide to get on board, let me know.” And with that, Haymitch is gone.   I sit awhile, lacking the energy to get up. Maybe, if I stay in this chair, and not move, the world can go on as its always done, while I can just sit here and not have to deal with it.   It takes a concerted effort to rise and trek upstairs to my bedroom to change out of my damp clothes.  From my window, I see white clouds scud across blue skies.  I hear birds chirp, as if in celebration of the coming spring. My eyes drift downwards, to the road outside my house.  Peeta is there, striding jauntily towards the town.  He’s happy.  Shouldn’t that be enough?  But when I lift my hand to my cheek, it comes away wet.   Chapter 19 Before I see Peeta the next day, I work hard at composing myself.  I want to be convincing when I tell him that I’m delighted that he and Lace are to marry. I’d seriously thought of sneaking out of the Village half an hour earlier to avoid him, but then decided it would only delay the inevitable and it was better to get it over and done with.   So here he is, waiting in his usual spot, at the usual time, sporting a bashful smile and, weirdly, sunglasses. It’s eight in the morning and a dull day.   When the usual pleasantries have been exchanged, Peeta, after a nervous cough, announces his engagement to Lace. “There’s going be a toasting. I’ve asked Lace to marry me.” I fix a smile to my face.  If I pretend that I’m in front of a Capitol audience, I can get through this.  It doesn’t have to be real.  People see what they want to see.  “That’s wonderful news!” I gush.  “Congratulations.”   “Thanks,” he says. “I know it’s sudden.   But I feel so good when I’m with her.   And, as you said, we don’t know how much time any of us have, so we should make the most of it.   Besides, how many times does a person get to fall in love?” I should be used to it by now.  But it’s like I’ve been erased.  And it hurts.  “It varies. For most people, more than once,” I say. I don’t think Peeta hears, or if he did, he ignores it, because he continues as if I hadn’t spoken.  “Lace’s family is coming in August, so we’ll have the wedding then.   Her brother and his wife are already here, and there’s a friend in 8 who’ll want to come. So that’s quite a few people from her side.   Not many from mine, though,” he says sadly.  “Delly’s the only childhood friend I still have and she’s in 6.   I want to ask Haymitch to stand for me.  Eight has a tradition where one member from each family welcomes the new member into it.  Haymitch is the closest I have to a father now.”  I don’t remember that tradition at Sateen’s wedding.  Perhaps it was during the speeches.  There were so many that I tuned out on most of them. “I’m sure Haymitch would be happy to,” I say. Haymitch won’t be, but I’m positive he won’t refuse.  He’ll think it’s more important to be there for Peeta than ever, but he’ll be fighting it all the way.   “This is where it gets awkward,” Peeta says. “I know it’s strange with the star-crossed lovers and everything.   And technically you are my ex-fiancée.   But Katniss, I’d love you to be there.  If it’s OK with you, that is.” I can hardly believe my ears.   What, now it gets awkward?  I’ve been living with awkward since he got back to 12.  That horse bolted long ago.  His open affection for Lace, their frequent public appearances, his sidelining of me in preference for her.  He can’t not know this, if he’s worried how their wedding will affect me.  And technically I’m his ex-fiancée?  I was his fiancée, no technically about it.  From some place deep inside, something rises and expands, like yeast in bread dough.  I knew this meeting would take all my self-control to get through it.  But I thought I’d be battling heartbreak. Instead, I’m fighting anger.   “Look,” he continues, “I understand if it would be strange or uncomfortable for you to be there.  I don’t even know if it’s proper to ask you, given how I used to feel about you, even though I don’t remember it.”  Not proper to ask me?  Had he really thought about not inviting me?  I thought we were friends.   “I won’t be offended if you say no, and I only want you to be there if you feel comfortable.   I had to ask you, because if you do feel OK with it, I’d like you to be there.  But either way, you’re still one of my best friends.”   One of his best friends.  Thanks, Peeta.  I swallow hard and force a smile.  “Of course, I’ll be there, Peeta,” I say, as evenly as I can.  “In fact, I can’t wait to dance at your wedding.   And there’s no need to worry about me feeling uncomfortable.  I’m very comfortable with how things have turned out.”   Peeta’s bright smile falters.   I can’t see his eyes because they’re hidden behind his sunglasses.   “Do you mind if I run ahead?” I ask.  “I forgot that I need to be at the school a bit earlier today. Staff meeting.” Before he can answer, I’m halfway down the road.  When I get closer to the town, alternative routes open up, and I take one that Peeta doesn’t use.  My feet slow to a walk, and I take deep breaths to calm myself.   Grr! The arrogance of the man!  To assume that I’m so broken up over our former engagement that I can’t bear to be present at his wedding.  Well, of course I have to be at the wedding.  People will talk even more if I’m not.  But after that I want nothing more to do with him. Or her.  And I’m not leaving the Village either.  They can be the ones to leave if they find it too awkward.  Both of them belong in the town, anyway.   My anger helps sustain me throughout most of the day, preventing any descent into melancholy, but by the time I’ve come home and eaten my dinner, I’m feeling down again.  It really is over then.  I’ve lost the boy with the bread.  My dandelion in the spring.  The boy who said that without me, he’d never be happy again.

The phone rings, jarring me back to the present. It’s Dr Aurelius.  An unusual time to call, since it’s after hours.   Peeta must have called him and told him what happened today.  He’s checking up on me, to make sure I’m OK.  I give my side of it, convinced that Dr Aurelius will disapprove.

“What did you feel?” he asks. I dig around inside myself and find the usual emotions when I think of Peeta.  Longing, sadness, hopelessness, and anger too.   But there’s something else.  Something new. “I felt . . . empowered,” I say, finally finding the right word.   What I said to Peeta wasn’t the truth, but I’m determined that it will be.  And what’s more I said it to him.   It was me declaring my independence.   And it felt good.  Really good.

“Maybe that’s something to think about, going forward,” he says. 

Dr Aurelius’ words stay with me over the following days. It occurs to me that perhaps this is what he’s had me working towards with Peeta.  To come to a place where I can be at peace with how things are and even see it as a positive thing in my life.  And, I have to admit, Peeta’s not the boy I fell in love with.  Something has been lost along with his memories.  A certain perceptiveness and sensitivity.  Well, when it comes to me, at least. Haymitch isn’t happy with me.  Peeta told him of my reaction to his upcoming nuptials. “I’m trying to get him to see that he’s doing the wrong thing, and you’re telling him you can’t wait to do the funky chicken at his wedding.” “I did not say that!  I said – “ Haymitch ignores me.  “He’s had a relapse.  He’s right back to how he was.  Worse.  At least then he approached everything with caution.  Now he’s rushing headlong into this thing as if his life depends on it.”   He looks at me accusingly.  “Did you know he’s booked the ballroom at the Town Hall?”  That’s where the Mayor’s party was held.  Maybe he wants to sneak off with Lace during the reception for a bit of post-wedding sex. “It will cost him a fortune.  And this girl seems to be encouraging him, as if he’s a bottomless pit of money.  He’s paying for every one of her relatives to come out too.” To be fair to Lace, the Capitol did exaggerate how wealthy Victors were.  But in fact, we got enough money to keep up appearances, but not so much that we could accrue large sums of it.  If what Haymitch says is true, then what Peeta has planned, will wipe out most, if not all, of his savings.

I run into Lace a few days later.   I’m on my way out of the Village when I hear her call my name.  There’s no way to avoid her.   She probably wants to gloat.  I school my face into an impassive mask and wait until she catches up to me.   “Katniss!  I’m so glad I caught you,” she says, clutching a hand to her chest.  It takes a few moments for her to catch her breath.  “I’ve been wanting to thank you.” I frown in confusion. “For what?” Lace beams at me. “For agreeing to be in the wedding.  Peeta was afraid you’d find it too awkward.  You know, with your past together as the star-crossed lovers.” She slips her arm through mine and I fight the temptation to throw it off.   “I’m so glad he did ask you and you agreed to come.  It means so much to him.  He holds you in such high regard.” 

High regard?  Is that what Peeta feels for me now?  High regard is respect and admiration, but it’s not affection or friendship.  I guess I should have expected it.  There’s been a steady downward progression, from love object to a “one of” friend to – what is it now? – a national monument? 

I take a hard look at the woman who’s clutching my arm. She’s smiling her girlish smile, and laughing her pearly laugh.   She’s very friendly all of a sudden.  She’s never come across as sincere to me, and she doesn’t now. There’s more to it than relief that I’m no longer a threat.   This is just too much, too soon.  She’s rubbing it in.  Even to repeating Peeta’s words that I’d find it too awkward.   They’ve both been carrying on in front of me for months and they didn’t care then.  You’d almost think they were hoping it would be, they love talking about it so much.  

I can do two things.  I can go along with it, and keep my true thoughts to myself, as I have mostly done so far.  Or I can take control.  Like I did with Peeta earlier in the week.

I hug her arm to my side and place my free hand over hers.  “Of course, I’ll be there,” I say, as if the alternative is just too ridiculous to contemplate.  “To be honest, it didn’t even occur to me that it might be awkward until Peeta mentioned it.  I just hope it’s not awkward for him.  Or for you.” Her smile slips a little.  I lean in closer, and lower my voice, as we if are girlfriends sharing a secret.   “People got very emotionally attached to the star-crossed lovers.  Some might not take it well, especially if they see you as having broken us up.  You know how people love to talk, and throw around blame.  They’ll probably hate Peeta too.  But I’m sure you’ll cope.  After all, it’s nothing you haven’t faced before, Tilly.” Lace tries to pull away but I tighten my hold to prevent her escape.  “You see, you need me to be seen at your wedding having a good time.  Because any hint that I’m heartbroken over it, like staying away, will make people hate you even more.   And I know what happened in 8 and who you really are.  But don’t worry, I’ve no intention of exposing you. It’s really no one’s business. But it is Peeta’s, and if you don’t tell him soon, I will.” She pulls harder this time and I loosen my grip.  I’ve said almost everything I want to say.  She stands a few feet away, her bright mahogany hair emphasizing her pallor, and two spots of anger rouging her cheeks. “One last word of advice,” I continue. “We Victors aren’t as rich as the Capitol had everyone believe.  So, unless you want to start married life with nothing left in the kitty, I suggest you try to curtail Peeta’s spending on this wedding.  Bakers don’t earn much, you know.  And there’s talk of stopping our pension.”  There isn’t really, but the opportunity to wind up Lace even more is too good to pass up.    I’ve felt powerless for so long.  It feels so good to take some of it back. I give her my best fake smile.  The one I perfected for the Capitol.  “Well, have a nice day.  I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.  Afterall, we’re going to be neighbours!” And leaving her with that cheery thought, I turn my back and head out for the town.   I want to punch the air in triumph, but it’s not long before the euphoria of victory fades.  There’s no getting away from it.  Lace is the real winner.  She’s got Peeta.   Max is already at the pub when I get there. It’s become a regular Saturday night outing.  Sometimes Moira or Milo join us, but most often they don’t, so it’s just Max and me and anyone we get talking to.  Lately, Arthur meets us here too.  I’ve decided to take him under my wing and make sure he gets out regularly.  I think Sateen would like it, and without her watchful eye, I’m more comfortable in his company now.  I feel a little guilty too. Without my interference, this wedding might not be happening.  I’ve ruined Arthur’s chances as well as my own.  But then, maybe they never existed in the first place.  Arthur seems to think so.  He took the news with magnanimity, as if he were expecting it.   Max, with his gregarious personality, has also managed to draw Arthur out more, and we discover that there’s more to him than just business.  He’s a great reader and can speak on a wide range of subjects.  He likes puzzles of all kinds, especially ones that involve piecing things together.  Maybe that’s why he’s so good at tailoring.  But most surprising of all, we discover that he’s an avid fan of “One Life to Live.”   Of course, Max has to scoff.  “That rubbish?  I don’t know how anyone with more than half a brain can stand to watch it.  I mean, who came up with the stupid idea of oil barons? There’s no oil drilling in 5. It’s all hydro and wind turbines. As for fraternizing between the districts, there was a great solid wall between 5 and 11.  You couldn’t even smuggle a banana through it.  And that they spent their free time attending balls and going to the theatre?” He gives his head a shake in disbelief. “Fuck, those fools in the Capitol would believe anything.” “You seem to know a lot about it for someone who doesn’t watch it,” I point out. Max is taken aback for a moment.  “Moira watches it.  I can’t help it if I happen to be in the room at the same time.”

“I actually find it a fascinating insight into the Capitol psyche.” says Arthur, as he puts down his drink.  He leans forward with the same intent expression he gets when he’s about to explain the complexities of factory management.  I think we’re in for a lecture. 

“So, what do think of the characters?” I say quickly to distract him.  “That Ginger’s a real bitch.”   “I think Ginger’s misunderstood,” says Arthur. “She’s seen as the villain because she appears to stand between Celia and Blake, when in actuality the only thing keeping them apart are themselves.  In fact, in some ways she’s a victim.” “How do you figure that?”  I ask.  As far as I can see, Ginger is in for what she can get.  She’s even so low as to pretend the baby she’s carrying is Blake’s.

“Because Blake is using her for validation and as a substitute for Celia.  He’s not really in love with her, even though he might tell himself that he is.  His self-image is of a man who’d be too honourable to use a woman like that.  His name isn’t Knight for nothing.” “But it’s not like it’s not mutual,” I argue. “Isn’t Ginger using him too?  She wants him for his status and his connections. And she’s not even faithful to him. Not that I have a high opinion of Blake, either.  He tells Celia he loves her and then look how he shows it.  No wonder Celia is a mess and finds it hard to trust men.  They could all turn out like Blake, for all she knows.  One minute declaring undying love, the next getting it on with the town floozie.” “Floozie?” laughs Max.  “I didn’t think anyone still used that word.  Look, Celia told him she wasn’t in love with him, so what was he to do?  Be a hermit for the rest of his life?  It’s really her own fault.” “It is not!” I say hotly.  “She was confused.  She was an innocent young girl with no experience at that sort of thing. Blake caught her unawares.  And she broke it off for him.  His parents would never have allowed it.  The Knights hate the Chastleys.” “Well, how was he to know?  And what’s he supposed to think with all those men hanging around?  From his point of view, she’s moved on.” “But she hasn’t slept with any of them.  None of them have touched her heart like he has. And he . . . he’s about to get married. He just gave up on her.  He could have given it another try, at least.  He didn’t stop once to consider why she did it.”   I don’t know why, but I’m on the verge of tears.  I take a gulp of my drink in an attempt to cover it up. Max leans back in his chair and regards me quizzically over his glass.   I don’t like the way he’s looking at me.  As if knows something that I don’t.   “He’s not a mind reader.  And she doesn’t act like she’s in love with him.  Not when she’s around him, anyway.” “How can she?  When he’s got a girlfriend that he flaunts in front of her at every opportunity?  She’s trying to do the right thing, by letting him go.   And anyway, how could she ever feel the same way about him, now that he’s been with Ginger?” “She can’t.” says Arthur quietly.  I’d forgotten he was here.  “It changes their relationship irrevocably.  If they do get back together, it must be as two different people.”

“I don’t think they can get back together.  Not unless he breaks up with Ginger.  Celia won’t say anything while he’s with her.  I know I wouldn’t,” I say. “Celia just needs a good fuck,” says Max. I fix him with a steely look. “What? It’s obvious, isn’t it?  What’s Celia done but mope around the place, rejecting every man that shows an interest in her?  As far as she knows, it’s over with Blake.  And her reasons for breaking with him are still valid. So why not get on with her life? Blake did.”

“Blake’s not happy.  Not really.  I can’t say that “getting on with it” has done him much good,” I say.

“No, but at least he’s tried another relationship, even if it is doomed to fail.  Celia needs to do the same.  Look, as far as she knows, Blake is happy with Ginger, right?  So she’s achieved her goal.  And, if by some miracle, they do get back together, at least they’ll bring the same amount of experience to it.   Otherwise he’ll always be the one who broke faith, and she’ll be the one who didn’t try her wings when she had the chance.”

“I don’t know.  I think if you’re going to get involved with someone, it shouldn’t be to get over someone else.  That’s what Blake’s done.  Arthur, what do you think?”

Arthur blinks, as if he’s surprised to be asked, but he gives a considered response as he always does. “I think Celia should do whatever feels right.   And she may not know what that is until the moment strikes.”

“Be adaptable, in other words.  Be open to possibilities,” I say. 

Arthur nods.  “Yes,” he says. “Something like that.”  He gazes pensively into his glass of red wine.  I wonder if this talk has reminded him of Lace, and that this is advice he gives to himself.   In this moment, I resolve to help Arthur find those possibilities.  It’s the least I can do.  

[strikecommanding]

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“You seem to be doing well, Gabriel.”

Reaper tossed a glare over his shoulder, though most of his face was obscured by the shadow cast by his hood. Then, deciding it would be more of a headache to try to dismiss Moira rather than at least humor her, he murmured, “That’s an odd thing to say to someone you’re patching up.”

Moira let out a humorless laugh, not taking her eyes off of his pale, wispy bicep as she wrapped bandages around a large wound. Sometimes, even advanced cellular regeneration wasn’t adequate in dealing with some of the injuries he received. “The reckless things you do on a regular basis would be sure suicide for a normal person, or even a super soldier. That you’re not only alive but also barely scathed is a product of my genetic work. You’ve taken well to it. Or should I say, it’s taken well to you?”

The reminder of how he’d become this way put Reaper in a sour mood, more so than usual. Once Moira was finished, he snatched his arm back from her and tugged his gloves back on, storming out of the room without another word.

Moira was a fairly recent addition to Talon, one to whom Reaper had yet to become fully acclimated. He hadn’t seen her since before Overwatch’s fall, when she turned him into this… thing. By now, he was beyond demanding a cure from her; when confronted, she would only say that the work she did in the past was only possible due to resources she no longer had. But he never missed that subtle, sinister glint in her eyes whenever they crossed paths. She always seemed to be looking at him like he was a specimen on a tray.

In short, he didn’t trust her. She could be trusted when it came to work; she wasn’t so stupid to risk the team’s lives on the field, and with them, her own life. On a long-term basis, however, he wasn’t too keen on letting her continue to patch him up so she could leer at him the way she did.

He needed a personal medic, one whom he could count on to not bring about his own destruction. When he had off-time between missions, he found himself staking out a rundown hospital in a small, isolated town. Relative to the business it saw as the only one of its kind for miles, it was severely understaffed. Reaper vaguely entertained the idea of contributing to that problem by snatching up one of its nurses or doctors for his own purposes. Anyone would be better than Moira.

He started slow with simple observation, only ever visiting the hospital at night and slinking through the shadows to look over the workers like they were items in a catalogue. They all seemed as miserable as their surroundings, and then he got an eyeful of you.

You looked young, fresh out of medical school and straight into your first full-time job. Some luck of the draw for it to be in this shithole. As if in direct contrast to your surroundings, your face was always bright with a soft, gentle smile, one you flashed to every patient and doctor with whom you interacted. It was clear in your demeanor that you only ever wanted to help, and that perhaps you wouldn’t deflate as easily as some of your more veteran co-workers. It wouldn’t be easy to break your spirit.

That was fine. You didn’t need to be broken, just easy to control.

He would come back on subsequent nights to watch you, and he quickly learned that your passion for the job was yards ahead of your actual ability. You weren’t exactly incompetent, but it was painfully obvious that this was all new to you. Not quite ready yet to jump right away at the beck and call of every doctor who needed you, or to respond efficiently to every high pressure situation. What he first perceived in you as an unceasing sense of altruism was only a partial truth; your eagerness to please stemmed from a deep desire for praise and validation, neither of which you seemed to receive very often. If all it took was a little token of praise to get you to do his bidding, then you were one hell of an exploitable resource.

Reaper couldn’t be hasty, however. Even if he could keep you on a tight leash, you had to be proficient. The last thing he wanted was to waste his time on a medic who couldn’t even do her job. If you couldn’t prove that you’d be worth the investment, he’d just have to carry on his search elsewhere. But he was already so drawn to you both by the ease with which he could control you and some force to which he couldn’t put a name, so part of him sincerely hoped that you wouldn’t disappoint.

He didn’t have the patience to wait for trouble to come to you on its own, so he elected to take matters into his own hands. That poor fuck just outside of the hospital was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and it was all too easy for Reaper to reach out to him under the cover of night and rough him up a bit. Not enough to kill him immediately, but just enough to be fatal if someone didn’t help him quick. Once he was finished, he dumped the bastard just outside the hospital doors where you would surely see him.

That night, the hospital had even less hands on deck than usual. Newbie though you were, you were the veteran tonight, since many of your more senior co-workers had either been transferred to busier floors or simply hadn’t come in at all. You jolted when you first noticed the beaten and battered man lying just outside, and Reaper half-expected you to freeze up in your tracks. He hoped you wouldn’t.

You didn’t. Though this was your first time seeing that level of gore since you started working here, you were still trained to respond to emergencies. You hadn’t been the quickest about doing that when Reaper first began watching you, but you seemed determined to turn it all around now. You flew into action immediately by wheeling over a gurney to place the patient on and quickly transported him to the trauma bay. It was a bit difficult to follow you in there considering how few shadows there were in which to hide, but he doubted you’d even notice him with your full attention on the patient.

You were the only nurse among a number of doctors all clamoring over the patient, all of whom had their own separate duties to determine the best course of action to go about next. The pressure was truly on as you alone had to handle a job that typically belonged to a team, a team that currently wasn’t here. But maybe this was exactly the right amount of pressure you needed to flourish, as you quickly and efficiently stabilized the patient’s vitals, gathered the necessary meds, and prepped him for surgery. You went with the doctors into an operating theater, but Reaper didn’t follow you there. Instead, he remained outside, waiting patiently to find out whether or not your first high-stress emergency case would end in success.

It took just over six hours, but Reaper watched you leave the ER looking more fatigued than when you’d first walked in. You had to leap into action right from a dead night, after all. You looked tired but ultimately satisfied as you exited alongside a doctor, likely the surgeon you’d assisted, and Reaper crept in just the slightest bit to hear what the two of you were saying.

“Well that was,” the doctor sighed, “exciting. More excitement than this hospital has seen in a while.”

You smiled up at him. “You did great, Doctor. Everything went smoothly.”

He returned the gesture, and seeing the way you both looked at each other made Reaper sneer. “Give yourself some credit. If you hadn’t acted as quickly as you did, who knows if he would have even made it to the table.”

When you looked up with those starry eyes and a hint of pink dusting your cheeks, Reaper’s sneer quickly became a scowl. He knew that praise as simple as that was all it took to make you light up, but that was something he alone felt entitled to exploiting. Oblivious to it all, you simply answered, “You flatter me, sir.”

“I mean it. You did a good job in there,” the doctor insisted, and, as if to drive the point home, he rested his palm atop your head. You avoided eye contact with him, but Reaper didn’t miss the way both your smile and your blush grew deeper. “You’re good at what you do, and your talent might be wasting away in a dump like this. Have you considered requesting a transfer to our parent branch up in the city? You might be better off there.”

The mention of transferring seemed to break you out of your blushing schoolgirl daze, and the look in your eyes suggested that you were pondering his suggestion. “Really, I’m just happy to be of help anywhere…”

He smiled at you again with an added emotion to which Reaper couldn’t quite put a name, but he did know that it made him mad. “You’re sweet, but sweetness alone won’t get you far. Go home for today, and contact me if you’re at all interested in what I said.”

He left you, and you stood there alone with a pensive expression. Reaper watched that expression slowly become an endearingly goofy little grin as you went off to collect your belongings from your station, murmuring to yourself, “He called me sweet.”

Something happened, something that Reaper couldn’t quite explain, but it made his decision for him. The doctor was right: you were being wasted on a place like this. If you wanted to help out where you could, he knew of a place where you’d be of use to something far greater than a sleazy doctor who looked at you the wrong way. As he followed you out to your car in an isolated corner of the lot, Reaper had a feeling he was being influenced by something other than his desire for a personal medic. But again, it was something that was better off unnamed.

---

The feeling of your small, bound form trembling over his shoulder was impossible to ignore as Reaper carried you through Talon headquarters. It might as well have been below freezing with the way you were shaking, but he knew better than to think the temperature was the cause. You were scared stiff from being abruptly swept away by a stranger. It would be hard in the beginning, but he was sure you’d come to adjust to life with him. If not from actual comfort, then you would at least learn to settle for the sake of survival.

You sniffled instead of sobbed, likely because your tears were all dried up by now. “Who are you?”

Reaper said nothing and focused solely on bringing you to a private room. On his way, he ran into none other than his annoying pest of a teammate, Sombra. She was at the end of the hall and showed no signs of moving, and the inquisitive quirk of her brow and her lips informed him that she wouldn’t make it easy for him to get past her. When he tried to sidestep her, she just perked up and questioned, “Whatcha got there, Gabe? A pet?”

He hefted you over his shoulder, almost defensively, as Sombra circled around to get a better look at you. Your eyes were covered and your mouth gagged, leaving only your tear-drenched cheeks exposed for her prying stare. You jolted when she abruptly poked the tip of your nose with her sharply manicured finger, and she got a good laugh out of it. Shifting you again and inadvertently getting another rise out of you, Reaper murmured, “More like… an asset.”

“Oh?” The inquisitive look on her face quickly became a suggestive one, and he took that as his cue to leave. Thankfully, Sombra decided to leave him be, but he knew he hadn’t heard the last of this matter from his nosy underling. He would deal with that when he needed to; right now, he just wanted to take you somewhere secure where few people other than himself had access to.

Stepping in and locking the door behind him, he finally let you go, and you fell with a muffled cry and an unceremonious thud. But you didn’t dare move, even as he crouched over you to rid you of your blindfold and gag. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, allowing the tears to flow freely over your cheeks, red from exertion. You flinched when he suddenly raised a hand to you and lightly dragged the tips of his claw over your skin. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

You were hesitant to obey him at first, but it seemed your survival instincts won out when you felt the drag of his claws wiping tears away just beneath your eyes. The stars that practically lined your irises when you were looking up at that doctor were gone now, snuffed out by your fear at being taken by an unknown man. Now, your eyes shone only with brimming tears.

Reaper continued stroking your cheek, waiting for you to stop trembling. When you finally stilled, you were stiff, not relaxed. Regardless, he asked you, “Do you know why you’re here?”

You stared up at him like you were trying to find his eyes behind the impenetrable blackness of his mask’s sockets. When your search predictably came up empty, your cautiously looked around the room in an effort to assess your surroundings and figure out where you were. Obviously, nothing was familiar, and he could see you come to that conclusion by your dim stare. You slowly shook your head no.

The very tips of his claws stroked gently along your jawline, and he could feel your breath catch in your throat. You were starting to tremble again, so he took firm hold of your chin and angled you up to look at him. Behind his mask, he wore a crooked parody of a smile. “It’s because you’re very good at what you do.”

---

You couldn’t adjust right away. Of course, Reaper didn’t expect you to immediately take to being kidnapped by a wanted terrorist and mercenary who was more monster than man, for no reason other than to serve as his personal nurse. But he didn’t care about whether or not you wanted to do it; you just had to do it. You knew this as well, and since you wanted to survive, you did what you were told.

In exchange for your swift and efficient fixes to every minor bump or bruise he received on a mission, he treated you well. He made sure you were fed and taken care of, and you were allowed access to anything on base that would keep you entertained, barring weapons or communication devices. You were an asset, after all, not necessarily a prisoner.

Perhaps you could sense that Reaper didn’t mean you any harm, direct or indirect, as you slowly became more comfortable around him. At first, simply being in his presence would render you a spineless, voiceless shell of the person you used to be, and it was obvious that your every action was solely influenced by the will to stay alive. But after months of aiding him, of being in close quarters with him without so much as him raising a hand to you, you seemed to be able to relax. This was most obvious when you started talking to him during his post-mission visits.

Reaper blew into your room, the majority of his composition smoke rather than flesh for the sake of mobility. He grounded himself firmly in front of you as you sat on the edge of your bed, setting aside your book now that something much worthier of your attention had appeared. Already used to the routine, you went to fetch your medkit while he began undressing. He shucked his longcoat to the floor, pointedly keeping the mask on, and removed just as much clothing as was necessary for you to be able to access his wound. It was a long, deep gash that cut along both shoulder blades. The ninja, his own former underling, had literally stabbed him in the back.

He sat on the edge of the bed and felt it sink slightly beneath your weight as you crawled up behind him. Your wide-eyed stare was painfully obvious, and he didn’t even need to turn around to confirm it. Instead, he counted down in his head to when you would start speaking to him. “What happened today?”

He was just about half a second too slow. You were getting bolder everyday, talking more, and more frequently as well. “Visited some old friends.”

The chill of your damp washcloth as it dragged against his skin and soaked up all the blood was bracing, and the sting of the disinfectant that shortly followed was comparatively lesser. “What kind of friend does this?”

Turning his head this way and that, he rolled the kinks out of his neck and let out a deep sigh. The reflection of his mask was vaguely visible in the ends of his shotgun shells, abandoned on the floor. “The kind that I let down.”

You were quiet after that, and Reaper thought that might have killed the conversation for good. He didn’t tell you much about his past, and even less about his condition, but what little he did reveal to you included his involvement with a black ops division of a military organization. Downplayed, of course, so you wouldn’t come to the right conclusion that that organization was Overwatch. You spoke up again, but softer, “Did they used to work with you too?”

“...Yeah.”

It was only then that you stopped talking, like you could sense that he wasn’t willing to broach the topic any further. Though it wasn’t something he would ever openly admit to himself, he appreciated that you knew when you were allowed to probe and when you should hold back. You were considerate, even towards your own kidnapper, and it only emphasized what Reaper already knew: you were sweet. Even after all this time spent with a man as rotten as him, your big heart never eroded or decayed. Sometimes he felt guilty keeping it locked up all to himself, but he believed no one else had the right to it. But then that begged the question: what did he do to deserve the right to your kind heart, other than be the scumbag who kidnapped you? Once he found himself falling down that rabbit hole, he shut the thought out violently and tried to think of you as a medic, and nothing more.

Reaper’s thoughts were fortuitously disturbed by an outside force, which was the feeling of your delicate fingertips lightly pinching the skin of his bicep. He turned slightly, tossing you a vaguely curious look beneath his mask, but that only prompted you to pinch him harder. It didn’t hurt, but he decided to humor you. “Ow.”

You leaned back and returned your attention to the wound on his back, an odd, dry smile playing on your lips. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen a genuine smile on your face since the night he took you away. “That’s for going out and being reckless again.”

He let out a curt exhale, his version of a laugh. “It’s in my job description. Yours is to patch me up so I can go back out and do it all over again.”

“Well,” you replied, voice lilted with amusement, “if it keeps you coming back. It’s lonely when you’re not around.”

The shift in the atmosphere was distinct after you said that, like you’d revealed something you didn’t mean to. That suspicion was confirmed immediately by the soft gasp you emitted, surprised at yourself for speaking so candidly. But, since you respected Reaper’s privacy, he respected yours by not pressing you further. He simply sat in silence while you stiffly stitched him up and treated any other wounds he might have suffered. Once you were finished, you let him know with a gentle pat against the base of his neck, prompting him to stand and redress. He glanced at you while he did so, only to find that you were too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

Words failed him now, but even if they hadn’t, what was he supposed to say to that? At the same time, he felt like leaving on that note would have offered you no relief, so he had to do something. Ultimately, he defused the situation by raising a gentle hand to the top of your head. You stiffened just the slightest bit until he began smoothing your hair down, at which point you relaxed significantly. Reaper stayed with you like this for just a moment before abruptly leaving the room with plumes of smoke billowing behind him. At first, he tried to deny he’d seen it, but he spent the rest of the day thinking about the fact that being touched by him made you genuinely smile for the first time in months.

---

Of all people to run into, it had to be the fucking soldier. Morrison was undoubtedly the highest name on Reaper’s hit list, but he was the last person he’d wanted to see after he was already wounded from a prior engagement. Moira’s healing sustained him long enough to get away, but now that he was back on familiar ground, he needed a more permanent fix.

He crashed into your room without much regard for grace, as he immediately hit the ground once he made it through the door. This prompted you to scramble towards him and try to help him to his feet, which was something he could barely do in his current state. You were also asking him far too many questions about what happened, where he’d been, who’d done this, all in such rapid succession it made his head spin. So he silenced you with a very decisive fist against the wall, hard enough to leave a small crater in its wake. You jolted at first and then became deathly still when he gritted out, “Fucking fix me.”

Without so much as breathing a word, you nodded and hurried him over to the bed so he could lie down. You got your medkit together and began undressing him yourself, searching everywhere for his injuries since he was in too much pain to tell you. Reaper was riddled with bullet wounds, barring the helix rockets Morrison shot directly into his shoulder. He was lucky to have moved the right way at just the right time, or else those rockets would have been lodged in his heart.

You worked in very tense silence to fish out every individual bullet with a pair of forceps. Your hands were steady, but you couldn’t hide the sweat beading at your furrowed brows as you tried to work quickly and efficiently. By now, Reaper had no qualms giving you access to more advanced healthcare items than you’d known in the hospital, one of which was an experimental biotic field not unlike the ones Morrison carried around. You’d activated one immediately before you began working, alleviating Reaper’s pain just a bit. What he really needed you to do now was dig those rockets out of his flesh.

You seemed to know this too, as your eyes immediately fell on his large shoulder wound once you were finished cleaning up the smaller ones. The rockets weren’t huge, but they also weren’t so small that pulling them out would be as painless as pulling out a regular bullet. He could see the apology in your eyes as you gripped the base of the first rocket and swiftly pulled it out, like ripping a bandage. Reaper let out a grunt at the sensation, and he was fisting the sheets hard enough to tear them once you pulled out the second one. Thankfully, the worst was over now, and you moved in to clean the gaping holes they’d left in his shoulder. But something stopped you, and Reaper turned to see his cells already getting to work on rebuilding the flesh that was once there.

Because his body was focused on that one area, it was up to you to clean up the rest. You did so quietly, bandaging the smaller wounds and stitching up where bullets had overlapped. Reaper was feeling better already, partially due to the biotic field and largely due to your presence beside him. He watched you work from behind his mask until giving in to his impulse to look at you unobscured for the first time.

You were just finishing up the last stitch when he sat up abruptly, and he could see you getting ready to tell him to lie back down. But you were stunned into silence when he reached up and ripped off his mask, as he’d never revealed his face to you before. He didn’t give you much time to take in his features, instead choosing to pull you in for a deep, long-awaited kiss. You were stiff in his arms, like you didn’t know how to react, so he set the pace for you. He held you close and tight, most definitely staining your clothes with any blood that wasn’t completely cleaned off of his torso. That wasn’t an issue for long, as he deftly undressed you until you were wearing even less than him.

If you were at all opposed to being touched by him like this, it wasn’t evident in your body language. You were clinging to him like your life depended on it; Reaper supposed this was what happened when you were ripped from your old life with only a man like him to call your companion for several months. The way you held him made him feel like someone you genuinely cared about and not just a quick fix for your loneliness and hunger for affection, and he wanted to make that feeling last for as long as he possibly could.

When Reaper pulled his lips away from yours, you tried to follow him, like you still hadn’t had enough of him. Instead, he kissed down your jaw, your pulse line, and then square between your breasts, licking and sucking hard enough to leave angry red marks in his wake. Still clothed from the waist down, he thrust upward and ground his clothed crotch against your pussy. Your heat was apparent even through the fabric, and he began undoing his belt in a hurry. Then you intervened with a gentle hand against his, murmuring, “You’re hurt. Just sit back, and let me handle everything.”

Reaper was too full of impulses and adrenaline to sit back as you’d instructed, but he wanted to see you take charge. He watched you pull his hard, leaking cock from his pants and begin rubbing yourself up against him, and you were already so wet that you hardly needed any prep. You sat yourself down on him and took him in in one go, hardly needing a pause to become acclimated. It was a testament to just how touch-starved you’d been, and Reaper tried to make up for that lost time by thrusting up as harshly as you’d let him. “Good girl.”

You just whined in reply and rode him harder as your hands awkwardly tried to find purchase on a spot on his torso that wasn’t covered in bandages or stitches. In the meantime, he grabbed your waist and pulled you harder and tighter against him, wanting you to be able to feel the passion for you that he’d kept bottled up all this time. Even this position was stifling, as he felt it didn’t allow him to fully express just how badly he wanted you, how badly he needed you.

So, despite your wishes for him to remain passive, he flipped your positions so that you were lying on your back and he was the one on top. One hand held your waist down for him while the other was on your neck, tracing the bites he’d already left and idly squeezing every once in a while. It was never enough to hurt you, but it took your breath away and made you tighten around him. You made him feel alive, and it made him want to rough you up just a bit more than you could take. “Fuck! That’s it, good girl, sweet fucking girl-”

Reaper interrupted himself by leaning down and claiming your lips once again, nipping at you more than actually kissing you. But you didn’t complain, instead reaching behind him to drag your nails down the uninjured portions of his back. This spurred him on and encouraged him to continue biting and marking your skin, specifically around your chest and neck. Only when he moved in to kiss your throat did he realize he was still gripping it tight enough to leave one big hand-shaped bruise. The sight of his marks littering your otherwise unmarred skin was just enough to bring him over the edge, and he pulled out to release on your stomach and heaving chest.

Once the high of his climax faded, he was left with the dull, thudding ache of overexertion that struck him just about everywhere. You must have sensed what he was feeling, as you scooted over just enough to give him room to lie down. He took your offer, but only after reaching into your medkit for a clean rag to wipe off your torso. Then, once he settled next to you, his uninjured hand reached between your legs and made sure you finished too.

You gasped, as if you weren’t expecting him to tend to your needs too, and he felt sufficiently insulted to make sure you experienced the best orgasm you’d ever had. His ring and middle fingers sank in deep and stroked your walls while his thumb deftly and persistently flicked over your swollen clit. The motion easily turned you to putty in his hand, and you turned to curl up against him while keeping your legs wide open. In moving, you’d exposed to him a bit of flesh on your shoulder that had yet to be touched, and he couldn’t resist moving in to leave a soft bite.

That seemed to boost you forward towards that steadily building peak, and you came with a sharp cry and your fist in his hair. You trembled against him as the last waves of euphoria ebbed away, allowing you to finally fall limp in his arms. Even after lying down, Reaper’s heart was still racing, and he suspected that was a product of just having you like this after months of denying everything he felt for you. He brushed your hair out of your eyes and you looked up at him with those starry eyes that made his heart skip a beat. “...Sorry for the marks.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head, that familiar bashful blush spilling all over your cheeks. “I don’t mind. Something to remember you by while you’re gone.”

Hearing you say that made Reaper truly recognize the value you had beyond being a medic, and his grip on you became tighter because of it. “I’m not leaving for a while.”

[peachesandsodas]

Le papillon (ballerina!oc x photographer!kihyun) - 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | word count : 2519

“ You know how it feels like? When those butterflies decided to flutter inside you and your heart starts to beats fast? I never felt those before-- but-- it feels nice. It’s warm, and comforting. “

listen to this while reading

Sun light peeks in through the gaps of white, linen curtain, and the sound of rustling branches slowly wakes Jooyeon up. Her eyelids flutters awake and a faint groan escaped from her lips as she stretches her limbs on the bed. Pushing herself up, sitting straight and her eyes landed on the clock, sitting nicely on the night table next to her bed.

06:45am

Good, still have some time to get proper breakfast before I'm out, she thought. Jooyeon walked out from her bedroom, greeted by a smell of earl grey tea brewing in the kettle pot, and her mother cutting some fruits on the kitchen counter. "Good morning, my little princess." Her mom greeted with a warm smile. Jooyeon smiled shyly, approaching the island bar and took a seat on the stool. "Mom, don't call me that.. I'm already 23 years old.." Jooyeon replied yet smile still painted on her sleepy face, tying her long maple-coloured hair into a messy bun. "23 or 50, you're still my little princess." Her mom chuckled softly, handing a plate of well cut fruits to Jooyeon and a cup of peach yoghurt topped with granolas for her breakfast. "I heard the audition for the upcoming concert is today?" Her mother asked, Jooyeon is busy with her yoghurt so she replied with a nod. "Hopefully the audition goes well, hmm? I know you've been waiting for this moment to come."

It's been years since she joined the SRBA (Seoul Royal Ballet Academy), she started her ballet journey at such young age and it leads to where she is right now. She jumbled between school and ballet, until she graduated college then she start being a ballerina full time. It is a tough job, 6 days a week with 9 to 10 hours of schedule in the Academy. Being the resident company dancer has been tough, tons of auditions, exams, and hitting the 3 year mark in the Academy put a little bit pressure on Jooyeon's shoulders as she is known as one of the dancers who is a strong candidate as a principal dancer in the Academy. So, she has to make sure she nailed this audition after years of dedicating her time to rigorous trainings.

"I will do my best in the audition, okay?" Jooyeon replied, this time with a smile as bright as the spring sun and giving her mother a highfive.

- - -

07:53am

"Yo. Kihyun. Got the camera ready? We have to leave soon and get to the Academy."

Kihyun quickly walked out from the studio's office, fingers busy tapping onto his phone screen, replying some messages regarding to his upcoming solo exhibition, which will follow through after the ballet concert project that he got in the first place. "It's settled near the sofa in the lobby. I thought Minhyuk already told you, Hyungwon?" Furrowing his brows yet his eyes never left the phone screen. The tall lad who called Kihyun just before, Hyungwon, shrugged his shoulders, "Nope, he didn't told me that things are in place, he just went out to get some coffee." He said, passing by Kihyun who's still busy with his phone and walked out from the studio. "Yah. I think your hand got some superglue or something, that phone never left you since last night." Hyungwon teased before he disappears to the studio's lobby.

(kakao)Kihyun: Hyung, make sure the Academy will sponsor the exhibition.

(kakao)Hyunwoo: I'm discussing it with Hoseok right now, we'll make sure it will happen, okay? Just need some talking and more sweet-talking with the board members before we could sign off the papers.

(kakao)Hyunwoo: But for now, make sure we give our best to their project first.

(kakao)Kihyun: No worries. See you tonight.

Kihyun slipped his phone to his pants pocket, rushing to the lobby and get his camera gear along. Heading to the Academy with the help of Hyungwoon and Minhyuk (who's now hands are full with coffees and pastries).

It took him years to finally be able to set up his own photography studio, alongside with a great team consists of his college friends. Kihyun being the founder of KH-Visuals working as the resident's head photographer; Hyungwon and Minhyuk both are his college friends majoring in Photography and Hyunwoo, Hoseok working as the agency's admins helping out their fellow friend to manage all the schedules, clients, projects, and everything behind the scenes. Thanks to Hyunwoo's connection to the performing arts circle, they landed a project with Seoul Royal Ballet Academy to photograph behind the scenes of the upcoming concert, in vice versa, the Academy will provide sponsorship to Kihyun's first solo exhibition.

He hopped into the car and took a seat behind Hyungwon who already called shotgun, while he put some faith in Minhyuk to drive, heading straight to the Academy in this bright morning.

- - -

08:16am

"Oh my gosh, it's audition day."

"I'm nervous."

"Who do you think will be chosen this time?"

"I don't know, I heard there are so many strong candidates this year."

"I think it has to be Jooyeon, she's been auditioning since day 1 and this has to be her moment."

"What title are we going to bring to this concert?"

"I heard it's an original play from the Academy?"

"Let's just do our best."

"Oh she's here."

Jooyeon entered the Academy halls, and the whole resident dancers' eyes are now landed on her, yet she shrugged it off. "Good morning, Jooyeon, ready for the audition?" One of the younger resident asked, Jooyeon simply smiled and nodded at her. "Just gonna do my best, and let the board members decide." She said, heading straight to the studio she always use for warming up and some lone time. "Yeonie! Hey, wait up!" A female voice heard behind her, and tugged onto jooyeon's white knitted sweater that covers her black leotard. "Heejin? Hey! You're back from the Russia exchange?" Jooyeon pulled her long-time-no-see friend into a tight hug, almost crashing Heejin's lungs. "T-too tight.. Yeonie--" Heejin tapped Jooyeon's back and a hearty laugh heard from both of them. "Damn, I miss you so much. Oh hello, soon-to-be principal dancer. Yes, I am back, but just for vacation and then I have to go back to Russia. Ready for the audition today, my little princess?" Heejin teased, now walking next to Jooyeon to the skylight studio. "Seriously, now you're like my mother. You should stop. And for the audition.. I don't know, we'll see later on. Will you be watching though?" Jooyeon replied, opening the studio's door and Heejin quickly walked in. "I will be watching the audition, and try not to scream your name too loud. You know me and my loud cheering voice." Heejin sat down on the floor with her back resting onto the mirror behind her. "Which almost got you kicked out by Madam Lee? Iconic." Jooyeon laughed, placing her bag next to Heejin. She changed her pants, and wrapped herself with her lavender-coloured chiffon skirt. Taking out the worn out pointe shoes from her bag, she started to wear it, tying the laces properly before standing up and stretching her leg muscles and her body. Heejin watched Jooyeon closely, admiring her childhood friend that already grows so much even after being separated for only a few months. Jooyeon did a few warming up routine, a few pirouettes until her eyes landed onto a familiar figure that walked pass the studio.

The guy who took a photo of her last week. Walking alongside with two other men, bringing a large bag and they walked straight to the Academy's auditorium studio. After their small eye contact last week, he piqued Jooyeon's curiosity, is he the new resident's photographer? Jooyeon could feel the warmth aura that radiates from him, even though he was outside the studio last week, but she felt comfort from his gaze.

"Yo. Jooyeon, you're not spotting at the right place." Heejin called out, snapping Jooyeon's attention back. "Uh? Sorry. Where were we?" Jooyeon cleared her throat, continued by Heejin who pointed out a few corrections to her.

- - -

"Oh, so this is what it feels like to be surrounded by cute dancers-- why hello." Minhyuk winked at a few dancers who's standing on the hallways, earning a few giggles here and there, Hyungwon just shook his head in embarassment, fastening his pace to stay a little bit far from Minhyuk, and Kihyun still busy with his phone as they walked through the hallway led by an older women who works as the receptionist, approaching the auditorium studio. "The audition will be held here, I was informed by the board members that all of you will start the project today? Make yourself feel like home, young gentlemen. Just make sure to always wear the staff badge whenever you're around here. So you won't get kicked out by the security." The older women said, leaving the three at the auditorium studio. The huge and high ceiling amazed them, mirrors and barres was set on the center of the auditorium, ready to welcome the resident dancers who is going to take the audition today. They took a seat on the second row from the front, prepping their camera so they're ready to start the day.

"Kihyun. Yo. You gotta let go that phone, man. Who are you texting?" Hyungwon nudged Kihyun with his elbow, "Hyunwoo hyung, he's meeting soon with the Academy's President. I just need to make sure that they get this proposal right." Kihyun sighed, now grabbing his camera from his bag, checking the lens and took a deep breath before letting it out into a long sigh.

Will she be here? Is she going for the audition today? Should I approach her and ask for her name? I really can't get her out from my mind since the first time I saw her. Kihyun's thoughts running wild and he unconsciously tapping his feet in nervousness. Minhyuk saw this antics and tapped Kihyun on the shoulder. "If you're still thinking about the butterfly girl last week, you got months to be spend here and you can just find her easily." Minhyuk said, which feels like he can read Kihyun's mind. "We'll see about that." He said, straightening his posture on his seat as soon as the auditorium door's swung open.

Resident dancers coming into the auditorium, and they immediately took their positions on the barre, ready to start company warm ups. Followed by the board members, concert director, producers, and the whole team. They greeted each other before approaching Kihyun and the others. "First time experiencing life in the Academy, gentlemen?" The directore smiled, and Kihyun replied with a soft chuckle as he nods. "I believe you'll take great photos, so, be comfortable, okay?" "No worries, sir. We'll manage." Kihyun replied.

There she is. The butterfly girl, he calls. His heartbeat starts to rise and he could feel sweat forming on his palms. She's donned with loose white knitted sweater covering her black lace leotard and wrapped with lavender-coloured chiffon skirt that he still remember she wore it last week. A worn out pointe shoes donned on both of her feet; and just the way she stands radiates so much charisma. And the way she smiles to others and the way her eyes shaped into a crescent moon as she chuckles just made Kihyun's heart went even more crazier than before.

He doesn't even know her name, personally, why did he feel things like this?

Kihyun distracted his thoughts by taking a few photos of the resident dancers, the directors, with a help of Hyungwon and Minhyuk as well.

- - -

Heejin took a seat near the directors and she waved her hand to Jooyeon, which caught both Kihyun and Jooyeon's attention. That's the second time their eyes met, only in a split second and Jooyeon smiled at him; more like both to Heejin and Kihyun. Heejin took notice at Jooyeon's smile and glanced behind, finding that Kihyun actually froze on the spot with camera still on his hands. Heejin turne around to flash a teasing smile at Jooyeon and back to Kihyun, clearing her throat to snap Kihyun back to reality. "You should get your head in the zone, bro. Go take some photos of my little princess will you?" Heejin teased, chuckling softly as she returned to face the resident dancers.

Kihyun startled but then he smiled and nodded, continuing to take photos and stealing some glances towards Jooyeon.

As a few repertoire passes and bodies fully warmed up, the director taking the resident dancers' full attention; "We will start the audition in 5 minutes, oh, I'd like to introduce all of you, these are the project photographers that will take shots behind the scenes on our progress towards the concert, because we will be having a photography exhibition led and curated by this man here, Yoo Kihyun. Helped by his team, Hyungwon and Minhyuk. Okay, now all of you can get ready for the audition. Thank you." The director introduced Kihyun and the others, he bowed slightly to the dancers and vice versa.

"Kihyun. Yoo Kihyun." Jooyeon faintly repeating his name as she prepared herself for the audition. "He's your type, isn't it?" Heejin sneaked behind Jooyeon, making her startled. "Heejin-ah! Seriously, you're making my life shorter every single time. And please stop, I'm not interested." Jooyeon said persistently, taking off her knitted sweater and passed it to Heejin. "You know, he seems nice. He just really drawn into you, I must say." Heejin chuckled, nudging Jooyeon's elbow. "I know, I know, you're still traumatised after the last relationship, but you gotta loosen up a bit, princess. Okay, go get the audition and nail the role. I'll be watching you." She pulled Jooyeon into a tight hugh before rushing back to the seats.

Kihyun walked past Jooyeon, who's busy stretching her legs on the barre. Mustering up his courage, he stopped, turning around to take a photo of her. "Hey, is it okay if I took a picture of you?" He asked politely, "Oh? Yeah, sure, it's okay." Jooyeon smiled at him, now with his figure closer to her, she could see the small details in his features. His sharp jawline, his high cheekbones, the eyes that twinkles whenever he smiles, oh, his gummy smile that brighten up a day. Suddenly, she could feel a blush forming onto her cheeks and she looked away trying to not be so obvious about it and focus on her stretchings. Kihyun breathed out a thank you before pressing the shutter click as he got a photo of Jooyeon once more.

"By the way, good luck for the audition." Kihyun said, before leaving Jooyeon to regain her focus once more. She only smiled at him but it is enough for Kihyun to feel like his day just got better today. Also, for Jooyeon, she couldn't help but widen her smile as soon as Kihyun said a simple word of encouragement and got this spark of energy inside her. Perhaps, this will be a good day.