#myself little treats now thanks to a small scholarship

[mangasimpqueen69]

Mailroom Crush! JJK x reader

University AU! Yuta Okkotsu x AFAB! Reader

Content warnings! none. cute fluff! slightly angsty. heavy kissing. implied smut if you squint. All characters are of age. MINORS and AGELESS DNI

This is a AU! where reader and Yuta are assigned the same job at university, and feelings begin to blossom. This is my first fic so please be kind! This will get a smutty part 2 maybe! Any creative criticism is welcome! reblogs and hearts are wonderful! Thank you so much for reading!

Ever since you had both been assigned to the mailroom for Work Study at university, you’ve had a crush on each other. He was calf deep into a mail bag sorting out things when you entered, skin golden and smooth like honey, fresh spritzed with a sweet vanilla perfume, and curly hair done up in two space buns, a few pieces haphazardly framing your face due to the humidity outside. It was early Autumn, and while things had been rather cool in the mailroom thanks to the air conditioning, you’d have thought your co worker had been running on a treadmill this whole time. You stand in the doorway before knocking.

          “Hey there! Just making sure I’m in the right place! You’re Yuta, right?” you greet chipperly.

So engrossed in his work, Yuta seemed to slightly jump at the sound of your voice. He dropped whatever mail he was hanging onto and looked in your direction, a smile forming on his features.

“Oh! Hi there… um yeah that would be me!” He responded in an exhale, carefully stepping over any strewn about packages or letters. As he came closer, you could see a small twinkle in his eyes. You also notice the slight blush on his cheeks but chalk it up to how hard he seemed to be working before you arrived. There was no doubt about how attractive he was. You guessed him to be just under 6 feet tall, deep sapphire eyes and lustrous dark hair, coming down to frame his face, hitting just at his cheekbones, though it being a little disheveled at the moment.

You introduced yourself and let him know you were also assigned here from the university. All your schooling was paid for through scholarships, so the work study was just a way for some extra income throughout the year, plus it worked around your class schedule. Formal introductions out of the way, he offers to show you around, though the space isn’t huge, and show you how things were done. You follow him around, listening intently. It was a simple enough job, sort mail and packages as they come in; mail goes into the slot matching the dorm building name and room number and packages get sorted by dorm building and sent next door for dispersal. Yuta showed you a few times how things were done, then offered that you give it a try. It was an easy job all things considered, memorizing what mailbox slots matched what dorm building was probably the hardest part. You helped him finish out the mail bag he was working on when you first arrived, and as soon as the bag was empty, the clock hit 5:45 pm.

“Hey fifteen minutes to spare, we did pretty good!” He beamed at you. You returned the smile, blushing a bit. “Let’s go get some dinner, my treat for a good first day!” He offered, you both got up and exited, Yuta locked the mailroom up.

          “What ya in the mood for?” Yuta asked. “Honestly, Taco Bell sounds great right now.” You laughed. “Taco Bell it is then! And we can just walk, since it’s only half a block from campus. I could eat a whole party box myself.” He relented. You laughed in agreement. The walk was nice. The Autumn air had cooled a bit, and the sky was clear, apart from a few stray clouds.

Once arriving at the fast-food joint, you both ordered and Yuta insisting on paying, even though you had cash in hand. The two of you made small talk as you waited for your order number to be called, Yuta telling you about his major and what he hoped to get out of his degree, and him shyly admitting he was an artist as a hobby. He mostly did pen or pencil drawings but created digital art from time to time on request. You asked if one day he wouldn’t mind letting you view some of his work when he felt comfortable, and he agreed. He questioned you for the same info, wanting to know about what you were studying and if you had any hobbies. You shared that you were a writer but didn’t want to disclose about what most of your content was.

He’d probably think I’m some kind of pervert if he found out I wrote romance/smut. You thought to yourself.

 “Oh, c’mon I’m sure it’s great! What kind of stuff do you write?” he teased. Before you opened your mouth to protest more, the woman working the counter called your order number and you breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s us!” you smile, and practically jump from your seat before Yuta can say anything else. Coming back with the food, you both dig in.

          On the walk back to the university, both of you enjoyed the other’s company. You shared silly dad jokes, talked about video games, what shows you enjoyed, your favorite TikTok’s and whatever else came to mind. Things went on like this for weeks. You two worked, laughed and talked together. On days you would finish up early, you would get dinner somewhere nearby. You became fast friends.

After about a month and a half of working together, the mailroom ran like a well-oiled machine. You both had found an ebb and flow to which you both could enjoy talking, even flirting heavily with one another more often than not. The ‘just a second too long’ glances and ‘accidental touches’ had been exciting for both of you, though neither would admit their crush on the other. Your work was not spared quality either, as tasks were accomplished early and with ease. As the semester wore on and as wonderful as things were, an incessant hiccup had started to appear. Her name was Isabella, though she would insist Yuta call her ‘Bella.’

Isabella would always visit the mailroom under the guise of picking up her orders, even though she knew that she was supposed to pick up the packages that were too big for the dorm mailboxes at the office around the corner. If you were the one who came to the counter, she always wanted to see Yuta, and if you happened to not be on shift with Yuta, she would just bound off without a word. She wasn’t ever necessarily rude, but it was too obvious she wanted Yuta to be with her. Yuta was always kind to her at the window, talking as much as he could, and would always politely excuse himself back to his work when he needed to. The way she would say goodbye to him was so sickly sweet, it almost gave you a toothache. She was a pretty girl, but you secretly hoped Yuta was not into her like that, though you were too shy to admit your own feelings as well.  He never seemed to outright flirt with her, but it was anyone’s guess as to how he felt about her on the inside.

This was the fourth time in three weeks Isabella had come to the mailroom. Yuta was scheduled to work, but one of the extracurriculars he was a part of with the school was traveling today and was granted the day off. You were prepared to hear the same long shrill of Yuta’s name from her lips that you had sworn you’d heard a thousand times at this point, and you sidle up to the counter, leaning against it to rest. You beat her to the punch. “Bella, Yuta’s not in today.” You sigh, taking a moment to think of how much better today would be if he was. Your mood would be much cheerier, not that you didn’t like your other coworkers, it was just always the most enjoyable with him by your side. His eyes would light up at the realization of the awful punchline you just finished a joke with. You would be able to make him double over in laughter and see his flawless smile. Isabella’s voice snapped you back to the present.

“Nope, sorry, only Yuta can call me that. Speaking of, where is that gorgeous thing?” She questions, trying to lean her head into the mail room as if you were hiding him away. “He had a trip with a school club or something.” You said through gritted teeth. You didn’t like how she talked about him when he wasn’t here. Yes, Yuta was very attractive, anyone with eyes could see that, but he was so much more than that. Isabella only seemed to want him as arm candy.  She only talked about his outer appearance and didn’t seem to care about much else.

She huffed a bit, then looked at you a little more intensely than was necessary. “I like him a lot you know.” She started. “Yes, everyone knows.” Both you and your coworker responded in tandem, having to resist the urge to roll your eyes. You laughed at the absurdness of the situation. “He is single right?” She asked. The temptation to lie was inexplicably strong. As much as you wanted to tell her he was with you, it wouldn’t be right. You had tried so many times to get the words to come out, but you always swallowed them back down, shamefully embarrassed. You and he were friends. You were too scared to ruin it with a relationship. “As far as I know.” You groaned, just wishing Isabella would leave. “Good, I plan on asking him out soon. Wouldn’t want anything in the way of that, would we?” She smiled sinisterly before heading off down the hall. Your thoughts begin to race at the realization that you may not have much time to confess before Isabella makes her move.

Once you are home for the evening, you call your best friend for some advice, and as much as part of your brain wanted to just hear them say not to worry about it, they laid everything out crystal clear. “Look,” your best friend started through the phone. “From what you tell me about him, how you talk about him, and the pictures you post on snap and send me of you guys hanging out and having fun, you like him, and he likes you! I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy since we went to the beach for my birthday last year.” You agree.  “You know I love you, but you have got to have courage here. The bottom line is, if you don’t say something, someone will come along and scoop him up before you get your chance. Don’t miss the opportunity to be happy.” You thank them and hang up, saying it is late and you want to get some sleep.

Another month and a half of the semester practically flew by. Both You and Yuta had been doing well in classes and were able to even help each other out with projects on occasion. The University was closing for Fall break in about two weeks, and you had to admit you’d be a little bummed about not seeing Yuta for a little while. Working with him several days out of the week had always made even the worst day a lot better for you. Isabella had been doing her twice a week visits, each time Yuta answering as kind and courteous at ever.

 You had heard through a few coworkers that Isabella would try to make her move today, and you still were not ready. You had been so in your head and back and forth, that you couldn’t keep track of everything. You see her come into view of the mailroom window, and your heart drops. You try to look as busy as possible, pretending you don’t see her so that she won’t see you looking so defeated. Tears threaten to leak from your eyes, and you decide you are not going to cry here. You quickly wipe away any tears and gather yourself together enough so that you can excuse yourself to the bathroom. Looking up, toward Yuta, you can see Isabella reach her hand out to hold his, and you swallow hard, forcing back any tears. Your face was red in embarrassment, sadness, and frustration.

“Hey Yuta, I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back.” You say, your voice coming out almost unrecognizable. He breaks the conversation from Isabella to voice concern over if you are doing okay, seeing as you sounded like you were on the verge of crying, but by the time he looks in your direction, you’ve already exited through the side door.

Through tears you search for an empty room, not really wanting to cry in the bathroom either, on the high probability Isabella decides to follow you in there to gloat about her new relationship. You test a janitor utility room door to find it unlocked, and quickly close yourself in. It was crowded with mops and brooms, light bulbs, replacement rolls of toilet paper, and several trash cans, but there was enough room for you. You moved some things around and found a perch on a sturdy stack of boxes. You sit in the dimly lit room, just letting the tears flow for a bit. You wrestled back and forth with your feelings. Maybe it was wishful thinking that someone like Yuta could want someone like me. We were never meant to be more than friends. He just deserves better. The negative thoughts came in quick succession, making you cry again after you had just dried up your tears.

While you never outright said anything to Yuta, it was not exactly a secret to the rest of the mailroom staff that you liked him. People put two and two together pretty easily. Whenever anyone brought up the two of you dating, you both played things very coy, assuring people you were just friends. Everyone always had the same reaction. They would laugh and say, “Friends, yeah okay, not with the way you two flirt.” and smile at us all suggestively. Both of your faces would turn red in response, and you would both just laugh it off. Surely with as often as Isabella visited, she knew of your crush. What did I ever do to fucking Isabella? You thought aloud. When the tears finally stopped, and you felt like you had returned somewhat to normal, you headed back to the mailroom. You we not sure how long you had been gone, and Yuta made no mention of it when you did return. You both finished your shift and went home for the day. Yuta tried to text you, asking if something was wrong, but you ignored it. Yuta decided it was best not to push it. After a few days, things between the two of you were back to normal.

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 Today was the last day the mail room was open, and it was only for half the day, so you were both wrapped up with work by 3:00pm. Most of the other staff and students had already gone home, as classes had also been let go early, while some professors opted to not have class at all.

“Whew! I don’t think I’ve ever moved that quick in my life!” You exclaimed, wiping the nonexistent sweat from your forehead. The mailroom wasn’t actually busy, you just knew Yuta loved it when you were all theatrical about everyday life. His wonderful laugh greeted your ears. “Don’t know how we survived!” He responded cheekily. “I say we treat ourselves to some Starbucks, the one down the block is open until 8 I think.” You offered. “And this time, I’m paying for you, Yuta.” You narrowed your eyes playfully, daring him to protest. He scoffed but played along. You both make your way outside once the mailroom is locked up.

 I’ve got to do it today. You thought, hyping yourself up to ask Yuta about Isabella. While she had not been coming around for the last bit before break, you assumed it was because she was dating Yuta, and had been seeing him outside of school. You were thankful for that at least, as seeing her with him would hurt you more than you ever wanted to admit out loud. It was probably rude to not be asking about his relationship, as he is one of your best friends, but you weren’t sure you had the mental strength to handle it. You were slowly working over getting over him, but it was harder than you had initially thought.

Once settled at Starbucks with your drinks in hand, you turn to head back to campus so you can both get your cars and head home. On the walk back, you fell into your same old rhythm, as if nothing had ever been wrong. Between laughter and talking, you could have sworn you seen Yuta eye your lips a few times and steal glances at your cleavage too. Your top wasn’t too revealing, but the V-cut of the neckline showed off just enough to be enticing. Your thoughts drifted to how his lips would feel on yours, his talking becoming slightly muffled in your ears. His lips were slightly plump, especially his bottom lip. They were a cherry blossom shade of pink, slightly bitten, as he would often chew on them when he was thinking of what to say. You wanted to feel them, on your lips, cheeks, neck, chest, anywhere. It wasn’t right to fantasize about him, but you wanted him so badly. It was almost criminal how much you wished for him to be yours.

“Anyway, that’s how I ended up with a big scar on my left shoulder.” Is what he was saying once you zoned back into reality. You look over at him. Your heart must have taken over in this instant, because your brain sure wasn’t in charge when you spoke next.

“Oh, hey Yuta, you saving some whip cream for later?” You laugh, motioning for him to wipe his mouth. You knew there wasn’t anything there, but you just had to know what his lips felt like, even if it couldn’t be from a kiss.

“Geez that embarrassing,” he laughs nervously, swiping at the corner of his mouth, feeling for the invisible bit of cream.

You smile at him. “Here let me.” You say, lightly placing your fingers along his cheek, and using your thumb to swipe across his lips.

They felt just as you suspected, dreamily soft.

Yuta swallowed the breath that had caught in his throat at your touch. “O-oh, uhm thank you.” He said, his cheeks turning a shade of cotton candy pink. You thought it was impossible for him to be any cuter than this. Just as the thought crossed your mind, you felt ashamed.

He is taken, what am I doing?

          “So, are you going home for break or?” You asked Yuta. “Oh no, I’m staying home. Actually, I’m about twenty minutes from here. My cousin has a place he isn’t using right now since he is overseas volunteering with some organization he’s a part of. He told me I could stay there since rent is already paid for the year. All I got to do is pay the utilities and keep it clean.” He says nonchalantly, as if it were normal to be that lucky.

“That’s pretty sweet actually.” You reply, wishing you had the same luck.

“I have an off-campus apartment too, but unfortunately, I have to pay utilities and rent. My roommate makes it a bit less lonely when she is actually there. I usually only go home for the Summer.” You emphasize the ‘and’ to be dramatic, earning a laugh from Yuta. You make it to campus and turn to say bye to Yuta. He interrupts you midway.

“Well, let me at least walk you to your car, wherever it is parked. You look like you know how to take care of yourself, but I wouldn’t feel right letting you walk alone.” Yuta offers.

“Ahh, I see I have a true gentleman in my company. Should I call you Mr. Okkotsu?” You tease him. He looks at you as if he is mulling it over, and you can’t help but snicker at him. “Yes, you can walk me to my car, thanks for offering.” You smile.  Not your boyfriend! You must remind yourself.

-----------------------------------in the parking garage--------------------------------------

“This is me!” You say, leaning back against the front door of your car to face Yuta. He is lagging a bit behind you but smiling at you, rubbing the back of his neck as if he is nervous. “Today was fun…” He begins, meeting your eyes. “I’m glad you got placed in the mail room, your jokes and talking with you makes things much better.” As he is talking, he is closing the bit of distance between your bodies.

“Well thanks! I’m glad my corny jokes work on somebody. You are wonderful to talk to also. Thanks for putting up with me the whole semester.” You respond sheepishly, unable to look him in the eyes. With only a few steps between the both of you, you take a second to remember what you wanted to say, your heart beating faster, breath quickening. Neither of you saying a word. You take a deep breath to steady your nerves, and to hopefully stave off any tears. “Yuta, I meant to say this sooner but congrats on you and Isa…” Your statement is cut short by Yuta reaching out and cupping your cheek as you did to him earlier that day. You could feel his hand tremble just slightly. His eyes seemed to twinkle in the low lighting of the garage. You meet his gaze; his cheeks dusted that same shade of cotton candy pink.

“You just have something right...." He leans in, his lips ghosting across your own. He seemed almost afraid, too nervous to go in for a full-on kiss. It was sweet and chaste. You had no idea a human was capable of being this gentle. “There.” He finishes, a small smile forming on his lips.  “Oh...wow.” you mumbled, not realizing you were holding your breath until he pulled away and you exhaled. Your body was instantly too hot, and you are unable to look Yuta in the eyes anymore. It was too intense a feeling.

“I am so, so sorry.” He begins to apologize profusely, thinking he had upset you. You halted him immediately. “No need to be sorry Yuta. That was absurdly sweet.” You reassure him, reaching out to lightly squeeze his bicep. You take a mental note of how much muscle he was hiding under his lean frame. “Wait, are you not dating Isabella?” You question, the dreamy moment being broken. “No. I mean she did ask me out, but I let her down as easy as I could.” He takes a second to pause, biting his bottom lip, as he always does, “Wait, is that why you left all upset that one day in the mailroom when she was at the counter?” he asks, remembering how any time he tried to bring it up, you shut him down saying it was nothing. You look at the ground, sort of embarrassed. “Yes, she let it be well known that she liked you, and that day was when she was supposed to ask you out, and I liked you so much it just hurt.” You confess, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“Look,” Yuta began, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. “Isabella is pretty, but she’s just not for me. I’d much rather have you.” He smiles. You can’t help the bit of a laugh that comes out. “That was so corny.” You smile at him, doing your best to hide the fact that your heart is doing summersaults in your chest. “Well, I learned from the best.” He muses. “Corny or not, that doesn’t make it any less true.” He confesses wistfully.  “The relief that washes over you is immense.

 He likes you! All this time you were worried, and it was you he wanted! Let’s make up for lost time then! Your inner monologue excitedly rambles.

“In that case, allow me to reciprocate.” You say, smirking.

You pulled him back toward you with his forearm in your grip and rested your bodyweight on your car. Once his body was flush with yours, you draped your arms over his neck and looked into his eyes. “I’m going to kiss you back now, is that okay?” You asked him to make sure he was still into this. “Yes please.” he responded, barely above a whisper, as if he was trying not to get the two of you caught.

 Why is he so shy now? You wonder.

You lean up a bit on your toes to kiss his forehead, then went in for a kiss on the lips. Unlike his barely-there kiss, you wanted to give him a bit more. You pressed your lips to his, darting your tongue out to lick at his plush bottom lip. At that, he melted into the kiss and your body a bit more, as if asking you to do it again.

Who were you to deny this sweet man? Especially now that he wanted to be yours.

You grant his wish, and this time he parts his mouth slightly so that you can nibble on his bottom lip. He hums in approval, and you can feel his body heat as he presses into you. He smelled of Sandalwood and citrus, and you felt intoxicated by it. You take the initiative to take a finger and tilt his head to the side, where you would have access to kiss up his jaw to his earlobe. The whole time, Yuta’s hands are roaming your sides, lightly squeezing your waist, then traveling back up to rest on the tops of your shoulders, not yet daring to wander to your chest, though if you had to guess, he had been craving to feel your breasts.

Your heightened state of arousal emboldens you enough to whisper into his ear. “I can feel how much you want me.”

It was true. His erection had been pressing into you for a bit, and it was by no means unimpressive. His jeans made it a bit difficult to tell as far as length went, but you knew he was on the thicker side. Even nastier thoughts flooded your mind, as your cell phone began to buzz, interrupting the moment. “Ignore it.” Yuta mumbled, dipping his head to kiss your neck. You had thought about doing just that. This dream turned reality was too good to let slip by. No sooner had the buzzing stopped, your phone started dinging. Once, twice… four times, and then the buzzing again. You sighed. “Yuta, I have to check.” He gave you a chaste kiss to the forehead before moving back to give you room. Checking your phone, you roll your eyes in response.

“My roommate needs me home.” You relent. Yuta just smiles. “Okay, text me when you get home, so I know you are safe, okay?” “Don’t I always?” You tease him. You get in your car and start it up, as he steps back and waves goodbye. You are starting to back out when you see him run back up to your window. You just laugh and roll it down. “Yes?” You ask sweetly.

So, just to be clear, we’re dating now, right?” He asks.

You giggle at him. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Maybe I’ll invite him over next time my roomie is out. Your brain reels with the fun you two will have now that you are finally together.

[coffeecakefanfics]

Mosaic | B.B x Fem!Reader

An: I can’t tell if I like this but have it anyway

Fluff? idfk

requests are open

words: 2,011

It started innocently enough.  When Bucky was brought to the compound Steve had taken the young girl under his wing, treated her as his kid.  Though in all fairness she was Stark's actual kid first, she never minded Steve stepping in as a second parent. She actually appreciated Steve and Bucky coming to visit her in her room or when theyd all sit in the living room and watch movies, catching the pair up on things they’d missed. 

Steve had to go on a mission, it left a few other Avengers, Wanda, Nat, Bruce, Bucky, and Peter (who popped in every now and then to ask for help from the older girl). 

“Hey Guys, can you do me a favor and look at this piece and tell me what you think?” She asked, carrying a large canvas into the Kitchen. Wanda stood at the stove, Pepper was sat at the counter typing on her laptop and Bucky was perched at the table, a cold look on his face. 

“Show,” Wanda grinned and turned from the stove.

“It’s for my senior portfolio, my theme is “Lost in Time”,” Y/N spun the canvas, setting it on the table.  It was a painting, a painting of Steve and Bucky from the forties, a painting of a picture that to Bucky’s knowledge had been lost. The breath left his lungs and tears sat at the edge of his eyes. 

“I Figured I’d paint my two favorite guys, you know, since you literally were lost in time and all,” she gulped the lump in her throat at everyones silence. 

“Do, do you have more?” Bucky asked barely above a whisper, his fingers willed him to reach out. Y/n slowly nodded and peeked down at the painting. It was the first thing he’d ever said to her, and her alone.  It made her heart skip and her stomach flutter. 

“It’s beautiful Y/n. I’m sure this is the one that’ll get you the scholarship,” Pepper smiled and stood, kissing the top of the girls head. 

“Thanks Pepper, Hey Wanda how long till dinner?”

“About 30 minutes dear,” Wanda smiled at the girl. 

“Okay, Bucky I can. . .Show you the others, if you’d like that,” Y/n spoke slowly, testing the waters.  Receiving a nod in response the girl hugged Wanda and kissed Pepper on the cheek before leading the man up to her room.  The walls were a soft white and were littered with paintings and posters and vinyl records.  Bucky watched as she set the painting on an easel.  

“This one is one of Steve, When he was doing the propaganda tour,” she smirked and pointed to the painting. 

“That one is of a little boy i’d found in an old photograph, he’s polish.  Oh this one, is actually inspired by Gone with the Wind umm, it’s one of my favorite books and movies that’s a period piece,” she motioned to a painting of a woman on a swing in one of the big puffy dresses. 

“It was mine too,” Bucky almost, almost smiled.

“I have a copy of both if you’d like to ever read or watch it,” she beamed at him.  It set something in him ablaze.

Here she was 25, sitting in her apartment on facetime with her little sister, working on her portfolio 

“Morgan I promise to come see you and mom this weekend, I just have work,” Y/n laughed at her sister.

“But I miss you now,” The little girl frowned. 

“I miss you too goofball,” her eyes welled up.

“Mommy says you’re going to be famous,” Morgan spoke pointedly into the camera. Y/n let out a chuckle at her sister. 

“Don’t jump baby, I still have a lot of work to do,” she smiled.  

“Mommy also said daddy would be proud of us,” her heart panged at that.  

“He would Morgs, you know, Daddy loved you very much,” Y/n felt tears slip from her eyes. 

“Come on Morgan, dinner, “ Pepper spoke, “Say bye to Sissy,” 

“Bye, Hurry home”

“I will” Morgan passed the phone to Pepper. 

“How are you doing Sweetie?” Pepper had a solemn smile on her face. 

“I’m. . . “ Y/n stopped. “I miss him, everyday,” the tears spilled over.

“I know baby, I miss him too. Our door is always open if you want to stay,” Pepper tried not to cry, for Morgan. 

“Thanks mom, Give Morgan a huge hug for me okay, I’ll see you this weekend,” Y/n choked. Pepper said her goodbyes and hung up the phone.  (E/c) eyes drifted to the larger than most canvas across the room,  the canvas covered her dining table and was adorned with a half painted portrait of her dad, Steve and Nat.  The memorial piece would be hung publicly at the new Stark Memorial building.  She tried to finish it, the unveiling was in two weeks, but nothing felt right.  It had been 6 months, 6 long months without her dad, without Nat, without Steve.  

A gentle knock drug her attention to the door.  She drug her feet as she crossed the room, opening the door as much as the chain would let her standing before her was Bucky and the New Captain America, Sam Wilson himself. She gasped and slammed the door shut, flinging it open and wrapping her arms tightly around Bucky.  The tears fell again. 

“Holy shit, how, how did you find me?” she asked as she pulled back and threw her arms around Sam. 

“Had to ask your stepmother,” Sam smirked when Y/n stepped back. 

“In, come in, sorry,” she stepped aside and let the men in.  The two smirked at the decor in the apartment. 

“You always did know how to make a place feel like home,” Sam joked and let his eyes drift over pictures of her with the Avengers. 

She turned her attention to Bucky who shifted in his shoes. “I missed you Buck,” she smiled at him. 

“Missed you too doll,” he bit his cheek. “Sorry I didn’t call I-” 

“Don’t” Bucky gave her a look. “Don’t blame yourself, you had a lot going on, so did I, but it’s okay you’re here now, so chill,” she smiled and nudged him, earning a light chuckle. 

“So what brings you handsome men to my little home?” she joked and pulled down two wine glasses 

“Well, we wanted to check on you, it’s been 6 months. Hear you’ve been busy?” Sam questioned, and thanked her when she handed him the wine. 

“Yeah um, I managed to get into an art exhibit, and I’m working on a piece for the Stark Memorial building,” she handed a bottle of beer to Bucky.  She’d never admit it, but she kept a six pack in the fridge for if he ever stopped by. 

“Stark Memorial?” Bucky asked. 

“Uh Yeah the memorial building, one of my artist friends is carving the statues out front of Steve, Nat and, Dad, I am in charge of the Painting for the entryway, the one that’ll hang above the door.  The memorial is going to display the suits and tech and stuff like that I don’t know the specifics,” She stammered on.  The three sat and talked for hours before Sam had to go, it was getting late and he didn’t want to miss his flight in the morning. 

“Bucky?” her voice was soft.

“Yeah Y/n?” he looked at her. Regret filled his belly as he took in her frame. 

“Do you mind staying a little longer, it’s been a while and I missed you,” her voice was shaking, nervous, scared of rejection.

“Of course,” he nodded and sat back down. 

“So therapy?” she spoke, her tone lighter.  Bucky let out a groan. 

“Do NOT get me started,” he rolled his eyes.  Y/n let out a laugh, a laugh that he missed.  

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, in fact he would sit and watch her name light up his shitty phone.  He was afraid, afraid that he would get attached, that she would leave him too. That his heart would betray him yet again.  He was Afraid of losing her, of loosing the only other person he felt at home with until now. 

“I’m proud of you Buck,” she swirled her wine, he hadn’t noticed she’d brought the bottle to the table. 

“For?”

“Trusting Sam,” she peeked up at him. A soft pink dusted his cheeks. He took a sip of his beer, missing the feeling of being tipsy or drunk. 

“I wanted to call,” he blurted out.  His words took the girl aback. 

“I just, I couldn’t bring myself to, not after what happened,” he cleared his throat.

“Oh Buck,” she set her glass down and stood up. “Come here,” she held her hand to him.  He traced his eyes over her hand, up the expanse of her arm, over the curve of her shoulder, before allowing himself to submit to her.  Her hand was soft, warm, clammy.  She led him through her apartment and opened a door.  She pulled him through.   With a flick of the switch the room buzzed to life, her studio.  His eyes danced around the murals and paintings that littered the desks and shelves and walls.  His eyes were directed to a desk in the corner, a sheet was draped over a canvas.  Her fingers lifted the dust colored fabric to reveal a painting that knock the air out of Bucky’s lungs and made his eyes well up.  The same effect her first painting had on him now knocked him breathless once again.  It was the two of them, sat side by side in the quinjet, his first mission.  The two wore huge smiles across their faces.  Her hair was set back neatly and Bucky had his pinned back, courtesy of the girl next to him.  God only knows what had them all smiled, but that was the moment they realized they needed each other.  

The mosaics of paintings around the room started to make his spin, most were snippets of them. Have you ever taken that first sip of coffee? The way it slides down your throat and hits your belly so well it speaks to the soul.  The feeling Bucky felt when he looked back at Y/n again.  Her hair was messy from work, her lips stained from the wine, the way her clothes fell on her body had Bucky’s head spinning.  He felt almost dizzy? Is dizzy the word he felt.  He let himself go, entirely, giving in to the craving of her skin on his.  He enveloped her in a hug that was nothing short than the blanket of security she had longed for since her dad passed, since Steve left, Since Bucky hadn’t returned her calls.  The barrier between the two crumbled as he cradled the back of her neck gently in his hand, the cool metal pressing her back to be closer, willing himself to conjoin with her, to never leave her again.  Tears fell from his eyes this time. 

“I was scared,” he said. “Steve left me, he chose her, and I didn’t want to lose you too,”? He choked. 

“Buck?” He couldn’t respond, only nod. 

“Your painting was the one to get my scholarship,” she spoke, her voice was shaky, small. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he pulled back, letting his fingers brush over her cheek. “So proud” he pursed his lips. 

“I buy plums and beer just in case you come by, I reread Gone With the Wind and the Hobbit when I'm sad because it was your favorite. I sleep with my window cracked because hearing outside made you sleep better. I never wash my clothes on Wednesday because that was your day.  I am a mosaic of you and all of your pieces,” the way she looked at him shattered every doubt he had.  The way her lips felt against his shattered hers.  The two wrapped themselves in each other, relishing in the feeling of releasing pent up emotions.

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

More Hearts Than Mine - Part II

I do not own anything that is familiar to you - songs, characters, etc. This is the next part of the story - you’ll get to meet Jack and the person he’s bringing home with him. Enjoy!

Catch up with Part I Here!

PART II

September 20, 2019

“So I have a question for you.” Jack asked, sliding into a chair across from his girlfriend with a grin.

Kat leaned forward, placing a kiss on his lips. “That depends?”

“On what?” Jack raised his eyebrows, giving her a look.

Kat laughed, picking up her pen, quickly jotting down something on the notebook in front of her. “On where you want to bury the body?”

Jack threw his head back and laughed, loudly, catching the attention of several tables surrounding them. “There won’t be a body to bury. I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to come home with me to meet my momma and my siblings.”

Kat paused in her actions, slowly looking up from the notebook to see her boyfriend grinning at her. “You want me to come home with you to meet the family?”

“I’d love for you but if it’s too soon, I completely understand.” Jack paused. “I am planning on making a trip back in a few weeks and would love for you to come back with me.”

Kat bit her lip, looking at him. “You have six siblings, right? What makes you think they’re not going to tear me apart? You did mention that you’ve never brought anyone home.”

“They will love you, just as I love you.” Jack said, grinning.

Raising an eyebrow, Kat shook her head. “You’re laying it on thick, Kelly. I don’t know . . .”

“Come on, what do you have to lose?” Jack said, lacing his fingers with his, giving them a squeeze.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. “When do we leave?”

October 4, 2019

Relaxing against the seat, she watched the scenery pass by as a Gavin DeGraw song came on the random playlist Jack had put on. “So you said that you had something you wanted to tell me on the way.”

Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, Jack reached over and laced his fingers with hers. “You’re the first person I’ve brought home, but I told you that already. Medda adopted me when I was 14 years old. Racer and I were adopted together, we’re brothers by birth. Medda added Albert and Charlie a year later with Smalls two years after that. My siblings can be rough, hellions even, especially when new people are brought around. Just . . . don’t hold anything against them.”

“Did you tell them you were bringing me?” She asked, biting her lip.

It was Jack’s turn to bite his lip. “Not exactly.”

He yelped as her hand hit his shoulder. “Jack! You’re not making it any easier. Don’t you think telling them you’re bringing me home might help the situation a bit?”

“I was just too excited that you actually said yes that I didn’t exactly think things through . . .” Jack admitted with a grin. “They’re going to love you when they meet you.”

She was hesitant, giving Jack’s hand a squeeze. “If you say so.”

“There’s one more thing you should be aware of.” Jack started, squeezing her hand back. “Momma is special. She tends to adopt anyone that walks through the door. Just know that if something happens with us, which I’m not advocating for by the way, she would be even more devastated and feel like one of her children ran away from home.”

She raised an eyebrow, shifting in her seat. “So are you telling me that we can’t break up because it will break your momma’s heart?”

“Uh huh . . . there’s one thing you never wanna do and that’s make Medda angry at you.” Jack shrugged.

“I take it you’re talking from experience?” She quipped, as a grin stretched across her face.

His silence was all the answer she needed from him. “What did you do to piss your momma off?”

“There’s too many times to count.” Jack grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I was the problem child, it’s a wonder she continued to adopt after me and Racer.”

She raised an eyebrow, grinning. “That explains so much . . . what kind of problem child? I mean, should I be worried?”

“I may have been caught stealing once and ran with a rough crowd.” Jack shrugged. “It was a rough two years when I was teenager but Medda was firm and loving and managed to turn myself around. Though, there were many times I thought she would kick me to the curb but she never did.”

“So tell me about your siblings.” She shifted in her seat, eyes bright with excitement, despite her nerves at meeting his family.

A smile crossed Jack’s face as he reflected on his mismatched family. “What do you want to know about the hellions?”

“Should I be afraid that you call them hellions? Just whatever you want to share.” She shrugged, knowing they still had a bit of time ahead of them.

The song changed on the playlist she had picked when they first got in the car. Jack grinned listening to “The Last Song” by All American Rejects.

“Nah, we’re all a mismatch group - we’re all misfits that create a pretty amazing family. Anthony is 17 and my half brother. We call him Race or Racer but he’s the sweetest kid, even though he can be a pain in the ass at any moment. Kid’s got a mouth on him that Momma and I have been trying to curtail but it’s not taking much. He’s dating Sean, better known as Spot. They’ve been together for the last two years but have been friends for as long as I can remember. Charlie and Albert were the next two that Medda adopted - Charlie is a sweetheart with an evil streak. He’s our practical joker so be on the lookout, though Momma probably gave them the ‘don’t do anything stupid’ talk already. And Albert, he’s super smart but doesn’t really apply himself, rather just cruise through school. Albert is a wicked good soccer player and it’s pretty cool to watch him out on the field. His boyfriend, Finch is the goalie and the two of them are pretty incredible - they’re already talking scholarships for college.” Jack paused, shaking his head at the older of his younger siblings.

“They all sound pretty remarkable.” She murmured.

Nodding, Jack grinned. “They all are. Now for the younger three. Smalls is our only girl in the family but don’t let that fool you. She’s tough as nails, despite being a natural girly girl. She plays lacrosse and is damn good at it. She’s ruthless at it and it’s pretty cool watching her fight on the field. She’s a sweetheart and mostly always gets her way due to being the only girl. Romeo is our flirt but he’s harmless. He’s charismatic and energetic and really good at school, despite him being bored most of the time. He’s in a gift program at school and he’s a wicked good artist - he puts me to shame sometimes. And then there’s Henry, our newest brother. He’s four and has the biggest heart - he’s a cuddler, so beware. All of us are huggers, it’s just when you’ve been denied it for so long, you naturally drift to that - Henry never had that trepidation and just loves whoever he comes into contact with - there’s no malice or resentment yet.”

Reaching over, she grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze with a sad smile. “Thanks for telling me. I’m excited to meet them all. Do you have any pets?”

“Albert has Fluffy, Race has Iggy the iguana, and from what I’ve heard, Smalls has been trying to convince momma to get a dog. The house is already a three ring circle yet momma is considering adding a dog to the mix.” Jack shook his head chuckling at his family.

She raised an eyebrow. “So you mentioned that a couple of your siblings were pranksters - anything I should be cautious of?”

“Momma probably had the talk about treating you like she treated all of them when she adopted us so they should be on their best behavior.” Jack grinned. “You’re tough and you grew up with brothers so I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

“I just want this weekend to go well and for them to like me.” She whispered, giving him a look.

Squeezing her hand, Jack smiled. “A little advice for this crew?”

“What’s that?” Katherine asked, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

“Don’t let the little things bother you; laugh, a lot, and just talk with my siblings - that’ll go a long way in their book.” Jack smiled, pulling into the driveway of a gorgeous house.

A gasp escaped Katherine’s mouth. “This is your house?”

“Yeah . . . momma was married and divorced ten year ago and from the divorce bought this house and filled it with kids that her ex-husband denied her.” Jack turned off the car with a shrug. “Come on . . . the longer we sit here, the more time they’ve got to plan.”

Getting out of the car, she let her eyes scan the front of the tall dark grey exterior with white shutters. A basketball hoop sat in the driveway along with several scooters and bikes. Hearing the car door shut, she felt Jack’s presence behind her with their bags. “Take a deep breath, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“You aren’t about to meet your boyfriend’s family.” She gently teased.

He laughed. “No but I had to sit through dinner with your family and I guarantee this will be much less organized than that was. There may even be a small food fight.”

“Something to look forward to then.” She grinned, lacing her fingers with his with a squeeze before they made their way up the steps just as the front door flew open.

“Momma, Jackie brought a pretty girl home.” Henry, she was impressed that she remembered his name, yelled into the house.

In the next moment, her hand was dropped as Jack was engulfed with hugs from his siblings. Their bags were dropped by the door as he swung a couple of them into his arms. She grinned watching him completely relax in the mayhem as an older woman, she presumed it was his momma, came closer to her. “I apologize for my children, it’s not often they’re away from their brother for this long. I’m Medda, Jack’s mom.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Katherine.” She grinned as Medda engulfed her in a hug. Looking over her shoulder, Katherine caught Jack’s eye as a giant smile crossed his face.

Jack clapped his hands, as the two women broke apart, both with grins on their faces. “Momma, gang, this is Katherine, my girlfriend. Katherine, this is the crew.”

A light blush crossed her face as she looked at the eight faces that surrounded her. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Wait . . how do you know us?” Smalls piped up, looking between her brother and mom.

Katherine smiled. “Your brother told me all about you . . .”

“Glad you know about us but we don’t know about you.” Race’s sarcasm came out as he looked between the girl and his oldest brother. “Thought we didn’t keep secrets, Jackie.”

And with that, he left the room, pounding up the stairs. A few seconds later, a door slammed. A sigh came over her shoulder as a shorter boy smacked Jack’s back a couple of times before shaking his head. “You knew he was going to bring out the dramatics, Jack. Want me to go talk to him?”

“Nah, I’ll do it, Spot.” Jack walked over to Katherine’s side. Lacing her fingers in with his, she gave it a quick squeeze, as he looked down at her. “Let me introduce Katherine to you all then get her settled and I’ll talk to him.”

The next few minutes were filled with introductions as Kat made small talk with all of them. She found out she had a lot in common with Albert, Charlie, and Spot. She cracked a couple of jokes that caught the attention of Smalls and Romeo. As promised, Henry slipped his hand into Kat’s and hadn’t let go the entire time she talked with Finch and Spot.

“I’m going to show her to her room then we’ll be down, okay?” Jack clapped his hands as she finished talking about her journalism major with Charlie.

Jack grabbed their bags before ascending the stairs. Along the way, he pointed out the kid’s bedrooms before leading her to the guest room, which was adjacent to his own room. “This is your room.”

Pushing open the door, she smiled at the brightly painted buttery yellow room. A bed sat in the middle with a small bedside table and an adjacent bathroom. “You get the best room in the house - you don’t have to fight for the bathroom.”

Putting her bag down beside the desk, she gave the room one more lookover before gasping. In the middle of her bed was a snake, basking in the sunshine. Taking a step forward, she carefully picked up the snake, running a finger, gently over its back. “And who might this be?”

Jack chuckled, surprised by his girlfriend’s gentle nature to the snake. “That’s Fluffy, Albert’s pet snake. You never told me you were comfortable around snakes.”

“It’s a ball python, Jack. They’re harmless.” She grinned, eyes floating over to the doorway where Albert and Charlie stood. “Let me guess, her cage accidentally got left open?”

The two at least had the decency to look guilty as they stepped into the room. “Yeah, sorry about that Katherine. We’ll just go put her back in her cage.”

“She’s sweet.” Kat called after them as Jack pulled her into his arms with a laugh.

He leaned down and kissed her quickly before pulling back. “You just won a buttload of brownie points with them. How about you freshen up while I go talk to Racer? I’m sorry about him, Kat.”

“Don’t be . . . I told you that you should’ve warned them you were bringing me home.” She gave him a look, before pushing to her tiptoes and brushing a kiss to his lips. “Love you regardless.”

“Love you too.” WIth a final kiss, he left the room as she took a seat on the bed and tried to calm her racing heart. Twenty minutes down, the entire weekend in front of her.

She quickly ran a brush through her hair before using the restroom before walking down the hallway trying to find out where Jack went. She heard his voice and followed the direction. Stopping in front of Jack’s room, she smiled seeing Race and Jack sitting on the bed beside one another. “Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her home?”

“I was nervous . . . I’ve never brought someone home and I didn’t want to hype it up anymore than it needed to be.” Jack admitted. “But I realized it backfired. I’m sorry, Racer. Do you forgive me?”

A quick nod of the head, Race grinned, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “You mentioned she picked up Fluffy?”

“Without an ounce of hesitation, as if she’s held one her whole life.” Jack said, with a shake of his own head.

“I had a ball python growing up. Her name was Izzy.” Kat took that moment to interrupt the two by leaning against the door. “Hi Race, I’m Katherine. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He held out his hand for her to shake. She did with a grin. “I’m sorry about earlier . . . it just took me off guard.”

“No worries . . . I did tell your brother he should have told you all but he never listens.” She grinned.

Race’s eyes went wide at her comment. “He never listens . . . it’s one of his most annoying traits.”

“Oh, no. I’m going to regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Jack said, looking between his brother and girlfriend.

Kat laughed. “I think Race and I are going to get along just fine.”

“Kids, dinner.” Medda yelled up the stairs as a stampede of feet hitting the stairs was heard.

Jack and Race’s eyes went wide as they made their way to the hallway. “First rule of the household, Kat, dinner waits for no one.”

She watched Race run down the stairs as her and Jack took their time. Lacing fingers with Jack, they made their way into the dining room. All Kat could think was it was organized chaos, with all the kids trying to find a spot around the table. Two chairs were left open on Medda’s left, as Jack dragged her in that direction. “We have assigned seats around the table to stop anything from even starting.”

“Quit making us sound like heathens, Jack.” Race called from across Kat with a wicked grin. “You make us sound like we can’t control ourselves.”

Jack raised an eyebrow in Race’s direction. “Need I remind you about the great spaghetti disaster of 2015?”

Various shouts of disdain came from around the table as Kat’s head went from Race’s outrageous face to Medda putting her face in her hands with a groan. “I thought we promised to never talk about that, ever again.”

Jack put his hands up innocently at Medda’s exclamation. “Sorry momma . . . hence why we have assigned seating around this table.”

And with that, spaghetti was scooped onto plates and conversation hushed as everyone began eating. Katherine ate with gusto while listening to everyone talk about their day. Henry ran an animated discussion about preschool dramatics while Smalls just shook her head at her brother. “Thought you were allowed to be around Avery after you put paint in her hair?”

Henry at least has the decency to look guilty. “Well . . . that was last week. Monday was a new week.”

“Wait . . .” Jack held up a hand, looking around the dining room table. “Henry James, you put paint in Avery’s hair?”

Henry grinned brightly at his older brother. “Well . . . she started it by putting playdough in my milk cup. I had to get her back somehow.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kat watched Jack bite his lip to hold back the laughter that wanted to escape. “Well that wasn’t very nice.”

“Try having a conversation with his teacher about it.” Medda piped up, giving her youngest a look, while shooting a warning look to her oldest. “So how’s school going Jack?”

Taking a drink of water, Jack shrugged. “It’s going good. Finally got into the groove of classes and homework and balancing everything. I really like my art history class, the professor is really cool.”

“Sounds like a snoozer.” Albert piped up, giving his older brother a look.

“Of course you’d say that . . .” Romeo rolled his eyes at his older brother, before turning his attention to Jack. “Are you studying Monet or Rembrandt yet?”

Jack chuckled at Romeo’s dig at Albert before shaking his head. “Nah, we’re starting with Da Vinci but we’re going to be studying both of them.”

“Ugh . . . Da Vinci.” Romeo made a gagging noise which caused Kat to giggle at him. “Now talk to me when you’re studying Monet.”

“Alright nerds . . . moving on.” Race gave his brothers a look. “What is the plan for the weekend?”

Six eyes looked between Jack and Medda as Kat did the same. She was just along for the ride for the weekend. “Albert’s got a game tomorrow morning that I figured you’d want to go to Jack but other than that, there’s nothing planned.”

“I want to show Kat around a bit at some point but we can play that by ear.” Jack shrugged, looking at his girlfriend. “We can go to Al’s game . . . you know, Kat played soccer in high school.”

Albert’s eyes lit up at that. “What position did you play?”

“Center Midfielder.” She grinned. “My team went to state and lost in the final game in overtime, penalty kicks.”

Albert whistled slowly, shaking his head. “Tough break. I usually go outside after dinner to kick around in the backyard, if you want to join me.”

“I’d love to. Your brother doesn’t know how to kick a soccer ball properly.” She gave Jack a wicked grin before looking across the table at Albert. “He has absolutely no ball control.”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Race pipped in, looking at Katherine. “There may have been several windows broken because someone has a left foot.”

Jack held up his hands in defense. “I didn’t realize the ball would go towards the house. I was aiming towards the field.”

“What are you even saying?” Kat gave him a look, shaking her head. “I don’t even know the words that are coming out of your mouth.”

Albert, Finch, Spot, Race, and Charlie all busted out laughing at Katherine’s bluntness. “Oh you’ve met your match, Jackie.”

Dinner quickly finished up, and before long the table was cleared before the family headed outside to enjoy the last few hours of the day. All the kids ran out into the big backyard while Jack and Medda hung out on the deck. “I’m so glad you’re home, Jack.”

“It’s good to be home momma. How have you been?” Jack looked over at the woman who had saved his life more times than he could count.

Medda reached out and patted his shoulder. “I’ve been good, busy with the kids, making sure they are all happy and have everything you need. It’s been an adjustment since you went back to school but it seems like we’ve got it all figured out now. But I won’t say that I haven’t missed you.”

“I have missed you too, momma.” Jack smiled. “And funny enough, I’ve even missed the zoo and the antics of everyone.”

She gave him a look. “Only you could call this place a zoo and live to tell the tale.”

“Oh momma, you love me so much more than the others. I’m your first born.” Jack grinned, knowing though Medda would deny it, it was true.

Medda watched Kat and Albert pass the ball back and forth between them. “Jack …. you know I love you all equally but I will say the house hasn’t been the same since you went back to college.”

“Is that a good thing or bad?” Jack asked, not really wanting to know the answer either way.

Medda chuckled. “I’ll let you figure that one out.”

Leaning back in the lounge chair, Jack watched his siblings and friends run around the yard. A game of chase had begun while Kat and Albert continued to kick the ball back and forth, dodging hitting anyone in the process. It was good to be home.

[outrebanx]

helping hand

Pope Heyward x female reader

Masterlist

Summary: Whilst Pope is delivering your groceries for his dad, he injures himself and you help him out and end up spending the day with him (oof another bad summary)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: none other than a small bit of swearing

A/N: this isn’t amazing (there are almost definitely grammar mistakes in here and I’m not sure about how I’ve written it as a whole) but I love Pope so much and there are not nearly enough fics with him so I tried my best - and again any feedback would be great!

Since finishing your school year, you were having less and less things to do and it was beginning to drive you insane - so today you had decided to spend the whole morning cleaning all the rooms downstairs in your house. Cleaning your house generally took quite a long time because your house is pretty big (which in your opinion is one of the only benefits of being a kook) and you would get distracted by almost anything, whether that was your phone, music or something you found in the cupboards. Despite this though,  you always kind of enjoyed cleaning - the feeling of helping out your parents was nice and you could listen to your music very loud and sing along as badly as you wanted without anyone else hearing.

Another good thing about being home alone was you didn’t have to look presentable and when you clean your appearance is very simple and usually consists of clothes that don’t matter if they get dirty - today you were working with a messy bun, a simple black sports bra and some grey shorts which showed off you figure quite nicely.

As it was now lunch time, you decided to have a small break before tackling the rest of the house and apparently there was also a grocery order coming in from the Heywards which you’d have to pay for with your parent’s money as they were out on a business trip.

You were washing up the dishes you’d used for your lunch when you saw Mr Heywards boat pull up to your dock, quickly grabbing the money off the counter you made your way to the front door. Just as you opened the door and began to step out to help the guy making his way up the dock, he fell over suddenly, dropping everything he was holding to try and stop his fall - clearly this didn’t work as the next thing you heard was him swearing whilst holding his wrist.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit”

Running towards him you shouted, “hey are you okay?”

You had reached him by the time he looked up to reply, “I should be fine, I’m so sorry about all this though” he waved his hand indicating all the shopping scattered over the floor, some rolling into the water beneath the dock.

You had to admit now you were closer to him, you could appreciate how attractive he was, his dark brown eyes reflecting the sunlight nicely, making your heart jump a little. But he seemed more preoccupied with the scattered groceries than you, so you were quick to reassure him that it wasn’t an issue.

“It honestly doesn’t matter, most of this I can pick up and I guess we’ll just have to survive without the stuff that fell in the water - and hey at least the fish are eating like kooks” You laughed at your own joke, but all he did was stare at you, surprised you hadn’t lashed out at him for his ‘carelessness’ like most people on this side of the island would; and he had just noticed how pretty you were, your smile lighting up your whole face.

Unfortunately, he had apparently been staring and not listening because you were now waving in front of his face to get his attention.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you were alright, because not sure if you’ve noticed but you’re still sat down and not gonna lie your hand is starting to look a little swollen.”

You both looked at his hand again, it seemed to be getting bigger by the minute and now some of it was turning purple - in your opinion that wasn’t good but the boy was still to say anything about it, so you waited.

After about a minute he finally spoke up, “I think it’s a sprain, nothing as serious as a broken bone or it would feel worse, but my dad may kill me because now I’m gonna struggle to finish the deliveries.”

“I could always help you do your deliveries, but only if you let me treat your wrist until you can get it checked out properly.” You say as you reach your hand towards him to help him up, he grabbed it with his good hand and stood up.

“Are you sure?” He said stepping back from how close your two had been standing, “I don’t want to take up any of your day.”

You smiled, “Trust me this is the most exciting thing to happen to me today, and I wouldn’t just send you back without helping - that would make me a bitch, which I like to think I’m not.”

He chuckled at this before quickly speaking again, “I’m Pope by the way.”

“Y/N, nice to meet you Pope, even if the circumstances aren’t too great for you”

Laughing you both headed up towards your house, making him sit at the kitchen counter whilst you went to collect a bandage and some painkillers from the bathroom.

“Okay I think the best I can do is wrap it up and give you some ice and some ibuprofen for the swelling.” You say as you head back into the kitchen.

“Thanks that would be great”

As you were wrapping his wrist, you began speaking again, “So, Pope, when you’re not delivering groceries and falling over, what do you do?”

“Um, I spend a lot of time with my friends, like surfing and going out on the marsh and stuff, and I study quite a lot as well to get my scholarship for college.”

“That’s pretty cool - I’ve never really tried surfing because I know I would struggle to balance myself on the board, but come to think of it, from what I’ve seen today you don’t seem to have good balance either so hey maybe I’ll give it a go at some point.” You joked, earning a huff from him but you could see the smile he was trying to hide which made you laugh slightly more.

“Anyway, what are you planning on studying in college?” You continued to question him.

“Well I want to become a coroner so forensic pathology, what about you, are you planning on going to college?”

“I am actually, I want to study medicine and become a doctor, which is why I kind of know how to help with your sprain”

He looked down at his arm which you had now finished wrapping and whistled appreciatively, “I have the feeling you will be a great doctor because this already feels like it’s working, so thank you.”

“No problem, and it will feel even better with some ice, so I’m gonna quickly grab that for you and some water so you can take the ibuprofen - and then we can continue your deliveries!”

Pope shouted after her, “You seem too enthusiastic to be doing work, should I start worrying about who’s house I’m in?”

You laughed at that but didn’t respond until you were back in front of him, holding the ice and water, “there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do work and if you keep talking like that I might just decide to abandon you on your boat, which would be a shame.”

“Such a shame” he smiled back.

After Pope took the pills, you both headed out to his boat, him jumping in first and holding out his hand to then help you in, you thanked him and then set off to the rest of Figure 8, jumping out at each house with him to take the heaviest bags. For the whole day, the two of you just chatted about anything and everything and it was the most fun you’d had in a while, made even better by the feeling you’d get in your stomach whenever he smiled at you or laughed at your stupid jokes.

By the time you had finished making the rounds, the sun was starting to set and with this the temperature was slowly decreasing too. This was starting to become an issue as you were still just in a sports bra and shorts, but you did your best to hide your shivers and instead focused on Pope’s back as he steered the boat back through the marsh with his good hand.

Apparently you were worse at hiding how cold you were than you thought because in the next few minutes Pope had noticed and was handing you his hoodie from a compartment in the boat.

“You don’t have to give me this we’ll be back at mine soon, and besides aren’t you cold?”

“Only a little and besides you’ve really helped me out today so the least I can do is stop you from freezing to death.”

“Wow, such a gentleman,” you teased whilst pulling the jumper over your head, encasing your body in warmth with the added benefit of it smelling like Pope - you couldn’t pinpoint what he smelt like, but it was really nice and it made you feel all nervous and happy in one go.

You were now approaching the dock to your house, sad that your great day with Pope had come to an end and just as you went to take off his hoodie, he stepped closer, putting his hands over yours, stopping your movement.

“You can keep it for now”

“I can’t do that, surely you need it more than me - I mean my house with heating is right there.” Moving your head in the direction to emphasise your point and also because you didn’t want Pope to let go of your hands just yet.

“No, I’ll be fine and if you have my hoodie we’re gonna have to see each other again so you can give it back, which in my opinion is a great plan, wouldn’t you agree?"

You laughed, “It’s not an awful plan, shows you definitely have some smart things going on in your head which is always promising.”

At this he just leant in towards your face, waiting for you to make up the distance, which you did without hesitation. The kiss was gentle at first but then became more passionate, you moved your arms behind his head, standing on your toes slightly so you were closer to him, his hands moved onto the small of your back as the kiss deepened even more, still being careful with his injured hand. Sadly you both had to come away for air, but you stayed close, his hands still on your back, yours on his neck, and you just stared at each other, smiling at what just happened.

“Um that was -“ Pope began,

“It was something I wouldn’t mind doing again at some point” you finished for him, still smiling, your heart seemed to be beating out of control, you had only met him today but you felt like you had known and loved him for years.

“Yeh I wouldn’t mind that either” He smiled back, not wanting to let you go just yet, but unfortunately you both had to go back home eventually, so you stepped back, ready to step off the boat.

“If you ever need help with your job or company when you’re doing it, you know where to find me.”

“I will hold you to that offer don’t you worry” he replied, “oh and if you were serious earlier about trying out surfing, you could come along with my friends and me one day and I could teach you.”

“I would love that, especially so I can see if you’re better at standing on water than you are on land,” you chuckle.

Just as you were about to step off the boat, you quickly turned around, stealing one last kiss before you leave. Moving away from him you smiled more brightly than you had in a while, leaving Pope in awe of the kind and beautiful girl who had helped him with his hand and made his day the best he’d had in a while.

Walking back up to your house, you turned around one more time to wave him goodbye, and continued to wave until he had pulled out of view. Your heart was still beating fast, you still had the feeling of his lips on yours, and he seemed to already occupy most of your thoughts, already counting down the days until you could see the cute clumsy boy again.

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch23

Yes, this fic is still being written.  No, it is not abandoned despite the *gulps* month since that last chapter went out.  

@willow-salix has been her usual amazing self with the editing (and extra amazing for helping me through the stuff that has contributed to the huge gap in writing).

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One , Twenty-Two

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Twenty-Three

Thwack

Thwack

Thwack

Virgil’s eyes tracked the arc of the baseball as it made another short journey up towards the ceiling before landing in Alan’s waiting hands.

Thwack

He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the teen sprawled on his back on the couch.  He knew Alan was only doing it to annoy him having been told he couldn’t start another game with the arrival of John imminent but it was taking all his willpower not to snap, he didn’t have the energy for the argument Alan was obviously spoiling for.  As soon as the missing sibling turned up they would be settling down for dinner and Virgil had decided he would rather deal with a bored Alan than try and drag him away from whatever virtual world he was immersed in when the time came to eat.  Except the expected ten minutes had already ticked closer to an hour and John still hadn’t appeared.  

Thwack

It didn’t make the actions of his brother any less annoying in the meantime.  It certainly didn’t help that he had a test to study for.  Where had Alan even managed to get a baseball from in the first place?

Thwack

The door to the small apartment he shared with John clicked open and Virgil audibly sighed with relief as his immediate younger brother finally showed up.  He closed up his books, giving the page a baleful glance as he did so; he hadn’t taken in a word in the last half hour and knew time was running out.

“Fiiiiiinally.”  Alan caught the ball with one last thwack and sat up, popping the ball on the seat next to him.  “Virg said you would be back by six.”

“Sorry,” John looked sheepishly at the clock that was now ticking closer to 7pm, “I got held up on campus but I treated us to take out take out to make up for it.”

Alan’s eyes lit up at the prospect of food.  Delicious smells were wafting from the paper bag John carried and his stomach rumbled.  Take out was a rare treat, hell, even eating in company was a rare treat; their father was increasingly slipping back into bad habits and didn’t often make it back in time for dinner.  Since his shift to online school he could sometimes go three or four days without seeing another human being unless he ventured out of the apartment, it was one of the reasons he could be found so frequently on John and Virgil’s couch.

“What have we got, Chinese?” Alan asked.

“No, Thai.  There is a nice little place two blocks away that does an amazing spicy shrimp soup and their pad thai is pretty decent too.”

“You went to the Mango Tree?”  Virgil’s mood lifted at the prospect.

“Yes, I went to Mango Tree.  Don’t expect me to do this every time, I just thought you could do with a pick me up seeing as exams are on the horizon and I don’t think we’ve introduced Alan to it yet.  Plus, I’m late.”  he said, placing the bag on the table on his way past to the kitchen.  

The Thai place, a little gem they had discovered within their first month at Tracy College, had become a firm favourite but one reserved for special occasions, or apologies in the case of tonight.  Virgil was quick to clear away his files to make space on the table that was currently doubling up as a desk and by the time John returned with an assortment of spoons, forks and chopsticks, the containers were already laid out.

Alan wandered over to claim his place between his two siblings, feeling guilty at the reminder that Virgil was meant to be studying for exams.  He knew his actions had been irritating, he’d even been deliberately varying the gaps between his throws so Virgil couldn’t get used to the rhythm, but he was bored and it hurt that yet another person couldn’t be bothered to show up when they were meant to.

"So how are you getting on with freight transport law?" John asked between slurps of his soup.

"Slowly," Virgil growled, casting a frown towards Alan who at least had the good grace to look shamefaced.

The interaction didn’t pass unnoticed by John who directed his own frown at Alan.  While the other brothers had, in turn, taken on the holistic care of Alan, John was more focussed on his education, especially knowing Alan’s determination to head into space one day.  Finding out that Alan had transferred to online school had been a surprise but to find out it had followed a bout of truancy had left him furious.  He wasn’t prepared to let Alan screw up his education and he certainly wasn��t going to let him drag Virgil down either, he knew this exam had been weighing heavily on his brother’s mind and the last thing he needed was unnecessary distractions.

“Didn’t you have any work to be getting on with?” John asked the recalcitrant teen.  

Alan tried to stare John down but found that his most introverted sibling had learnt to hold his own under scrutiny, at least where family were concerned.  He dropped his gaze on the pretext of picking a piece of chicken out of his pad thai and tried to sound nonchalant.  “I’m ahead of myself so I took the day off.”

“That’s no reason  to disturb others, Virgil and I both have some key exams coming up and you need to respect that if you want to keep coming here.  And anyway, there’s no such thing as being ahead of yourself on your study programme, I know you picked one that lets you submit work at any time and complete your diploma at whatever pace you want.” 

“Was hoping you’d be here,”  the voice was small and dejected, all the fight gone before it could properly build.  He didn’t really want to argue with his brothers but sometimes it felt like the only way to be noticed was by challenging authority.  He was never going to win a gold medal, unlikely to win a scholarship and certainly wasn’t going to get military honours.  With those more admirable routes to gaining attention taken away from him that just left being a problem; he had to remember that his brothers were not like his father and he could actually talk to them without needing to be summoned first.

John watched Alan visibly wilt under his gaze, crushed by the force of his disapproval and it took a moment for the words to sink in.  The others had occasionally joked about Alan being his shadow or asked what it was like to be up on a pedestal but he usually shrugged it off.  Now, hearing that simple hope voiced with such longing John was reminded that it wasn’t entirely a joke, that of all of them Alan strived for his attention and approval the most and with that came great responsibility.  

“I know and I’m really sorry.  The guy leading the seminar today was an expert in broad spectrum communication arrays and I wanted to run some ideas by  him.  I’ve been working on some theories on multi-frequency monitoring and didn’t know when I would get another chance to talk to him.”  He paused, realising he was babbling in his attempt to make Alan see that this had been important, that he hadn’t wanted to be late and really did care.  But Alan didn’t need his excuses, what he needed was his brothers.  He took a sip of water and refocused his attentions.  “Look, I don’t have any classes until 12 tomorrow so we can do something together in the morning.  In the afternoon you can either stay here and do your own work or come with me and sit in on my lectures.”

“It’s not freight law is it?  Cos that stuff sounds dull as anything.”  He knew John was trying to make up for being late home and ordinarily he would have jumped at the chance to gatecrash some lectures but he was still hurting and not ready to forgive him so quickly.  “I really don’t get why Virgil is even getting his space licence anyway, let alone for transport pilot.”  

Both John and Virgil decided to ignore that comment.  Alan had grown up a lot lately but they both  knew  he had always viewed space as the personal domain of himself and John and was still prone to the occasional flare of jealousy that Virgil was getting space rated too, seemingly on a whim.  The news of Virgil’s first trip into orbit had been greeted with a flare of temper that saw Alan rejecting all calls for a week. 

“I don’t have to take that one, although I do have a few units of my own I could do without.  No, tomorrow is nutrition and physiology.”  He noted the eye roll that suggested Alan wasn’t enthused with those topics either.  “There’s no need to decide now, just see how you feel tomorrow, but you can’t spend all afternoon on video games , if you stay home you’ll need to get some school work done or Dad might stop you from staying over.”

Alan knew that was an empty threat.  As long as he kept turning in grade cards at regular intervals and was on track to finish his diploma no later than if he had been in school then he was fairly confident their father wouldn’t even think of banning the trips to Kansas.  If anything he seemed to be keen to have Alan out of town as much as possible as his overseas business trips became more frequent.

The prospect of getting to spend at least the following morning with John lifted Alan’s mood considerably and the rest of the meal passed without incident.

xoxoxox

John quietly pushed open Virgil’s door.  The light spilled out, momentarily lighting up the tousle haired figure on the couch before it was blocked by John as he quickly slipped inside, leaving the door ajar behind him.  He took in the piles of notes on the desk and the bucket sized mug beside them, now empty of the coffee he knew it would have contained.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, perching on the edge of the bed that really ought to be occupied already.

Virgil spun his chair around.  “No, thanks, it’s not difficult, just tedious.”

This was something John could empathise with.  While they each had a different specialism and focus to their course, both had encountered topics that less than thrilled them; for Virgil freight transport law was a topic he was unable to feel enthusiastic about but it was a necessary component to his studies.

“Working  through the night isn’t going to help.”

“I need to make up the time, I didn’t get much studying done earlier.”

“Alan?” John rolled his eyes in a way that suggested this was a statement rather than a question.  The attitude over dinner had shown that Alan had been in a bad mood and he knew that Virgil was too soft to just put the teen in his place.

Virgil nodded then yawned, space law wasn’t a thrilling topic at the best of times and his focus was distinctly wavering.  The effects of the coffee were wearing off and, much as he would like another, the coffee maker was loud and he didn’t want to risk waking the teenager currently sleeping in their living area. 

“Why didn’t you just work in here?”  To John it made absolutely no sense that his brother had set up at the dining table when he had a perfectly good desk in his own room where he could have gotten on with his work in peace as he was doing now.

“Couldn't  you feel how much he  wants our attention?  He may have been a pain in the ass but I couldn’t disappear and ignore him when he’s only just got here.  I’ve got time.  The exam isn’t ‘til Thursday, I can study once he’s asleep.”

“Not tonight you aren't ,” John frowned as yet another yawn escaped his sibling, “and you haven’t been ignoring him, Alan said you took him flying this morning.  Have you gotten any studying done today?”

“Not enough,” Virgil groaned, casting another glance at the scribbles on permitted loads and which cargoes needed to be registered with the Space Authority prior to launch.  While his study time may have taken a hit he didn’t regret taking his youngest brother flying, the pure joy Alan exhibited while in the air was a world away from the loneliness he had confessed to on the ride back from the airfield.  “But at least Alan still wants to talk to me.”

“Still nothing from Scott?” John sighed.  He could see how much the growing distance between his two oldest brothers was preying on Virgil’s mind; freight transport law really didn’t stand a chance.     

“Nothing worth mentioning.”  He raked a hand through his hair in an action that had John raising an eyebrow.  Virgil squirmed slightly under the gaze that suddenly seemed far too knowing and he was reminded that, while John might be guarded about his own emotions, that didn’t mean he wasn’t observant to the moods of others.  He really didn’t want to be unloading all his concerns onto John, it was part of the unwritten code of older brothers to not burden the younger ones, but with his usual outlet and sounding board going awol being one of his issues he found himself leaning on his next in line.   

“I’m worried about him,” Virgil confided, “we used to talk all the time but now I’m lucky if I can keep him on the line for three minutes at a time and my messages go unanswered for days.” 

“Perhaps he’s just talking to Gordon more, ever since the whole WASP thing those two have been a lot closer.”  

“Maybe, but since Gordon started on the bathyscape he’s been pretty busy.  That’s one of the things Alan was telling me ; Gordon used to check in with him every couple of days but since taking command and starting his course he’s really cut back on contact.  I’m worried that Scott isn’t talking to any of us. There is something going on and  I don’t like it; you know how he can be when something’s bothering him.”

John had never had the kind of  bond with Scott that Virgil had but he knew well enough that Virgil’s instincts for these things were generally to be trusted.  It was almost uncanny how Virgil was able to sense upset and tension in his brothers and more than once during his time at Harvard John had found himself on the receiving end of a well timed holo-call or care package.

“Do you think it’s Dad?”  While John might not have been explicitly confided in before he certainly wasn’t stupid, he’d picked up on the tone of his brothers’ calls before the topic of the future had become verboten.  Even if he hadn’t there was no ignoring that fact that Scott hadn’t been attending the scheduled group calls with their father and the ire this raised despite Jeff’s thinly veiled attempts to brush Scott’s absences off as down to unavoidable Air Force commitments.  It didn’t take a genius to work out that relations between Scott and their father had become strained. 

“Could be.  You know well enough that Dad still won’t even consider a plan that doesn’t have Scott as field commander, he talks like it’s a done deal and I know Scott hates that, he feels like he’s had all free will stripped away.  If Dad has been getting at him again that would certainly be getting him down.”  Virgil picked up his mug and tipped it back, grimacing when it only yielded a few cold and bitter drips, before setting it back down heavily.  God he needed more caffeine but he wasn’t quite ready to resort to the emergency energy drink stashed in his desk and he had a suspicious feeling John wouldn’t let him have it anyway.  He turned back to the problem in hand; now he’d started confiding in John he may as well keep going.  “Thing is, that doesn’t explain why Scott has started avoiding me.  I’ve been careful not to mention the whole business to him, I’ve had my head chewed off too many times and since Scott made it perfectly clear he isn’t joining we just agreed to not talk about it.  No, I think there is something else going on, something more than just Dad, but he keeps shutting me out.”

“Try not to worry about Scott for now, or at least not until after Thursday.  At the moment all you need to focus on is that exam.”

Virgil cast a rueful glance at the hated notes.  He knew John was right, once the freight law was out of the way he could throw his energies at distant siblings a lot more freely, or at least he could until the next exam came along.  The problem was, without Scott on the team, he wasn’t wholly convinced that the exam was going to mean anything.  .

“Do you think we can do it?  I mean really make it work.  Cos with only the three of us I just can’t see how it'll be  possible.  Even with Scott it would be a stretch but without him…”  he tailed off, unwilling to say out loud what he was really feeling, that the whole thing was a fool's errand. No amount of good intentions and determination would be enough to run the outfit successfully with just him, John and their father.

John could understand his doubts.  He had plenty of them himself, none of which had been dispelled by the many calculations he had run, trying to find some tiny shred of evidence that said  the dream could indeed be made reality.  Looking at it logically he knew their father’s vision was an impossible fantasy but it was a fantasy he wanted to believe in.  He wanted to live among the stars and the venture was nothing if not noble.

The notes on freight law lay abandoned on the desk as the brothers continued to talk through their fears, hopes and dreams, unaware that the figure in the next room wasn’t quite as asleep as they thought.

Xoxoxox

“So, what’s International Rescue?”

There was a splutter as John half choked on a spoonful of granola.  Virgil set the coffee pot down on the counter and carefully schooled his features to a neutral expression before turning to face his brother.

“What was that, Al?”  

“You heard me,” the nonchalance of the original question now  gone, Alan’s voice was aggressive and challenging.  “International Rescue.”  

Virgil darted a look at John but found no help there, the latter was still wiping tears from his eyes having finally dislodged the clump of oats.  Any hope of passing it  off as nothing had been dashed by John’s unfortunate and very obvious reaction to the question.   He sighed, reclaimed the coffee pot, and brought the whole jug over to the table.  There was no way he was facing this conversation without caffeine and he had a feeling he was going to need more than one cup.

“You want me to get you some water?”  

John gave another cough and shook his head.  “No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Are either of you going to answer me or are you just going to ignore me like Dad does?”  Alan was  bristling with indignation which was coming across with a brattish pout.  

“I’m not ignoring you, I just...you threw me, that all.  How did you find out?”  

“I heard you two talking last night.”

Virgil poured himself a mug of coffee and quickly drained half of it, despite it still being scalding hot.  The thought that this was a problem of his own making settled like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach.  He tried to remember just what he and John had talked about, he knew there had been a lot both about International Rescue and the family in general, and he wondered how much Alan had overheard.  “We thought you were asleep.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”

“Look, it’s not that we don’t want to tell you it’s just Dad forbade us from talking about it.”  Indecision and worry played out across Virgil’s features at the prospect of defying a direct order.

“Gordon made you promise you would tell him.”  John cut in, a little unhelpfully in Virgil’s opinion.  “If he heard us talking last night he may as well hear the full story, now is as good a time as any.”

Alan had heard Scott’s name crop up last night but Gordon hadn’t been mentioned in relation to whatever this mysterious plan was. Discussions on Gordon had been limited to WASP and the course he was doing with CalTech from what he had heard.  The knowledge that the entire family was hiding something from him, including the brother he thought he could trust the most, came as a bitter blow, resentment that had been building for some time came crashing out.

“Gordon knows too?" he clarified, not wanting to believe it. "I hate this family sometimes, I hate that I’m just some afterthought.  I thought Gordon was different, I thought he cared.  Guess I was wrong.”  Alan could see the hurt he was causing as the words hit Virgil like a whip, but he was too angry to care., if anything it felt good to see his brother feeling  the same pain that he was.

“That’s not true, Alan, ”  Virgil assured him, trying to soothe some of the hurt that was bubbling out of his youngest brother.  “Gordon does care, we all do.”

“Yeah, well you’ve got a funny way of showing it.  I’m always the last to know everything, it’s like I’m some massive inconvenience.  I might as well  just pack my stuff and get out of your hair.”

Alan pushed his chair back from the table with a scrape and started grabbing the belongings he had discarded around the room over the course of his short visit, shoving them into the open duffel bag at the end of the couch.  He could deal with the others knowing stuff but Gordon was different.  It had hurt so much that Gordon hadn’t confided in him about WASP and now it seemed that he had been betrayed again. Gordon had made that transition into adulthood, someone worth telling stuff to, and he was still some kid to be kept in the dark.  Alone. 

“Alan, please, it’s really not like that.”  Virgil was after him like a shot, grabbing his brother’s arm in an attempt to halt the furious packing.  The blue eyes that spun to face him contained a mix of tears and venom.  

Alan tried to pull away, embarrassed at the emotion he couldn’t control, but hearing that Gordon had been keeping secrets again had stabbed him in the heart.  The hand on his arm became a full on bear hug and Alan found himself wrapped in solid muscle with no hope of escape.  He struggled for a moment then stilled, giving up on his attempt to get free.  

Virgil never loosened his hold, warm and comforting, and Alan soon found himself returning the hug; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been held like this and hadn’t realised how much he missed the human contact.  He became vaguely aware of an extra hand on his shoulder and unburied his head enough to see that John had joined them.

“Believe me, Alan, we’ve wanted to tell you.  Gordon especially made it quite clear you shouldn’t be frozen out of all this but Dad was adamant that you weren’t to be told.  No matter what Dad says we were going to tell you once Virgil qualified but I think we need to bring that forward.”  There was total honesty in John’s eyes as he held his brother’s gaze.  

Alan was slightly mollified that there had at least been a plan among his  brothers to bring him into the loop and he could feel the sincerity in his brother's words.  He was increasingly quick to anger at the injustices of being the youngest, more so now that he didn’t have Gordon around to share in the same treatment, but he knew deep down that his main antagonist was their father with his draconian rules.  If their father had expressly forbidden something, rather than just choosing not to mention it, then he knew he was putting Virgil and John in an incredibly difficult position; witnessing Gordon’s defiance and their father’s reaction to it had shown that he wasn’t beyond making life intensely difficult for those who dared to disobey.

Feeling that the tension had at least partially ebbed out of his youngest brother’s body Virgil loosened his grip and sat down on the couch, inviting Alan to take the seat next to him.  Ever thoughtful, John reclaimed the coffee pot and mugs from  the table and set them up on the coffee table before grabbing a spare seat.

“I think it’s time we brought you up to speed. There are some big changes ahead although even we don’t know when anything is going to happen.  And John’s right, Gordon isn’t to blame for this at all.  We were shocked when he said you guys never got warned before the move to LA and we promised you’d never get another upheaval like that.”

“I’ve gotta move again?”  As much as Alan had no great fondness for LA he also wasn’t keen on the idea of uprooting yet again, setting up goodness knows where, which sounded very much like where this conversation was headed.  At least this time he wouldn’t have to worry about integrating into a new school.

“WE are going to move.  I’m not sure when, but yeah, Dad’s setting up somewhere new.  Once I get my space rating I’ll be moving back to LA then, a year later, when he’s finished his course, John’s going to be joining us, wherever we happen to be at the time.”

Alan looked across at John and received a slight nod of confirmation.  “Yeah, I’ll be coming home too, at least until my space station is ready.”

Alan’s eyes widened.

“John, are you sure…?”

John just rolled his eyes at Virgil.  “Believe me, it’s better to tell him everything than have him guessing, or worse hunting for the information himself.”

Virgil still looked unconvinced but decided to follow John’s lead.  When the news had come out about Alan hacking the school administration systems he had been shocked at the youngest Tracy’s disregard for rules but John had merely shrugged and commented that he would probably have done the same.  John had been more disappointed that Alan had been skipping school, the rest of the duplicitous behaviour hadn’t phased him and Virgil had received a surprising and uncomfortable insight into a shared characteristic of the two brothers currently sat with him.  If John thought unanswered questions would lead to Alan seeking out the details for himself then he would much rather tell all.  If their father found out this conversation was happening they would all be in serious trouble but if Alan was caught attempting to go through their father’s files, well, Virgil didn’t want to imagine the consequences of that.

“I guess you’re right, I mean the whole idea can only work if we trust each other and that means total honesty.”  

The coffee went cold as Virgil, aided by John, told Alan all he could about their father’s vision for a rescue organisation with global capabilities, the aircraft currently being designed and the supporting vehicles and equipment that would be used on site to help those in need, and of course the need to relocate to a suitable base. 

The conversation became decidedly trickier when it came to detailing the role each brother was expected to take in the organisation.  Much as Virgil would have preferred to leave out the growing rift that was opening up between Scott and their father, there was no escaping the fact that the plans were not progressing smoothly.  

He reached the end and waited, unsure how Alan would react.

“So this is why you’re doing this course , so you can help get John get to his monitoring station or whatever it is?”

“Yeah, and to help take stuff up there before things go operational.”  Trust Alan to latch on to the space flight parts of the whole set-up, Virgil just hoped Alan would be less jealous of him getting space rated now he knew why it was happening.  Until now he had never been able to give a decent answer for his sudden change in direction away from engineering.  Despite Alan trying to hide it if it meant he could escape LA and come visit, he knew his brother resented what he saw as an  intrusion on the domain he viewed as his and John’s alone.  “Beyond supply runs I doubt I’ll be heading into space much.  Life on the comms satellite doesn’t appeal to me so I’m hoping I won’t have to do too many rotations.”

“But Scott doesn’t want in?”

“Uh huh.  John and I have been trying to figure out how it could work without him because Dad is just ploughing on regardless.  He’s convinced Scott’s going to just resign his commission and fall into line the moment he gives the order.”

“I think I’ll make myself scarce when that showdown happens.”  Alan hadn’t often witnessed Scott and their father butt heads, those sorts of disagreements tended to happen firmly behind closed doors, but he could easily imagine the two clashing, each as stubborn and determined as the other.

“Probably wise,” replied John.  “And you can't let Dad know we’ve been speaking about this or we’ll all be on the receiving end of those fireworks.”

“Don’t worry about that, that would involve Dad actually talking to me and he barely even registers that I exist.”

That earned a frown from Virgil who was suddenly even more glad that he only had a couple more months left at Tracy College.  With Gordon forging a new life in WASP he’d made a solemn promise to look out for Alan but what with the demands of his course and his worries over Scott, he realised he  hadn’t been paying as much attention as he should.  He certainly hadn’t realised their father had gotten quite so distant and aloof with the teen again.  Still, in two months time he would be back in LA where  he could give his brother some proper attention.  In the meantime his freight law notes were beckoning; if he failed the exam and didn’t achieve his space rating then International Rescue would be even more of an impossible pipedream.

[angelsunflowers-fanfics]

Gary Smith x reader (There are no secrets at Bullworth)

REQUESTED? [Kylie Septic requested this]

Fandom: Bully Scholarship Edition

Pov: Reader's

Genre: Fluff

Linktree

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

My movements were slow as I grabbed my textbook for my next class. I liked Gary Smith, the known sociopath of the school. I didn’t know why, but there was something about him that made me want to be near him. The only problem was–

“(Y/n)!” Gary screamed.

I jumped as I heard a hand slam into the locker next to mine. –He bullied me.

“Come on, Gary. Leave them alone,” Jimmy cut into the conversation.

I slowly turned around once I closed my locker shut to face Gary and Jimmy. Jimmy would always try to get Gary to back off, but I knew there wasn’t much he could do. My eyes were drawn to the floor tiles, my heart was leaping in my chest. What did he want from me? The scars I got at home were difficult enough to deal with…And now this?

“I know you’re little secret,” Gary said. 

My eyes flashed up to his face. Gary…He was smirking. My hands began to shake as he leaned closer to one of my ears. 

“I won’t tell anyone about the scars on your back if you do something for me,” He whispered, smirking as he knew he won the fight. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat, My breathing was shaky.

“I-I’ll do whatever you want me to, just please take a step back…You’re making me nervous,” I whimpered. 

His smirk only widened once I agreed to his ‘deal’.

“Good, pet. Follow me,” Gary ordered. 

I let out another shaky breath and brushed past Jimmy, giving him a small glance before I followed Gary back into his dorm room. Gary lounged on his bed, the smirk slowly fell from his face as his watch beeped twice. 

“Dammit,” He mumbled to himself. 

I watched in fear and confusion as he pulled out a few pill bottles and swallowed 3 pills. He took a few deep breaths before he started talking, “Okay, now that thing you’re going to do for me…I need to ask you a few questions. You can relax you know, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

I scoffed and turned my body away from him.

“I find that hard to believe,” I said to Gary, pissed about the situation. 

“Okay, you know how I always say how I’m so smart because I’m off of my meds now? Well, I lied. I started taking my meds because of that incident last year and I don’t want to get in trouble, so I’m keeping up my insane facade,” Gary explained.  

Gary was always one step ahead of everyone, but could he really be telling the truth?

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, confused.

Gary smiled and brushed his hair back with one of his hands, a playful smirk tugged at his lips.

“My reputation…Is shit. And I need your help to fix it. I won’t tell anybody about the scars if you do this.” Why would I do anything for Gary? Sure, I liked him, but he had bullied me since the first day I got here. “Hey,” I turned to Gary, slowly unfolding my arms to hold my hands together in front of me. “I’ll give you a kiss if you do it. I know you like me…I honestly don’t know why since I’ve treated you like shit since you got here, but-” My eyes fell to the floor in embarrassment as I heard him rise from his bed to approach me. I wouldn’t have noticed if the floorboards weren’t so creaky. Gary slowly pushed me back into the wall, his body towered over me intimidatingly. “So what do you say? A two for one deal. I won’t tell anybody about your shitty home life and scars AND you get a kiss by yours truly if you help me raise my rep. How about it?” I wanted to say no, but I wanted to believe that he was trying to change for the best.

“Why?” My voice was more timid than normal.

“Why do I need to get my reputation up? Well, I-” I shook my head which grabbed his attention and halted his sentence in one single moment.

“No, Well, I mean, I’d like to know, but that isn’t what I mean…Why did you treat me like garbage for so long?” I slowly glanced into Gary’s eyes to see him staring into mine as well.

“Well, you’re cute, and you’re a person and I don’t know how to act around cute people without antagonizing them,” Gary said.  

Gary’s hands quickly reached my face to cup it before he pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and sweet like candy. But, just as soon as the kiss came, he separated our lips. 

“Huh…” He mumbled to himself.

Gary let his thumb brush over my lips, analyzing my actions. My eyes were wide, shocked by the kiss. 

“That was…A lot better than I expected,” Gary said, mostly to himself. 

Before I could move away from his arms, Gary captured my lips with his once more, his hands traveled down to my hands. I felt my eyes glazing over as Gary pushed his body firmly against mine. Gary laughed lightly before he pulled away, separating one of his hands from mine to brush his hair back. 

“Wow…I should’ve tried that sooner. Damn…Okay, let’s go,” Gary said, flustered. 

Gary tightened his hold on one of my hands and led me to the greaser’s hangout. I guess he knew that I hung out with them. What exactly did he want me to do? 

“Okay, go on,” Gary urged me. 

I gave him a confused look before I stared at the hangout a little too long.

“What exactly do you want me to say?” I asked him.

Gary opened his mouth to respond, a small smirk on his lips, when Johnny and Peanut ran out, pushing me behind them. I knew how protective they were of me.

“Gary, what are you doing here? And with (y/n)?” One of the Greasers asked.

Maybe I should say something before a fight broke out.

“I’m helping Gary with his reputation. He’s trying to change,” I said. 

The two taller boys slowly backed away from Gary and turned to face me.

“You sure you’re okay with helping him? He’s not blackmailing you or anything?” 

I laughed, though this was true, I wouldn’t say that it was.

“No, I’m fine. Could you two do me a favor and spread it around school that Gary isn’t a sociopath anymore?” I gently asked so my job would be easier.

The two greasers nodded before returning to their usual hangout place. Gary let out a sigh of relief, not realizing that he was holding his breath just seconds before.

“Thanks, (y/n). Geez, they might not be the smartest, but they sure as hell are the strongest,” Gary breathed out. 

Gary quickly grabbed one of my hands before I could say anything and led me a bit away from the greaser’s hangout place. What the hell was he doing?

“Where are we-” I started to speak until Gary cut me off.

Gary stopped walking as we reached the back of the dormitories, it was so quiet back here. What was he planning…?

“Look, I need to say something before I hate myself for not saying shit.” I simply looked at him, waiting for the continuation of his sentence. “I admire how strong you are for baring your home life…And it sucks that you’re here at this shitty place because you deserve to be somewhere much better…And I’m sorry for making your life so much harder than it needed to be…Don’t tell anyone I was all mushy like this, got it?” 

I wanted to say something, anything…But Instead, I grabbed Gary’s face and quickly pressed my lips to his, it felt like the right thing to do.

[theymakemegayer]

Reputation: Chapter 1

A Poppy x MC (Bea) Fan Fiction

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance

Description: Thoughts floated relentlessly, until a thought of you found me. Poppy Min-Sinclair. Oh hells. All I want this morning was to make my days here fun. What have I gotten myself to? 

Foreword: My own take towards Poppy Min-Sinclair’s character. Come and indulge in my journey as I explore writing Poppy’s character. The plot is inspired with Queen B, but in this short story, I will challenge myself to let Poppy’s character grow into something we wished had/can/will happen.

This is a short story that will contain a few chapters. 

For any TW or M rating, it’ll be announced for every chapter if there will be one.

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

It was a sunny day, so I decided to stroll around the luxurious campus of Belvoire University before classes start tomorrow. Everything still felt foreign to me. From my daily life living in a small town – all of a sudden I need to get used to being surrounded by towering and luxurious building in this city.

 It was still peaceful not until I started to notice the glances and murmurs the people around me are giving me.

 I tried not to show in my facial expression how their whispers and looks irritated me. Is something wrong with my clothes? Deciding to ignore them I continue with my stroll.

 “I AM GOING TO LOSE IT!” A high pitched shriek cut through quietness. At the picnic table my eyes landed on a platinum blonde hair girl sitting. She spoke again, her irritation towards the terrified girl evident. The terrified girl tried to reason out, but before she can finish the blonde girl cuts her off. I stared at them open mouthed. Is this how people here behave?

 Just then the blonde girl notices me. She swivelled, her lips curled into a smirk.

 “What the hell does a basic, tasteless – nobody like you looking at?”

 I tried to play nice, but her tone and rudeness irritated me. Raising an eyebrow I talked back, “Oh hell no. You can’t talk to people like that.”

 My parents, even though we didn’t came from a wealthy family – they taught me to treat other people with respect, but they also taught me to not let people step on me.

 “Who do you think you are anyway?” I crossed my arms in front of me as I asked her.

 “I’m Chloe St. James, and I’m ranked no. 2 here. How dare you talk back to me?”

Ranked number 2? What is she talking about? I was about to retaliate when someone beat me into speaking first.

 “Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to worry about who she is. But you should worry about who I am.”

 The crowd parted as she walked into the scene. My eyes finally landed on another blonde girl. My breath hitched. Oh… wow. She’s stunning, this spells trouble to me. I realized how the crowd goes dead silence. I dared to meet her eyes, slowly her lips curled into a smirk making me gulped.

 “And I’m about to become your first and last memory of Belvoire University.” She continued. I stare at her as she talked back to Michael. They mentioned something about ‘The T’ – what is that?

 “I’d rather ask about her shoes. They’re kind of cute, for something pulled from the dumpster.”

 I raised my eyebrow. This gorgeous girl had a sharp tongue. I took a step towards her. She glared at me as I continue to eliminate the distance between us. Once I was in front of her – so close our faces inches apart - I crossed my arms in front of my chest, holding her glare – looking and searching in the depth of those brown eyes.

 “My shoes?” I paused gauging her reaction at our closeness. I swear I saw her breath hitched for a second before scowling at me. “Should I be devastated you don’t like my footwear?” I continued not letting my eyes slipped away from her face.

 She chuckled humourlessly taking a step back then clapping slowly, “A nobody like you won’t last five minutes here at Belvoire.”

 I smirked, “Sorry to break your bubble Poppy, but I love challenges. Friendly advice,” I winked at her and beamed, “Take a seat and watch me, Ms. Min-Sinclair.”

 Suddenly I felt a tug on my wrist. “Bea! There you are! Look at the time. We need to go.”

 “Wha-“

 Before I can protest or something I was being pulled. We only stopped once we entered a dorm room.

 “Sorry to pull you out like that.” She started to apologized. “If I hadn’t step up who knows what Poppy might say or do.”

 “It’s alright. I was just caught off guard.”

 “I’m Zoey, by the way. Your roommate, and this is our dorm room,” we shook hands.

 “It’s nice to meet a gorgeous lady like you, Zoey.” I said making her laugh.

 “You’re not so bad yourself Bea.”

 “So…” I spoke, “Can I ask you questions I’m dying to know ever since I walked into the campus?”

 “Shoot.”

 “What’s The T? And what’s the deal with Poppy and those people?”

 “The T is the school’s gossip blog.” She started to explain.

 “What? It sounds like some Gossip Girl wannabe site?”

Zoey chuckled. “You’re quite funny Bea, but yeah it might sound like that, but The T is big here. And they have a popularity ranking system which you should know.” She showed me her phone. Poppy was standing a top, while I’m at the bottom of the rank.

 “Okay that is some kind of shitty system?”

 Zoey sighed, “Tell me about it, but because of that ranking system those in top of the rank acts more entitled like they’re some kind of celebrity, but truth is they are way worse than celebrities. You saw Poppy and her minions walked around the school like they own everything and acts like it is okay to be rude and to bully anyone they want.”

 “I did saw that. I first hand encountered that too.” I sighed quietly, “Can’t believe an angelic face like Poppy can have so much bite in her attitude, and it’s not pretty at all. What a waste.”

 Zoey stared at me long and hard. “Don’t tell me you’re having a crush on Poppy?”

 “Wh-what are you talking about?” I panicked.

 “Oh God, no. Bea I don’t mind if you are gay, but as your new friend, please make sure you protect your heart. She’s a devil in disguise of an angelic face human. I hate people like her.”

 “I-“

 “Promise me Bea.” Zoey held both my hands looking into my soul.

 I swallowed the lump in my throat, “Okay…”

 *****

Zoey and I decided to celebrate our first day of being roommates and to unwind after that stressful encounter with Poppy in this Speakeasy in Soho. We were lounging at the far corner enjoying our drinks when she spoke.

“Hey Bea, I’m kinda curious about something.”

 “Hmm?”

 “I hope you’re not offended with it though.”

 I chuckled, “Spit it out already Zo.”

 “I did read quite an information about where you came from because of The T, but how did you manage to pay the bills for the school’s tuition fee you know specially how expensive it is here?”

 “Ah, so that’s what you are curious about.”

 Zoey suddenly hides her face in her hands. “Sorry it’s an offensive and embarrassing question.”

 “It’s alright Zoey.” I took her hands away from her face.

 “I’d like to think you are my friend now and I don’t mind you asking me things like this.”

 Zoey exhaled in relief, “Whew, thank you Bea.”

 “Well to answer your question, my family is a caretaker of a ranch in my hometown. Ever since I was a kid I remember growing up on that ranch, so the owner really trusts us for so many years already. They offered to pay for my tuition fee with the condition to maintain a good grade.”

 “Oh like a scholarship?” Zoey interrupted.

 “Yeah, you can say that.”

“Sorry for interrupting you, please continue.” She said shyly.

  “They believed that I have so much potential since I had been a straight A student since I was a kid. They’re really generous and kind towards my family. Imagine how naïve and shock I am to encounter someone like Poppy a while ago.”

  Zoey frowned, a pout on her lips, “My poor Bea.”

 I chuckled, “I guess there are really different types of people huh.”

 Suddenly a drink arrived at their table.

 “You have anyone in mind where this came from?” Zoey asked eyeing me and the drink.

 I smirked. “Oh, I have. Let me go to her for a minute Zo. I’ll be back.”

 I walked towards the bar where the gorgeous lady from a while ago was clearly anticipating for me to come back. Her eyes glint a small smile in her lips.

 “Thought you’d never come back.”

 “And miss the opportunity to see your face again?”

 She chuckled. “Come sit with me?” The glint in her eyes never fades.

 I sat beside her our knees almost touching. I haven’t really dated a lot of woman in my hometown which is Farmsville. Even though we are now living in the 20th century I can’t say that Farmsville had been liberated with same sex couple. I’m a little bit nervous in the presence of this woman, but as I stare in her eyes – like a magnet something pulled me towards her.

 The next thing I knew I was kissing Ina. Why does New York City have too many sexy and gorgeous ladies? I’m weak for that. I felt her hands circling around my waist. Her lips peppering kisses on my jaw towards my ears before she whispered, “Want to stay the night with me?”

 At that moment my phone rings. I slowly pushed her back – the spell and of magic of our kiss dissolved with it.

 “Sorry I have to take this.”  It’s Zoey.

 “Hi Zo.”

 “Bea, where are you? Can we go home now?”  I look at Ina, her gaze making my knees weak. Thank God, I am sitting right now. I contemplated.

 “Bea?”

 “You still there at our table?” I asked her.

 “Yeah.”

 “Okay, wait up for me.” I can see the disappointment in Ina’s eyes.

 As I hang up the call I smiled apologetically at Ina, “I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

 “Well Ms. No Name you clearly know how to make a woman want you.”

 I laughed before I tap her nose, “Something tells me we’ll see each other soon, Ina.” I stood up.

 “Crazy, but I guess I’ll trust that gut feel of yours cause I feel the same way.” She smiled.

“See you soon, Ina.” I winked before leaving her.

******

As I was lying awake in bed. The adrenaline from what happened today washing away from me, but my mind was still high. Thoughts floated relentlessly, until a thought of you found me. Poppy Min-Sinclair.

 Thoughts of our first encounter flashed by; and so thoughts of what I promised with Zoey passed by too.

 Oh hells. All I want this morning was to make my days here fun. What have I gotten myself to?

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

author’s note: please feel free to tag people who wants to read a poppy x mc fanfic.

[liskantope]

Hopefully this will be my last-ever post complaining about what someone said on social media, because current events are simmering down and once they’ve reached a moderate enough hum I’m going to redouble my previous efforts to stay away from it. But the particular interaction I’m going to describe seems to have furthered my progress slightly in understanding why so many people shout their views in the way that they do and how I should learn to better accept it.

One of my “closest” Facebook friends for over a decade, whose life’s passion nowadays revolves around anti-racist work (mainly in childhood education; she is white) posted a few hours after Biden’s victory was officially called last Saturday to preach that white Biden-voters shouldn’t claim any of the credit for his victory because it was BIPOC and particularly black women who carried this election (her justification for why they “carried us” was that as a demographic group most of them voted for Biden while as a demographic group a majority of white people voted for Trump), and that nothing will be better now except for who is in the White House because “whiteness and white supremacy have not disappeared” and that “your” responsibility is not diminished and “you” are not absolved as a good white person. She ended with an exhortation to bow down and “bend your knees” to BIPOC for “saving our asses”.

(Just realized looking back at her post to write this one that the phrasing was not “bend the knee” as I repeatedly misread at the time, assuming that it was a direct reference to Game of Thrones of which I know she’s a fan, and having recently listened to this insightful 8-minute Sam Harris podcast episode which used the phrase. This is slightly unfortunate since it was the obnoxiousness of that particular phrasing which tipped me over to acting against my better judgment in not just ignoring this like I have with so many dozens of other statements. I still find it obnoxious, though, and sanctimonious, and terrible messaging, and using poor arguments about causation, and reflecting an insistence on viewing as much as possible in terms of race at all times, and the epitome of identity politics.)

So yeah, after waiting a couple of days, I broke my usual silence and wrote a very polite but argumentative response that turned out to be enough paragraphs to make me feel a little embarrassed that I would take that much of my time on it. I knew there was virtually no chance of convincing her of anything substantial, but I figured just maybe some insight into how foreign and alienating this “you are responsible for what everyone of your color does and are never good enough and have to kneel in deference to those of a color which is” messaging is bound to be to anyone who’s less in an academic bubble than we are (which is, like, most people). I made the point that individual BIPOC didn’t contribute any more than individual white people did to Biden’s victory and that if we’re going to judge blocs of voters according to race we should be blaming Cuban-Americans for Biden’s loss in Florida, and that in fact Trump gained votes from among BIPOC and lost white male votes since four years ago. I wrote that implying that the only salient feature of us individuals is race is exactly what people complain about when they use the term “identity politics” and that the results of this election suggest that maybe we’re doing something wrong with our messaging.

It wasn’t a disaster. I got a very cordial response which completely avoided ad hominem and at least engaged the points I had made while clarifying her views. I didn’t find the supposed rebuttals of my points at all convincing, of course. For instance, my complaint about treating individual voters as merely people of a certain color was met with “It’s important in anti-racist scholarship to be able to analyze demographic trends in terms of race” (I would... never disagree with this?) and that focusing on individuals allows people to only look at their own actions and those of their friends and feel too good about themselves. She also expressed skepticism about my statistics about where Trump gained/lost support, which I was able to back up with a quick Google search which pulled up a Vox article among others (I thought it was only the insufficiently committed white liberals like me who sucked at Googling?). But her own views, while still resting on axioms I fundamentally differ on, just sounded a lot more reasonable when restated? E.g. “Moments like this shouldn’t be centered on whiteness” and “the ‘good white liberals’ should be aware that they aren’t as a big of a demographic in our race as they should be” (I don’t know any white liberal who would disagree or who doesn’t realize that white people vote majority Republican or is okay with that?) and that the bowing and bending the knee was not “a literal statement” but simply meant to convey that we should greatly respect how BIPOC voters contribute. She ended with providing a long list of anti-racist activists (the only one of whom I’m familiar with is Ally Henny, who I mainly remember for statements about how I’m encased in so many layers of racism that I would never be able to peel them off if I spent my whole lifetime doing nothing but trying) as a “starting point” of study.

I replied thanking her for pointing me to sources and agreeing with her implication that I should read more with a mind towards understanding what they’re saying before spouting off any more opinions. (Guess I have to make good on that promise now.) I made clear that I see a difference between her restatements and the way she worded things in her original post and suggested that some of this might even be on me for interpreting these kinds of posts more as logical arguments when they should be understood in a slightly more poetic manner. I gently gestured towards my suspicion that the current scholarship in this area might reflect a university culture (which I am very much a part of) more than the concrete priorities and concerns of the majority of people of color, although I’m in no position to positively claim anything about this. I got no response.

Anyway, in writing my last response, a little more clicked into place for me about a different lens through which I should process all the behavior that drives me nuts in a written context online (I mainly mean social media but am being even broader than that). This is going to sound condescending but ironically it might help me to have a less condescending attitude?

The fact is -- and I just have to accept this -- that making efforts to be nuanced and to “meet people who disagree where they are at” and to aim for the truth but no farther than the truth are simply not highly-valued principles for most people (social media -users and otherwise). They may kinda-sorta agree in the abstract with these principles, but in practice they hold a much lower status than the principles of conveying anger and strong words as a sign of commitment towards Fighting Evil. Some people I know do have an “argumentation value system” closer to mine, and I know who those people are -- it really shows in what they write online. But those people are a fairly small minority.

And this alien “argumentation value system” isn’t something that really shows in casual real-life interactions very plainly at all (which of course is what almost all human interactions were up until 10-15 years ago), while in contrast social media is an environment that augments its effect.

The sooner I accept this, the more moderation I’ll be able to manage in my negative reactions. I can remind myself that there’s less fundamental disagreement on most actual issues between me and the people I know: we instead disagree on a sort of meta-level issue of how one’s views should be presented. And that issue, taken by itself, seems somehow like something more minor. I wrote a few months ago about how knowing what so many people in my life write publicly oftentimes interferes with my capacity to view them as potential intimate friends/partners. Maybe I can be a little more accepting when I recognize that the things they write which turn me off perhaps don’t come from a place of such irrationality as I thought, that the differences in our ways of thinking might not be quite so fundamental (although this differing system of values for argumentation still strikes me as something that could badly affect a marriage, say). And in the practical short term, I can ignore things that bother me more easily in the future -- instead of feeling like I’m on a tilted playing field where everyone else gets to vent without inhibition while I have to carefully monitor and qualify everything I say, I can try to just round a lot of this off in terms of different preferred writing styles and somehow that bothers me less?

A similar underlying principle holds for the things that annoy me on dating profiles, what with the collective obsession with dogs and boasts of being “fluent in sarcasm” and so on. This probably doesn’t reflect much about the way the creators of these profiles actually are as humans in real life. Not that many single women really view their dogs as the most interesting thing that ever was or will be about their lives. They just choose to have a certain style of exposition about themselves because of peculiarities of the environment of online dating sites/apps, where showing enthusiasm and individuality in some way seems to pay and the topic of dogs would seem like a pretty safe place to direct this performed enthusiasm. Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t demonstrate some aspect of incompatibility with me or that I’m not going to be more instantly attracted to those with profiles that have more refreshing things to say than stuff about how amazing dogs are or of those who *gasp* actually prefer cats or *deeper gasp* prefer not to have pets at all. But it means that I can read the dogs-and-sarcasm-enthusiast profiles a little more charitably maybe?

This slightly altered mindset is a far from perfect solution, but I think it helps. A lasting three-quarters-of-the-way disconnect from social media entirely still needs to be a goal at this point.

[olliepig]

Waiting in the Wings ch 3

Finally, I made it through writing this! Many, many, many thanks to @willow-salix for her endless patience, phone calls and editing wizardry. 

As always, the full thing can be found on AO3 here.

Chapter 3

Once back at Creighton-Ward manor, the group settled easily on the couches in the private living room, Cat in particular enjoying the chance to finally put her feet up and relax after the performance. The boys had both ditched their bow ties and jackets the second they were through the door and Penny herself had changed from her evening dress into something infinitely more suitable for relaxing.

As Parker poured the first drinks for them before retiring for the night, Scott took the time to take in the surroundings properly as he had no recollection of ever being invited into this area of the building. Even though their families were close, visits tended to be for work purposes and any time he had spent there had been in one of the more formal reception rooms. He didn’t know why, but the idea that Penny had a comfortable sofa and tv like everyone else amused him somewhat. She had always seemed to him to be so other-worldly and different that it was comforting to know that she was actually just like everyone else.

After the performance Cat had changed into a woolen sweater and jeans, managing to somehow look casual and effortlessly stylish all at once and meaning that she was the only one not needing a change of outfits when they arrived. She was immediately at home in the manor, curled up on the sofa next to Scott and making his heart rate rise slightly with just her proximity.

What surprised Scott was that Gordon also seemed completely at ease as he settled himself on the couch next to Penny. His younger brother was known for being unfazed by new situations but something about his demeanour made Scott strongly suspect that this wasn’t the first time he had been here. Filing that thought away for future examination, he turned his attention back to the conversation.

“So, now we're away from the theatre, what did you guys actually think of the ballet? Did you enjoy it?” Cat felt compelled to ask, almost too scared to hear the answers, especially the one from the man sitting next to her.

“It was amazing,” Scott found himself gushing before anyone else could speak. “You were incredible, I’ve never seen you dance like that. It was a great night and you’ll like this, Gordon even got us ice creams in the interval.” “Well, to be fair it’s been a few years since you last saw me. And you’re right, you can’t go to the theatre without an interval ice cream. It’s tradition.” Cat smiled at Gordon, mentally adding another thing onto her list of reasons why she liked him.

“That's exactly what I said,” exclaimed Gordon triumphantly, warming even more to the dancer and very much enjoying watching his big brother trying to navigate a crush for the first time in years. “So, you two were at school together?” he continued, keen to find out more both about Cat and about Penny’s early life.

“That’s correct. We both attended White Lodge for 2 years - ” answered Penny before realising that perhaps the question had been directed at her friend and stopping suddenly with a flush of embarrassment.

“Until Penny decided that a life on the stage wasn’t for her and decided to go into international espionage instead,” added Cat with a grin aimed squarely at Penny.

“Um what’s White Lodge? Is that the name of the school?” clarified Gordon, realising that he was going to have to work hard to keep up with the two women who seemed to finish each other's sentences.

“Sorry, yes it’s the Royal Ballet Lower School. You go there from 11 til you’re 15 and then to the Upper School at Covent Garden. Penny could easily have been a dancer -”

“But it wasn’t for me,” she finished seamlessly, with an elegant shrug. “It’s a hard life and I just wasn’t willing to devote myself completely to one thing at that age.”

Now that Gordon knew the extent of the training Penny had been through, he could see that her graceful way of moving and lithe form had come at least partially from that time. Not that he was supposed to know exactly how lithe she was, but that ship had well and truly sailed and he definitely wasn’t going to forget the images that flooded his head any time soon.

“So was it a boarding school?” Gordon asked, dragging his thoughts back to the conversation, very aware that sitting was about to become very uncomfortable for him if he didn’t stop that train of thought quickly.

“Yes dear, so we were there for most of the year. And during the holidays Cat tended to come and visit us here so we were together most of the time in those first few years.”

“I didn’t have the best home life when I was young so Penny let me come here and stay instead of going back to the house for the holidays,” explained Cat.  “That actually continued whenever our holidays coincided even after she’d left the school so I’m very much indebted to her and her family.”

“And your family didn’t mind?” asked Gordon.

“I don’t think they really cared to be honest. My dad walked out when I was little and my step-dad didn’t really like me at all. My mum did, in her way, but ultimately she was more interested in her new marriage than me.” Cat looked up and smiled at the expressions of sadness on Penny and Scott’s faces. Her family was something she rarely talked about, preferring to maintain a safe distance from her past and it now barely bothered her to think of it privately. Somehow though, seeing other people's reactions to her story seemed to trigger an emotional response that she really didn’t want to deal with here.  

Scott caught her eyes and Cat was suddenly reminded of how sweet and caring he had always been about her history when they were together and how mindful he had always been of it when talking about his own family. Feeling an ache starting in her chest for his comfort now, she quickly looked away trying her best to maintain her dignity.

As the only member of the group to whom this was new information, Gordon was horrified that someone could be treated that way and his feelings were clear for all to see. Although he obviously knew that it happened and he’d come across others who had been through similar upbringings, there was something about the woman sitting opposite him talking so frankly and openly about her parents not caring for her that broke his heart a little.

“That’s ridiculous! Some people just shouldn’t be allowed to have kids!” he exclaimed loudly, not sure if he was more surprised by his outburst or the sudden feeling of Penny’s hand reassuringly on his arm, its presence instantly calming his temper but leaving him flustered in oh so many other ways. Which were made worse by the fact that his brother was sitting directly opposite him with a strange smirk on his face.

“I know what you mean but you don’t need to worry about me,” Cat continued, taking in the scene being played out in front of her but choosing to let it go without comment, beyond happy that her friend had found someone whom she obviously liked so much but also with a slight pang of jealousy that she didn’t have someone like that in her life. “A lot of people say that they wouldn’t be where they are today without their parents and that’s definitely true for me too, just not in the same way as most others. I threw myself into dancing so I could get away from the house as quickly as possible. It worked - there’s no way we could have afforded the ballet school without financial help but they must have liked me at my audition because I got a full scholarship. I moved away at 11 and that just spurred me on to work harder and harder so I didn’t have to go back.”

Cat risked another quick glance at Scott as she finished speaking and was surprised to find him watching her with something akin to pride in his eyes. She held his gaze for a second and gave him a small smile, enjoying the flutter of excitement that shot through her as he smiled back before she tore herself away and back to the conversation. Mentally, she slapped herself as she looked away. She had promised herself that she wasn’t going to get involved with him and reminded herself again of all the reasons why it couldn’t work. And yet she couldn’t deny that there was something there. Something that she’d been missing for a long time.

“It was at least partially Cat’s work ethic that convinced me that I didn’t want to be a dancer,” chimed in Penny, finally taking her hand back from where it had been resting on Gordons arm, leaving him feeling strangely bereft at its absence. “Do you remember we used to put on ballets in the ballroom during the holidays and make poor Parker watch them?”

“Oh god, yes! The poor man probably still hates me for that, although he did always give us flowers after every show,” laughed Cat, as Gordon and Scott both smirked at the thought of the gruff butler being forced to sit and feign enjoyment through a kids ballet show.

“Well,” Penny turned back to the boys, still smiling at the memory of their childhood escapades, “I used to watch her practicing the same steps over and over again while we were here during the holidays and it was just not something I could ever see myself doing for the rest of my life. Cat used to get the highest marks in the class in our exams and everyone used to talk about her natural talent but I knew exactly how much work went into making that natural ability work for her.”

Cat blushed as she looked up and met Gordon’s russet eyes, filled with knowing appreciation of her dedication to honing her skills. She smiled at the former Olympian, realising that out of all of them, he probably best understood the sacrifices needed to make it to the top of a competitive vocation.

She didn’t even need to look at Scott to know that his eyes would be filled with the pride she could feel radiating out of him. Nevertheless, she couldn’t resist a quick glance and he didn’t disappoint, fixing her with a large grin that left her in no doubt of his feelings and flustering her as she tried to deflect the attention.

“You’re too kind but I didn’t have too much of a choice about working hard - I had to be the best to keep my scholarship. Eventually it just became a habit and it's not something I’ve ever lost. What I remember about school is you absolutely obliterating everyone in the academic exams, Penny. Let's be honest, dancing isn’t the most important job in the world and you’re definitely much better doing, well, whatever it is you do now.” Cat turned to an enthralled Gordon and continued.  “Penny was head and shoulders above the rest of us academically and to be honest I think it would have been a waste if she’d stayed there and become a dancer.”

“Perhaps,” Penny conceded, “but I’m glad I had that experience anyway, ” she continued, deciding the conversation needed moving on and looking between Cat and Scott who had up until then been uncharacteristically quiet. “How did you two meet?”

“Oooh, you’ll like this,” Cat exclaimed, immediately sitting forward as Scott dropped his head into his hands with a barely audible groan, instantly piquing Penny and Gordon’s interest. “I was out at a bar in Richmond with some of my friends from the company when a group of guys came in. One of whom was wearing a pair of rather fetching red PVC thigh high boots,” she finished, fixing Scott with a rather devilish grin, as Gordon exploded with laughter.

“Oh, so you’re ‘kinky boots man’?” clarified Penny, somehow managing to maintain her decorum despite Gordon nearly sliding off the sofa next to her in mirth with tears streaming down his face.

“He certainly is,” Cat answered for Scott, who was still trying unsuccessfully to disappear into the sofa in embarrassment. “We reckoned it was a dare of some kind because, other than the boots, everyone was dressed normally. We sat and debated it for a while and some of the girls were trying to find a way of getting the attention of the rest of his friends but it looked like it would take forever to find out the story and I’m really impatient, so I took myself off up to the bar at the same time as ‘kinky boots guy’ to ask. We got chatting, the groups merged for the night and the rest is history.”

“And what exactly was the reason behind the boots may I ask?”

Scott looked over at Cat and shook his head in exasperation, the effect undone somewhat by the smile that he couldn’t quite keep off his face as the memories of that night came flooding back to him. Doing the best impression of innocence she could manage, Cat smiled sweetly back at him but the glint in her eyes gave her away and he genuinely wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle or kiss her. Shifting uncomfortably, he turned his focus back to the occupants of the other sofa as he tried to work out exactly how his life had reached this point.

“It was a dare I had with some of the guys in the squadron,” Scott finally supplied, resigned to his fate now that the story was out in the open. “I don’t even know where the boots came from but we found them and decided that whoever lost the next race we did to the mess had to wear them on the next night out. I was the quickest of the lot of them so I agreed but they ganged up on me and kept shoving me out of the way. One of them managed to knock me over a low wall and by the time I was on my feet again they’d all finished. So the boots were mine.”

“That does make more sense I guess,” Gordon spluttered, reaching for his phone. “We had similar things in WASP. I’d give anything to see pictures of that though.”

“Well unlucky for you, there aren’t any. And not a word to the others. Especially Alan. Please?” Scott warned, hating himself for spoiling Gordon’s fun but unwilling to have this conversation repeated to their baby brother by anyone other than himself. He had learned enough about Gordon’s propensity for embellishment to know that he did not want to take the risk with a story that had as many possibilities as this.  

“Well, I could be persuaded…” Gordon sat back expectantly, leaving his phone mercifully untouched.

“We can discuss THAT on the way back home tomorrow,” Scott spoke with more finality that he felt, concerned about the price his brother would expect for his silence but knowing that there was nothing he could do to avoid at least some form of bribery. He had hoped to keep his escapade it the boots private, something he had managed well over the years. He hadn’t factored in Cat however, which he was now realising was a rookie error.

“Well, if that's the best you can do, I think I’m going to turn in for the night, ” Gordon announced with an exaggerated yawn, bringing Scott’s attention back to the conversation from where it had been happily gagging his little brother. “It’s been a long day what with the change in time zones and whatnot.”

Scott’s suspicions were immediately raised. He knew for a fact that Gordon had slept on their journey over to England and that he never willingly took an early night if there was something better on offer and nothing to get up for the next morning. He didn’t miss the look that went between Gordon and Penny as he spoke nor the slight blush that appeared on the Lady’s face in response to it. Suddenly, Scott realised that he may have some leverage against Gordon after all and his worry about everyone hearing about the boots lessened considerably.

“You know which room you’re sleeping in tonight?” Penny checked, making Scott raise a quizzical eyebrow at Cat who smiled and rolled her eyes in response.  

“Absolutely” Gordon grinned, holding Penny’s gaze as he stood up and stretched theatrically. Dragging  his eyes away from the Lady, goodnight wishes were given along with a hug for Cat. Passing behind the sofa as he headed for the door, he trailed his fingers lightly over Penny’s shoulders making her shiver unconsciously at his touch. A cheery wave from the doorway, another lingering look for Penny and he was gone, leaving the others to continue their night.

Settling back down after Gordon’s departure, Scott was glad to realise that he wasn’t especially required in conversation beyond maintaining a polite level of interested mumblings. It had quickly turned to some of the technicalities of the ballet that evening, with Penny giving a more detailed critique than she had earlier before moving on to more general talk about people he didn’t know so he contented himself instead with sipping his drink and watching the interplay between the friends.

Penny’s formal facade had slipped more and more as the night had gone on, especially since she had become engrossed in conversation with her best friend and he found it fascinating to see the real woman peeking through. He’d always known that she must have a more informal persona underneath the layers of etiquette but it still somehow shocked him to see her with her legs curled up beneath her on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, chatting with her best friend.

As the minutes passed however, he was forced to admit to himself that he was increasingly struggling to focus on anything that wasn’t the woman sitting next to him. Every time he started to form any kind of coherent thoughts about anything, he was distracted by the sound of her voice and her laugh.

It had been clear to him from the beginning that he was still very much attracted to her but he just couldn’t for the life of him work out what was going through her head and whether she felt the same in return.

She was still catching his gaze for a split second longer than would be considered normal and there were a couple of times that he caught her glancing at him and smiling in a way that he would ordinarily read as flirting but he just wasn’t completely confident and didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, especially as she was so close to Penny. Generally, he was very confident of his ability to read people but it felt like he had a total block on understanding the one person in the room that he desperately wanted to and it was frustrating him no end.

Sitting opposite her guests, Penny yawned and finished her drink. She had been enjoying watching the interplay between them and was sure that they thought they were being subtle but she could read Cat like an open book and Scott had spent most of the evening gazing at her like a lovesick teen so it wasn’t difficult to imagine what he was thinking.

Swirling beneath her observations however were more determined thoughts that no amount of distraction could suppress. Thoughts that had her glancing over to where she had last seen the young man who had sat next to her until recently, whose fingers had seared trails across her shoulders as he left. Her sense of duty to her guests meant that she stayed until they were ready to leave. Her glass remained empty in preparation for that moment.

Curled up like her namesake on the sofa next to Scott, Cat was taking great delight at watching her friend shift uncomfortably in her seat as they talked, peeking at the door and clearly wanting to follow Gordon but feeling unable to do so until her other guests had retired for the night. To a casual observer, Penny looked to be completely relaxed but Cat had the advantage of years worth of friendship and could tell that an internal struggle was raging between what upbringing told her was the etiquette with guests and her more immediate desire.

Feeling in the mood for a little mischief, she kept the conversation going, extending it at every natural break and enjoying the sight of Penny becoming more and more desperate to make her escape.

She knew full well that Gordon’s departure was the reason but the fact that neither of them had come clean about their relationship meant that it was possible to plead ignorance if ever challenged. She was so entertained watching Penny’s struggle, she almost missed the look Scott gave when Mark, her partner from the ballet that evening, was mentioned.

She wasn’t unaware of how outsiders might view her close friendship with her fellow dancer but it surprised her to see a flash of hurt in his eyes before it was quickly concealed as they returned back to their previous studied calm. Having spent the entire evening hyper aware of the man next to her, she couldn't help but smile at the thought that it might not just be her that was feeling their old attraction again.

Despite her awareness of his every move, as the evening had progressed Cat had become more and more at ease with the man sitting next to her. Being a dancer, she was used to physical contact and, as the temperature dropped with the passing hours, she thought nothing of it when she shifted her position to be ever so slightly closer to him, finding his warmth to be comforting in its familiarity.

As Cat shifted to lean on him, Scott instantly stiffened before forcing his muscles to relax again, despite his brain going at a million miles an hour trying to work out if it meant something. He just had no idea how to act and what was expected of him, caught between not wanting to make a scene in the middle of Penny’s house if he got things wrong and every nerve in his body screaming at him to wrap his arm around her and pull her in against him.

Eventually, after artificially extending the conversation for as long as she dared Cat finally conceded that it was time for her to go to bed too. Scott, who had not been oblivious to what she had been up to agreed readily that bed sounded like a good idea and so the group disbanded for the night, with Penny heading upstairs to her suite while Cat and Scott made their way through the mansion to the guest wing where their bedrooms were situated.

As they walked, Scott took the time to admire the effortless grace of his companion. On the stage she was elegance personified but now, with only the barest smudge of makeup on and her long hair cascading in waves down her back, she looked even more beautiful to him if that was possible. How he longed to run his fingers through that hair again, maybe brushing it gently away from her face before leaning down for a gentle kiss… Pulling himself back to reality for the millionth time that evening, he cleared his throat making Cat look up at him in expectation.

“What’s going on between those two do you think?” Scott wondered, realising that they were out of earshot of anybody who would care. He felt strangely unable to start the conversation he had been desperate to have all night so he had settled on the next best thing available and silently kicked himself for it.

“Scott Tracy, you are a gossip!”

“I am not,” he protested half heartedly.

“Yes you are, and I love it,” Cat countered, catching his eyes and smiling, enjoying once again the flutter in her chest when he smiled back. “But I have no idea what’s happening there I’m afraid. She told me about a ‘Gordon’ who she had taken a liking to a year or so ago and there was something about a moment they had in a temple but she wasn’t very specific. Most likely because she wasn’t telling me exactly who he was.” “I wonder if that was when they got trapped?” Scott mused, more to himself than anyone else, remembering the day they thought they had lost Penny and Gordon on an exploratory study of the Tomb of the Laughing King as it collapsed around them. The memory triggered a flash of anger at that old coot Professor Harold for callously suggesting that they should be sacrificed for the good of archaeology before quickly dousing it with the shame of having to be pulled away by Virgil before he did something he would have almost certainly regretted.

“They got what? She didn’t tell me that part!” Cat exclaimed, completely missing the emotions playing out over Scott’s face thanks to her surprise at his revelation. She had always understood that Penny’s involvement with International Rescue meant that there would be large parts of her life that she wouldn’t be privy to, but somehow it was still shocking to be confronted with evidence of it. “Well, I guess she plays her cards close to her chest, does our Penny. Even with me.”

“I’ve never known Gordon willingly take an early night when there’s nothing on the next day so something has to be up. And did you see the way they were looking at each other?” enquired Scott, giving Cat exactly the sort of look that his brother had been aiming at Penny all evening.

“Oh I completely agree about the looks,” Cat smiled, her heart rate quickening at the sudden tension that had sprung up between them. Something intangible had just shifted and she felt unaccountably nervous, knowing that despite all her promises to herself that she wasn’t going to let anything happen with him, now her mind was filled with desire and not much else. “There’s definitely something going on. I’m sure between the two of us we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“We sure will. Well, this is me here, ” Scott admitted as they slowed to a halt outside one of the many doors. “Thanks for inviting me tonight. I had a great time.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m just glad you enjoyed it, I was worried you’d be bored.” Cat broke his gaze and looked at the floor at her admission, embarrassed that she still felt that she needed his approval. It had been years since she last thought about him before he waltzed back into her life and now here she was again, desperate for him to notice and appreciate her.

Seeing Cat standing  looking so unsure of herself, it was all Scott could do not to scoop her up in his arms. The difference in her from earlier was startling to him - mere hours before, she had been completely at ease alone on the stage in front of 2500 people, but here in the corridor she seemed so fragile that he longed to hold her tight and protect her from the world.

“You really didn’t need to be. And if you ever want another supporter at one of your shows then I’d be honoured to be there,” Scott added sincerely. He had enjoyed his night at the ballet much more than he had expected and the thought of having more experiences like that at the theatre was something he was very happy to explore. Especially if it meant spending more time with Cat.

“I’d be careful what you wish for if I were you,” Cat joked with a wicked smile, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders now she knew he was serious about his enjoyment of the ballet. “But seriously, thank you. It was really nice knowing you were there tonight.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Scott was at a loss for words. He desperately didn’t want to say goodnight but he couldn’t think of any plausible reason to keep talking either.

“I guess this is goodnight then,” Cat said, smiling ruefully, wishing that there was some way of prolonging the night. If she was honest with herself, what she wanted to do was reach up and kiss Scott, but her fear of being rebuffed was keeping her paralysed.

“I guess so…”

“Goodnight, Scott. I’ve had a really good time tonight. I’m glad we met each other again”

“Me too. Like you wouldn’t believe. Night night, Cat,” he replied softly.

Knowing that she wouldn’t forgive herself if he didn’t take the chance but steeling herself for rejection, Cat could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she reached up to wrap her arms around him. Taking a chance, she brushed his cheek with her lips and Scott felt it like a bolt of lightning. After holding the hug for as long as she dared, she pulled back slightly and felt Scott’s arms stay securely around her waist, just as they had 2 weeks previously.

“Can I ask you something before we head to bed?” he started, more sure of the answer now he could feel her kiss seared onto his cheek but knowing he wouldn’t forgive himself if he proceeded without checking first.

“Of course. Ask away.”

“What’s going on with you and Mark?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Cat laughed. “He’s my best friend besides Penny. I’ve known him since I joined the company and we’ve been pretty much inseparable ever since.”

“Ah, right. I just wasn’t sure when I saw you walking back to the dressing rooms tonight...” Scott tailed off, feeling suddenly stupid for even considering it.

“Well, well, well. Are you jealous, Mr Tracy?” Cat teased, raising an eyebrow as their eyes locked together, the smoulder she found there making her breathing ragged.

“No, I just, um…” The relief Scott felt for knowing that there was nothing stopping him from acting on his feelings was tempered by a sudden indecision as to how to proceed. He was desperate to kiss her but he wanted to take things at her pace. However, a glance down at her slightly parted lips just as she licked them as if in anticipation was enough to burst the dam he had been holding back all night.

Before he knew what he was doing his lips had found hers, crushing them and surprising even himself with the force of his reaction. But what surprised him even more was that Cat hadn’t kneed him in the groin and actually seemed to be kissing him back. Despite that, when he broke the kiss he was still quite prepared to apologise if he had made some massive error in judgement. Instead, he was met by flushed cheeks and a pair of sparkling eyes.

They stilled for a moment, taking in the sudden change in their relationship before Cat reached up for another kiss, barely brushing his lips with her own and making him moan with a delicious mix of pleasure and frustration as she teased him, knowing that he longed for more but unwilling to let him have everything his own way. His lips were perfectly soft, just as she remembered and his kisses generated a burning heat which slowly spread out across her body, leaving her aching to feel his skin against hers.

Gradually she relented to his desire, slowly increasing the pressure and deepening their kisses as she snaked her tongue along the seam of his lips, encouraging them to part. Her lips felt smooth and firm beneath his own as his world ceased to exist beyond the woman in his arms. Memories and sensations from all the other times he had held and kissed her flooded back and he felt his body respond, sending all his blood south and leaving him lightheaded.

Her breathing ragged, Cat pulled back to meet his eyes again, the burning desire in their blue depths ripping through her, stripping away any defences she had built; she could no longer deny that she wanted him and she wanted him right now. A look passed between them that they had shared many times in the past and they simply fell on each other, all caution thrown to the wind.

Scott kissed her again and again, harder and with more urgency which she met with an immediate response. Totally lost in the moment, his knees suddenly went weak and he staggered slightly as her hand slid up to the back of his head, her fingers entwining themselves in his hair and pulling slightly. She was the only one who had ever discovered the way to drive him completely to the edge and it was nearly the end of him right then. Tightening his grip, he was completely lost to her.

Cat smiled to herself at Scott’s reaction, enjoying the sensation of his hand now tangling itself in the long strands of her own hair as he drew her closer to him and pressed his hips against her, letting her feel the unmistakable bulge against her stomach. Desperately, she clawed at his shirt, pulling it out from his waistband and sliding her hands up the smooth skin on his back making him moan again as he kissed her harder while he fumbled for the door handle.

Thinking of nothing but their aching need for each other, they practically fell into the bedroom, not caring who heard the door slamming behind them.

[saharamae21]

Never Ran Smooth (Part 6)

Hey guys! SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! I’m in the middle of moving at the moment and it’s been hard to find time! Also sorry to anyone who got a message from me, my account was hacked...

Anyways here is part six! | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Seven |

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Take pains. Be perfect.

I walked with Kie to grab some sodas from the concessions stand. I could feel the childish grin plastered on my face as I skipped a little.

"Someone seems awfully chipper," an unnerving voice rang out. Rafe, Topper, and Kelsi stood proudly in front of us.

"Move," I said confidently, trying to get past them.

"That's no way to treat your escort," Rafe mocked, grabbing my arm in the process. I twisted uncomfortably, trying to free myself from his grasp. Then he looked at Kie. "Tell your boy that we know what he did."

"Sorry, what boy are you talking about?" she replied, clearly not interested in what he had to say.

"Uh, he'll know," Rafe said, finally releasing my arm.

"Bye," Kie said, giving him a glare. "Douche."

I laughed at her comment and rubbed my arm a bit. I've known Rafe my whole life thanks to my brother, but he's going off the rails as of recently. I barely recognized him anymore.

"Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote," Kie started, immediately catching Pope's attention. "Tell your boy that we know what he did."

I watched as JJ and Pope bickered back and forth a little bit before stealing glances at Rafe and his friends.

"If that doesn't work, I got this," JJ muttered a little too loud and patted his bag. I hit him quickly.

"You did not bring a gun here!" I whispered. "JJ, so help me God, what did you guys do?"

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," he said. Sometimes it's easier to just drop the subject, rather than to keep reaching for answers you weren't going to get.

About halfway through the movie I hear Pope and JJ bickering back and forth. I walked as both of them got up, saying they had to pee. I looked nervously at Kie, but she reassured me that they were going to be fine. Kie knew them both better than I did, so I just sat there quietly. After a few minutes, I noticed Kie looking around.

"Where are they? Do you see them?" she asked me. My breath hitched as I noticed Topper and his posse was gone. "Shit..."

We both got up and ran behind the screen. Kie was clutching JJ's bag. My heart felt as if it stopped when I saw what Rafe, Kelse, and Topper were going to Pope and JJ. I watched as Kie went running toward Topper, trying to get him off of Pope.

"Rafe stop it!" I yelled and ran, grabbing his arm before he could swing again. He flailed his arms wildly in an attempt to get me off of him. "Get off him!"

Then I felt his elbow collide with my cheekbone and I went down. I fell directly to my butt and began to cry. I've had the same reaction to getting hurt. My brother was often rough with me growing up and my only reaction was to bawl, no matter how childish it seemed. Seconds after I got hit the screen erupted in flames.

"Shit, Rafe. You hit her," Kelse said.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Topper said and the three bolted.

I watched as Kie, JJ, and Pope kneeled down in front of me. I sniffled and held the side of my face. I kept trying to hold my tears back, but nothing would work.

"Let me see," JJ said, carefully moving my hand away from my face. "Shit, Sav. That's gonna turn black."

"I'm fine," I said with a sniffle. Kie helped me up and brushed me off a little bit. "We should leave before the cops come." "I'll walk you home," JJ said, giving me a small smile. I said my goodbyes to Kie and Pope before walking awkwardly with JJ. He walked quickly, avoiding eye contact with me the whole time. Why did he offer to walk me home if he wasn't going to say anything. "Hey..." "Yeah?" I asked. This is it Savannah. He's going to tell you how he feels!

"Kie told me you guys heard me when I said I wasn't into you," he said awkwardly. I watched him push his hair back and stop for a second. He blocked my path, determination filling his face. "I just don't want you getting the wrong idea. You and I aren't going to happen."

I stared up at him because that's all I could do at that moment. I felt my heart shattering into a million pieces. He averted his gaze from me and stood in front of me awkwardly.

"Listen, I'm sorry if I came across in a different way, but you and I will never work out. I just don't want to lead you on," he said while staring straight into my eyes. "I'm just a flirt by nature. And at one point I thought maybe I was into you, but that idea is long gone. Plus I think I kinda like someone else."

I just nodded and swallowed hard. "Yeah, okay. Friends?"

"Friends," he said.

We walked the rest of the way in silence.

***

A day has gone by since JJ walked me home. At first I thought I was going to die because that's what your first heartbreak does to you. However, when it came down to it, I felt a sense of relief. Maybe JJ wasn't meant to be my first love. He meant so much to me as a friend, that losing him completely was worse in the long run. I came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to be awkward or immature and let this one thing affect how I acted with him in person. I gathered up all my courage and headed out towards Heyward's.

"Hey Savannah," Pope's father greeted me as I walked up. I smiled and said hello back before making my way inside. I took a seat at the counter and watched the shop flood with workers. Pope noticed me and smiled.

"Hey Sav. Gnarly black eye," he said, tossing me a peach. "Fresh from Savannah."

"Thanks," I said. In the background of the commotion I could hear Heyward talking about Pope and how proud he is to be a finalist for a scholarship. "So what's it like being a genius?"

He stared at me for a second, debating how to answer the question. "Well, it has its perks. It makes my parents proud of me. It also gives me an opportunity to make something more of myself by going to college. I can't help, but to think it took something from me though. Like maybe I'd be better with girls if I could shut my brain off."

His glance went to Kiara. I smiled as if I had just learned a secret no one else knew. "How long have you liked her?"

"As long as I can remember," he said, defeatedly. I patted his shoulder and looked at Kiara too.

"She's great, isn't she?" I asked. I watched as JJ joked around with her. "She's cool and confident. Everything she does is right. She doesn't care what others think of her."

Just as I finished my thoughts I heard Heyward come in. "Hey, Pope, someone here to see you."

At that moment, the world had stopped. Deputy Shoupe walked in with a paper in his hand. Pope was shaking. "Evening officer."

"I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property," I watched as Kie and JJ ran over. Everything seemed to go in slow motion from that point on. We all followed him out and tried to understand the situation. Then, as Pope was about to get into the car, JJ burst out with emotion.

"It wasn't him," he yelled. "It was me. He tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he'd just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit. I can't let you take the blame for somethin' I did. You've got too much to lose."

I could tell by the look in Pope's eyes that he did it. I could see the regret and the guilt building up inside of him. I looked over at JJ and saw a sad glint in his eyes. He was smirking, feeling proud that he was protecting a friend. I was frozen in shock at everything going on. And just like that, he was gone.

I watched as Pope threw his hat and ran inside. Kie followed closely after, but I just stayed out there. It's hard when you feel two ways about something. I know JJ would be mad at me if I went after him. He would feel burdened if I used my family name as a way to get him out of this. He would push me away further because of the gap in status. That didn't stop the feeling of affection for him. I wanted to be someone he could trust, someone he could rely on. I wanted to be someone he could love. I finally walked inside and sat down besides Pope.

"How are ya holding up?" I asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He just shook his head, unable to look at me. "Don't blame yourself, Pope."

"Why did I let him take the fall for me?" he asked. The guilt that laced his voice broke my heart. I know he meant it in a rhetorical way, but I had to answer.

"Because he loves you," I said with a soft chuckle. My heart ached a little. I've never had someone care for me like that. "He loves you so much that he would give up everything he has so that you can have the world and more."

Pope smiled for a second and lifted his head. The tears in his eyes seemed less and less as the seconds passed. I looked down at my hands and twiddled my thumbs around as Pope said thanks to me. Hearing words of praise always made me uncomfortable.

"Hey Sav?" I heard Pope's voice ring out. "Why do you hang out with us?"

"Well," I thought for a second. "I've never had anyone care about me. My whole life has been a competition with my brother. Even now it feels like my brother and I are pawns on my parents chess board. They only care about the piece that will make them the most money later on in life. When I saw you guys hanging out, I always thought to myself: Wow, I want that. I want someone to care for me unconditionally."

I felt my shoulders sink a little and this time Pope put a hand on my shoulder.

"Should we go see how JJ is doing?" he asked. I nodded and off we went.

The jail wasn't a spot I was too familiar with. The light blue and white cars lined the street in front of the building. I felt an uneasy feeling as we made our way inside. I couldn't help wondering what the damage was and how this would all unfold. Kie strutted confidently up to the front desk and told the secretary that we were looking for JJ Maybank.

"He left a few minutes ago," she answered politely. "His dad picked him up.

I watched as Kie and Pope exchanged a look of horror before silently bickering about what to do. My eyes remained on the secretary though.

"Do you know what will happen to him?" I asked. The lady nodded.

"He has a court date set in a few weeks and he will have to pay back the damage that was done to the boat," she said. My heart dropped. Topper's boat was worth at least $30,000. He would never be able to pay that off. In the bottom of my heart, I knew he wouldn't want me to meddle. I knew he would never ask me to get involved. I wanted to though. Even though he didn't love me, even though we were barely friends, I needed to do something.

I paced around my bedroom, trying to find the right words. My blush pink gown swayed with every step. Then I heard the knock.

"Hey sweetheart, what did you need?" my dad asked with a worried look.

"I never ask you for anything," I started. My voice shook with every word. "I never do, so please this one time do what I ask. JJ, he g-"

"Savannah," my dad said sternly. "First, wasting your time with the pogues, getting a black eye, and now this? I already know what he did. I already know what kind of boy he is. I never said anything before because I didn't want to upset you, but this is too much!"

"He's not like that Dad!" I bursted out with emotion. "Just listen to me. This will ruin his life, I need to help him!"

"You have a black eye because of him," I could sense the tension.

"I have a black eye because of Rafe!" I yelled. "Rafe is the one who hit me. Rafe is this horrible, manipulative, prick that deserves everything he's going to get! Dad, JJ didn't sink that boat. He's covering for someone. Just help him, please. He doesn't have that money and it's going to ruin his life."

I felt a stinging on my cheek. I couldn't even process what had happened. My mother who had heard the commotion and rushed into my room to see what was happening gasped loudly. She rushed to me and put her hand on my cheek.

"Nicholas!" she screamed. I placed my hand to my cheek, the cheek my dad had just hit.

"Do you think 30,000 dollars is nothing, Savannah?" he had resentment in his voice. He turned and walked out of my room. As soon as he was gone, I sank to my knees. I sat there and for the first time in my life, there were no tears. I had gotten hurt, but no tears came out.

_________________________________________________________

Tag List: @jjmaybangme

[crestomanci]

Synopsis

             “The Lost Princess” follows the story of Nick Sullivan, a girl that finds out, on her sixteenth birthday, that she is the daughter of a queen and is summoned to ascend to the throne as the princess of Combellmont island. She initiates, then, a difficult and dangerous journey that could put not only her life at risk as everyone’s she loves.

Chapter 1

           What do I know about my mom? What a tough question. Besides all the biological processes I’ve learned in school, like genetics and stuff, I only know some physical characteristics: she was tall, the prettiest lady my father has ever known, and she smelled like mint. And that’s all I know because whenever I talked about her, my father always was already drunk and I needed to help him out and take him from his armchair to his bed.

           I’ve never tried to pressure him in order to get information, though, since he always looked so ashamed of himself the next morning and I didn’t want to make him feel sad… Or make me sad. After all, the feelings I’ve grown towards my mom were migrating between sadness and anger. How could someone leave their child with some guy she’d only met once and then never tries to keep in touch? Okay, I was lucky enough that my dad was a cool guy and took me in, but this doesn’t make her less guilty at all.

           I wonder if she ever wanted to know where her daughter could be for these past 15 years. If she has ever asked herself if I was okay, if I went to school, if my dad treated me nicely… Nothing? Then, after a while, I started to believe that she never loved me. That I was a mistake she made during a U2 concert after tons of beer and that I didn’t matter to her.

I got up from my bed and decided not to think about her. The less I knew, the less it would hurt, and today I was supposed to be happy, right? Because it was my sixteenth birthday. “Happy Birthday, Nick”, I said to myself. My dad was surely still asleep and I would only see him at night.

           “Oh, crap!” twenty minutes late meant that I was late to school and this would be my third time this month. I ran as fast as I could and was able to catch the bus. Luckly, the driver was George and he always stopped for me, even when I was running late.

           “Andy again, Nick?” he asked.

           I nodded, not wanting to talk about it. Third delay of the month… This would make me stay in school after class and then I would be late for work at Tiffany&Thommy, which would not please Miss Picket. Will “I’m so so sorry, but today is my birthday and everything is nuts” work as an excuse? No. Everyone in town knew me and my dad, so it was known that whenever I was late it was because of him.

           George offered me a little red box with a white bow wrapping it around and a tiny card. “Hey, you didn’t think I'd forget, did you?”

           “George, you shouldn’t have! Thanks” I thanked and my cheeks turned red while I was getting the present, in a mist of hurry and happiness (after all, I was already late and he had taken his time to hand in the present despite knowing everyone was waiting to carry on the trip!).

           “That’s nothing, Nick. Tomorrow, tell me if you liked it. Have a great day and a happy birthday!”

           I thanked again while I started to look for a seat. The real bus to Abeley High School was deactivated because no one used it. Most of the students didn’t need to use public transportation since they had their own cars or chauffeurs, and so every single day I had to take the only bus that drove all the way to my school, when, in reality, it dropped me off two blocks away.  After spending a whole life in Abeley, I was already used to it, but I wished - as if I was about to blow my birthday cake candles - this year I’d get a car. Or that at least my dad would accept that I should start to study at the school he now works at.

I got up when we were getting closer to the stop and hurried up while going down the stairs, and ran to school.

Yeah, I was definitely late. And obviously I had to face Mr. William, after going to the principal’s office. I smiled bluntly, and then tried to sneak into his class.

“Oh, Nicolle! I can’t believe someone hasn’t given you a clock yet. I mean, we have been starting the classes at the same time since 1864, and yet…”

           I heard my entire class smothering a laughter as I gave Mr. William the piece of paper that allowed me to take his class, which was prior given to me by the principal, and, then, I went to my desk.

           Today’s history class was about smaller islands and countries all over the world. Internally, I kept telling myself that there was no use to learning all of that, once we lived in a small city closer to New York, so that subject should have been self-explanatory to us and, even though Abeley should be a school for rich people, the greatest part of us, including me, would never travel abroad. Like ever. Let alone stepping on a small island somewhere that was probably built to make money from tourists. Whatever. Mr. William had already had his moment of glory today and I didn’t need a lecture anyways, so I decided to loosen my hair and put on my earphones again, as I kept pretending that I was paying attention.

           Everyone’s goal in Abeley was to get into an Ivy League and, for the unlucky ones like me, the ultimate goal was to get a scholarship or a way out of this town. It felt weird not knowing what to do or what I’d like to become, but when people ask me about what I would like to be when I grow up, I used to lie and say I’d like to become a lawyer. Knowing my dad’s behavior, it would make total sense and that was enough to get me out of that subject during conversations, after being told that I should “hang in there” in order to become what I used to say.

           The truth was that it would be enough if I turned eighteen and convinced my father that we should leave this town or state. To build a new life in which we weren’t pity case or a subject to gossip spreaders.

           Tiffany&Thommy was a library and bookstore two blocks away from my school. It used to be owned by two brothers who have lived here since the city was founded, and I was a part-timer there. After Mr. Thommy Picket’s death, his sister needed help and I offered myself, as I needed money because my dad’s salary as a Spanish teacher was not something we could brag about.

           I apologized for being late to Miss Picket and she (with her always pleasing humor) told me to find my computer and sit down before her nephew could find the cash register and steal everything they’ve made so far, like he did last month,

           “Good evening, Nick. Are you early again?” I hear Rupert saying with his annoying British accent. He was sitting on my chair, staring at me with his weird brown eyes and dark hair.

           “Yes, Rupert. And thank you for keeping my seat warm. Now you can go.” The best solution with him was to use irony and sarcasm. After all, wanting or not, he was the future owner of that store and his aunt wasn’t looking that good anyway.

           “I don’t know why my aunt keeps you here. Or why did she hire you in the first place.”

           “Your aunt knows me since I was born, we live in the same neighborhood and she trusts me.” I was as rough as possible and then started to browse through the record book on the decrepit computer.

           He kept there, looking at what I was doing, as he was laying on the counter. I waited until he left for five minutes, but I was never known for my patience.

           “So? Do you want a book or something?” I asked, trying to smile.

           “Not really.” he replied and kept staring at me. Then, he nodded and left.

           I took a deep breath, trying to calm down, while I watched him leave.

           On my way home, I decided to open the present given by George when I was already on the bus. It was a little pendant shaped like a heart. Those in which you can put a picture on both sides. I loved it. I’m going to choose a picture of me and my dad, I thought as I got off the bus.

The weather was terrible as always and the fog made me put on my hood. When I was close to my building, I saw a man wearing a suit leaving and getting in a luxury black car that was parked on the other side of the street. I had no idea someone in town had something to do with the White House, I thought, trying not to laugh as I passed by the lobby.

The elevator was, once again, being fixed and it would take at least forty-eight hours return, so I went up the stairs hearing some of my neighbors complaining about the elevator like that would fix it faster.

After finding my keys, I saw my dad sitting on his armchair that, this time, was facing the door. He looked more tired and sadder than usual and was holding a letter.

“Dad?” I called, leaving my backpack in the hall and getting closer to him.

“Oh, Nick, you’re here” he answered and I could see that his eyes looked swollen and red. He has cried. I sighed and looked at the table, but I didn’t see any beer bottles there.

“What happened?”

“I need to talk to you. And I ordered pizza, so you don’t need to cook today. Change your clothes and take a bath, I know you must be tired.”

“That’s okay, dad. I’m fine” I claimed, feeling a little bit afraid.

He didn’t say anything else, just stood up and went to his room. I kept staring at him while he closed the door.

Ordering pizza on my birthday was almost a habit, but the conversation part… I started to bite my upper lip and picked up my backpack on the floor, but refused to take a bath. I felt nervous and anxious and waited to hear if his bedroom door would open so that I could leave mine.

When I left, he was in the living room. He had opened and served himself with a pizza slice and soda. He looked a little better as he smiled, so I sat down.

“Happy birthday, kiddo.” It was all he said, giving me a sad smile. We started to eat after that.

After I finished, I felt like something bad was about to happen and I realized he was looking at me, God knows for how long, and that the letter he was previously holding was still there, in his hand. I stopped and looked at him, wanting to know for how long he would stare without saying anything.

A couple minutes had passed, but it felt like an eternity to me. Then, he finally started:

“Nick, did I talk about your mom yesterday?”

I took a deep breath and felt a little bit relieved to realize that it wasn’t something that important after all. I was used to that kind of conversation, even though it made me sad, since he usually stood up for her in the end.

“Yes, dad, but just the usual, you know, blond, tall, smelled like mint” I remembered while I was taking my dish and got up.

“Nicolle, sit down, please” he stared at me with his blue eyes and it looked like it was an order.

I had no idea what was going on, but if it was serious enough for my dad to boss me around…

“Okay.” I agreed, sitting down again.

He looked like he was trying to control himself so that he could continue his speech.

“Nick, you know your mom handed you in when you were only six months, right?” he asked and I nodded, leaning on the couch. “Child, what I have to say is serious and I need you to handle it until the very end.”

He paused. The pizza I ate started to move around in my stomach, bothering me.

“Your mom didn’t leave you here because she wanted to, but because she needed to keep you away from the place she lived in. She had to leave you here, with me, so that I could take care of you and make you a good person. When I met her, we spent the whole week together. She told me about her world and I realized it wasn’t easy. Our story wasn’t just a concert and a single night, and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. Actually, I’m sorry about everything I have to tell you today… You can’t imagine how much it hurts to tell everything like this. But the point is: she loved you, as much as I do love you. And last week, I discovered that unfortunately your mom has passed away.” He told me with every strength he had, even though he let some tears roll down his cheeks, which he cleaned fast. Then, he took a box from the table, one I haven’t seen before, opened it and showed me everything that was inside.

“I thought that it wasn't a good idea to tell you, dear. You always seemed hurt about your mom, but, then, today I received a message and now I have no other choice but to tell you the truth. The man that came here earlier wanted to wait for you, but I begged him to let me speak with you first. I needed to tell you the whole story. You’ve probably already studied about Europe and must know that there are a lot of small countries there. Your mom lived in one of those countries. Actually, your mom ruled one of them. When I met her, she had just received a convocation to claim the throne of Combellmont and, like any 18-year-old girl, she wanted… An adventure before her real life began. Like in the romances she used to read.

“We met when I went to live in New York. She came on a trip, running away from her hotel, and we met in the middle of Central Park. It was love at first sight and we had the best week in the world. Nine days, to be exact, but she always needed to go back and sleep at the hotel, so I left her on the street corner so that the guard that escorted her would be aware of me. Until the last day, when her sister saw and denounced us. She was grounded after that and I got beaten up by her guards. And well, I thought I’d never see her again, so needless to say it was a surprise when she came back, fifteen months later, knocking on my old Brooklyn apartment with you in her arms. She asked me to take care of you, keeping you safe and sound, away from her world. She asked me to give you a normal life until the day she would come back and explain everything. That she would do it once you turned 18… I wished she had time to do that…

“Ever since, I could only watch you grow and kept collecting everything that I saw about her. Her marriage with an ambassador that was twice her age, her coronation as queen, the birth to her first child for the media, the death of her husband and, most recently, her own death, not long after giving birth to her second child. Oh, Nick, I would have loved to tell you all of this at the right time, but it so happens that you need to know it now. This afternoon, your mom’s kingdom counselor came in and brought this letter to you. You see: with her death, it would be pleasing if her oldest royal child ascended to the throne, but she’s only a kid! And as you are, in fact, the oldest of them all… They demand you there for some kind of training. And, being crystal clear: you are obligated to do this, or they will appeal to judicial measures to make you do it anyway. They can even take you by force, Nick.”            After hearing all of that, I ran to the bathroom. My head was spinning, my face was wet with sweat and tears, and I wanted to throw up every slice of pizza I ate. My dad didn’t even dare to chase me, he just let me go.

I was overwhelmed, to say the least. My head was exploding with the wave of information I’ve received and I’ve never been so shocked in my entire life. I don’t know how long I’ve stayed there, hiding, puking, crying. I was hugging my knees against my chest, just hearing my heartbeats. How come my life turned upside down in less than one hour? My mom, a queen. Country, children, baby, my dad, kingdom… Those words were spinning in my head and making me dizzy. How come my father hid everything from me? How come my mom found it better that way? And, mainly, what was I supposed to do now? I had no clue how someone could actually obligate me to do something, after all, besides taking care of my father and the house, I’ve never had to lead, or been a leader.

https://www.inkitt.com/stories/romance/748079?utm_source=shared_web 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/274223573-the-lost-princess 

[whiskynottea]

An Interruption in the 1st Law of Thermodynamics.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27,  Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35,  Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44,  Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51 Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54, Chapter 55, Chapter 56, Chapter 57, Chapter 58

AO3

Thank you @theministerskat​ for your beta! ❤️

                                 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Chapter 59. The Aftermath

You broke my heart. 

What a lie. People keep saying that, but the repetition doesn’t make it any more true.

My heart was fine. Not one broken blood vessel. No rupture of the muscle. It kept beating, like the earth kept spinning around itself without asking my permission. 

I wished Jamie had really broken my heart. I wished the pain could be diagnosed and treated. 

Ms. Beauchamp, you have a broken heart. With this medication and two weeks in bed, you should be fine.

But then again, I didn't want to be fine. I wanted to mourn. Being fine meant I hadn’t lost anything of importance.

My memories became my refuge. The happy ones, the sweet ones, the silly ones. I was greedy for more moments with him. I longed for happiness. 

Jamie sitting next to me and calling me Sassenach in Mrs. FitzGibbon’s class.

Jamie holding me in his arms for the very first time, murmuring in Gaelic to calm me down when I was spooked at the escape room.

Jamie giving me bluebells -- the real ones, my bracelet, the necklace that still hung between my clavicles. The necklace I knew I couldn’t part with.

Jamie teasing about me giving him blue balls.

Our first kiss, sweet and fiery and wonderful.

The surprise party he planned for my birthday, the cake with the tiny surgeons and operating room made out of sugarpaste. A special order for me, because he knew how important medical school had been to me.

Jamie stubbornly joining me on almost all the rides at the amusement park because he was unwilling to leave my side.

The first time he touched me on that bench, ignoring the world around us. Hogmanay at Lallybroch, when we trusted the pillows to keep our ventures private. The first time we made love, after his silly dancing…

All the glances, the hugs, the smiles. The teasing, the laughter. The way his gaze burned a moment before his lips found mine.

How complete my world had been back then. And how I had trusted him to keep it that way. Trusted both of us. 

But we had failed. 

We had failed the girl and boy sitting on that Scottish hill, having breakfast, making love, promising that they belonged together -- forever.

It required all my strength to keep up appearances. Outside, I continued with my everyday life. Inside, I crumbled. When I wasn’t alone, I found myself collecting my pieces, lifting my chin. I put one foot in front of the other and walked to lectures. I talked to people, I even smiled from time to time. Fake, superficial smiles, with light nods of my head and a silent wish that I would disappear. 

Everything reminded me of him. The couple walking down the street in front of me; my favourite coffee place that he would never visit; the Oak Walk and the Thorn Walk in the university parks; a song that we had never listened to together but seemed to be written just for us. All the places I had wanted to show to him and never had a chance to. All the little nooks where I had imagined us together. 

I closed my hands in tight fists and kept the tears inside, willing myself not to break before I was back in my dorm. 

During the first week, Mary insisted on accompanying me everywhere. When I ceased going to the library with her though, I made it quite clear that I needed time by myself. The precious time when I would lie in bed and drown in my despair, entertaining myself with my broken dreams. 

One would think that two weeks of crying would be enough. More than enough. As it turned out, it wasn’t. The moments I was left alone, the dam would break before I could take another breath.

At first, I kept asking myself ‘Why?’ 

I replayed everything in my mind. Our time apart, the ache born with the distance, his disappointment when I told him about Zambia and how he pushed himself to his limits to support me while I was there, the hurried night calls when I was out for drinks at Oxford, the texts that remained unanswered for hours when we had classes, Jamie becoming more and more stressed with keeping his scholarship.

It had all been there, and I, the fool, thought it would be okay. That we could work through it. 

I had been so happy, so excited that we followed our individual dreams and were working on accomplishing our goals, that I thought all our effort should be focused on that. The long-distance part of our relationship would be just another chapter in our story, a chapter named ‘Hard Times’ or ‘Too Many Video Calls’, followed by many, many more chapters. I had never believed everything would be perfect and I quickly realized that Michigan wasn’t going to be easy on Jamie. I knew that he needed me, that he wanted to talk more often, that he hated the distance. 

I didn’t know, however, that he believed we were drifting apart. I was sure we would stand together, blaming fate and luck and timing, but never each other. I thought we were strong, because we would never give up. He was a part of me, and I was a part of him. 

I had kept that forever in my heart, taking it for granted. And I saw it disappear in a single video call like a balloon meeting a needle.

I knew why, I did. But I still couldn’t understand how. 

How, how, how could he break us? How were we supposed to go on without each other? How could he believe that being apart was better than just being away from each other?

We had both made mistakes, but nothing so egregious that it would tear us apart. How could we learn from our wrong-doings if he didn’t give us a chance? If he quit me -- us -- that easily?

Thinking of why brought guilt and remorse into my heart. Thinking of how brought anger.

He had given up. How. Dare. He.

Bouts of sorrow, anger, anguish, and despair threatened to smother me. And then, the tears ran free, a silent statement of everything I was feeling and couldn’t put into words. Salty, as if to prove that life was still tasteful and that I was meant to go on. 

I didn’t want to go on. I wanted what I had with him. I wanted Jamie to be someone else -- himself, but stronger. I wanted him to shout out for help, to talk to me, to demand more time, to sacrifice more for us. To be content with less. I wanted him to understand. I wanted him to want me, no matter how little I had to offer. I wanted him to cherish the beautiful moments we had together and feel they were enough. 

I knew they weren’t -- I knew it deep in my soul. I had known it every morning I woke up and he wasn’t lying next to me. I had known it when I longed to touch him and couldn’t. But I had set my jaw and soldiered on. Because I wanted no one else but him.

Maybe he’s right, a tiny voice sang at the back of my head, insisting that we were torturing ourselves with a transatlantic relationship. We were young, too young. We had so much to do. 

But he can't, he can’t be right. 

He had promised that I would always be in his heart and his mind. As he would be in mine. Living without him didn’t feel right.

Sometimes I wished Lamb and I had never gone to Scotland in the first place. And then I hated myself for it, because Scotland had given me some of my favourite memories. 

Every night I resolved to move forward. Every morning I realized I couldn’t leave Jamie behind. 

At the beginning of the third week, I went back to my dorm to find Jenny there. I hadn’t talked to her at all after the breakup. I couldn’t. I had texted that I was okay, and ignored her calls after that, just like I ignored Joe’s messages. 

I had expected when I saw Jenny again that she would keep her distance and stand rigid, with her hands perched on her waist and her eyes narrowed on me. I had expected to listen to her cursing me and her brother for messing up. I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Jenny sprang out of my bed where she’d sat waiting, and a moment later she was on me, holding me in a tight hug and almost crushing me. 

“Mo chridhe, mo chridhe,” she repeated, and I felt my world breaking into a million pieces at the sound of the familiar words. 

Who would call me mo chridhe, now? Mo ghraidh? Mo nighean donn? My breath hitched in my throat as I remembered Jamie’s rough voice during our last call, desperately saying all the endearments together as if he would never say the words aloud again. As if they were mine, and mine only. 

I burst into tears and held onto Jenny, feeling her small hands patting my hair and my back as she tried to soothe me. 

It took a long time before either of us could talk. Jenny had cried too, and we brushed away the tears looking at each other for a long moment before laughter, loud and ringing, broke the silence and grief. 

It was the first time I had heard myself laugh in the last two weeks. 

“Look at us…” Jenny murmured, a smile lingering on her lips. “What a mess!” She gestured at her face, her dark blue eyes still shining with unshed tears. 

I took a few deep breaths and found my hands held in Jenny’s smaller ones. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked, and my trembling voice betrayed the nonchalant tone I attempted.

“I gave ye two weeks,” she explained and shrugged. “And ye have to thank or blame Ian for that, because he’s the one who kept me in Edinburgh for so long.”

“Jamie told you?” I asked, tearing my eyes from hers. I was suddenly terrified of what Jenny knew, of what Jamie had said. I fixed my eyes on the duvet and braced myself for the worst.  

“Aye, the dolt. He did. Not at first, mind you, but he finally confessed when I insisted he looked like shit.” She paused, shook her head and continued. “He must be adopted, I’m telling ye Claire, because I’ve never heard of a Fraser or a MacKenzie being that stupid.”

I smiled, but I was sure Jenny had noticed it didn’t reach my eyes. “He said he couldn’t go on. With the distance. That we weren’t as we used to be.”

“Of course ye weren’t as ye used to be! Back in Scotland, we thought it a miracle if anyone found one of you without the other. Ye were always together! It was expected, that yer relationship would change wi’ the distance. I even remember Jamie saying that!”

“He did. We knew that things would change, but we couldn’t really know. Maybe Jamie said that in an attempt to convince himself that it would be alright.” I sighed. “I don’t know, Jenny.” I removed my hands from her grip and rubbed my eyes that overflowed with tears once more. “We didn’t talk a lot lately, he was right about that. I hadn’t realized… I thought…” I sniffed back tears and took a shaky breath. “But he didn’t give us another chance, Jenny. He just gave up. We were still at the beginning. Later on, we may…” I trailed off, not sure of what to say. Would the distance become easier after a while? I had hoped it would, but I couldn’t be sure. After all, our obligations would increase during the following terms. 

“He’s broken, too, if that helps. Crying and all.” Jenny waited until I looked up at her again. “I’m not trying to excuse my brother, Claire. I want ye to know that I’m here for ye, as yer friend. He’s a fool for letting ye go, and he will regret it, sooner or later. He is overwhelmed right now --”

“I know. He’s really stressed.”

“Aye, he is. He told me it was painful to think of ye all the time and know it will be months until he sees ye again. He said he felt ye drifting away, and he couldna visit.” Jenny let the silence fall heavy around us, carefully choosing her words. “He feels that he’s split between two continents.”

“I know.” My voice was so small I hardly recognized it. Jenny hadn’t said anything I didn’t already know. Jamie had been honest with me. I knew his reasoning. I just didn’t understand it.

For the first time, I didn’t understand him.

“I dinna ken why he did it,” Jenny’s voice echoed my thoughts. “I dinna ken why he thinks breaking up will help, but he does. He thinks that it will be painful now, but in the long run, this will be for the best. Ye have a lot of years ahead of you, Claire.”

A long, heavy sigh left me deflated. 

“Do you believe that? Will the pain get easier?”

“Time is the best healer, don’t they say so?” Jenny asked with a small smile. Seeing me shrug, she took my hands in hers again. “I wish I knew the answer, Claire. I wish I knew the best advice to give ye. But I don’t. If Ian did the same, I would personally fly over to the US to assassinate him. But everything has always come easy for Ian and me. We’ve never been apart for long.”

“You’re lucky,” I murmured. “I wished that for us, too. I still do, sometimes. But then I think…” I bit my lip, smiling wistfully. “Jamie and I went through a challenge and instead of coming out of it stronger, we let it break us. Maybe we weren’t meant to be, we weren’t good enough together.” I couldn’t look at Jenny anymore. I fixed my eyes on the window, on the darkness outside that mirrored the one inside my heart.

“No,” Jenny shook her head emphatically. “Claire, ye ken I’m no’ a romantic. Being in a long-distance relationship is hard, and having a whole ocean between ye isna easy to overcome. Couples are meant to be together, close to each other. No matter how much ye love him or he loves ye, living in different continents isna normal. It isn’t just a challenge or something ye should go through. But ye had faith enough to try it, because ye both had dreams and it was worth taking the risk. Yer love was worth it.” Jenny squeezed my hands, and I saw regret in her eyes. “Timing is important, Claire. It’s half the deal. Ian would have never kissed me if I was seeing another lad at that time. Ye and Jamie…” Jenny’s shoulders dropped in resignation. “I thought ye were forever, I was sure of it. And then my idiot brother goes and does this…”

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe everything gets better with time. Maybe we should appreciate the beautiful thing we had and go on.” I spoke the words in a passive voice, believing none of them. Said them out loud, mostly to hear them myself.

“Maybe,” Jenny agreed. “And maybe not. Maybe ye’ll find each other again.” My heart skipped a bit, but I knew Jenny wouldn’t say more. I would never know whether that was her thoughts or her brother’s. “But in any case,” she continued, “Ye have to stop crying your heart out, Claire. Find yourself again. Give the amazing person ye are a chance. And maybe, with time, the pain will become just a dull reminder. Dinna lock yerself in this room thinking of my brother.”

“Everything reminds me of him.” I didn’t plan to say it, but there it was, out in the open. The reason I couldn’t function properly. The reason I avoided everybody. The reason I wasn’t myself. I didn’t know how to be myself without him.

“I swear…” Jenny grunted. “I swear I will kill him.” 

“Well that wouldn’t be good sisterly behavior, would it?” I asked, the corners of my mouth curling up in a smile. The tears that rolled down my cheeks reached my smiling lips in a bittersweet symphony.

This life, I thought, not sure how The Verve got into my head.

“I told ye, some time ago, that ye’ll be my sister whether ye’re my brother’s girlfriend or no. Right now, I want to be a good sister to ye.” Jenny hugged me again, her arms solid and sure around my frame. “I love ye, Claire. I wanted to be sure ye ken it.”

“I do,” I said, sniffling back more tears. “I love you too, Jenny Fraser. The best of the Frasers.”

“What about my da?” she asked, echoing our conversation from months ago, and for the second time that evening, we burst into laughter. 

Jenny took the last train to Edinburgh that night. Two days later, I ventured out to the library again, thinking that medical textbooks couldn’t possibly have anything to remind me of Jamie. When I returned to my dorm, I found Mary, Malva and Davie waiting for me in front of my door.

“Dissection Drinks,” Malva announced, taking the books from my arms. “I’ll just leave them inside and we leave.”

“What?” I looked at her as she disappeared, and then raised both eyebrows at Mary and Davie. “I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“Because you didn’t,” Davie said, smiling. 

I turned to Mary, who was looking at me through wide, guilty eyes. “Jenny told me not to let you soak in your misery,” she tried to explain. “She made me promise.”

Jenny. Of course. Just a short visit wasn’t enough, she had to put my life in order even in her absence.

“Right. I need to make a call.”

Davie laughed. “No matter how many calls you make, Claire, you’re coming with us tonight. We’ve missed you, red-rimmed eyes and all.”

I rolled my eyes at the sight of him batting his eyelashes at me. 

“Ready to go!” Malva reported from the hallway, and we left.

Three hours and a few glasses of wine later, I felt lightheaded and realized that smiling had gotten easier. A few older students were discussing types of surgical sutures and techniques, and I focused on memorizing the information for further research, when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I moved to the side, thinking that I was in someone’s way, but the tapping continued. 

“Why, Miss Bennet, you won’t deign to talk to us now?” The words hid a smirk I knew all too well, and danced in a light French accent. I turned around and smiled, even before I saw him. Robert, just as I remembered him, minus the dust and heat.

“How did you know it was me?” I asked, frowning.

He glanced at my hair, unruly curls flying around my head, wild with humidity. I resisted the urge to pat them down, as I always did in his presence. It was as if we were back in Zambia.

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he replied with a cocky grin. “Exquisite hair.”

I laughed and pushed him lightly on the shoulder. “Still a prat, I see.”

“Always. I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

Sure that by now I had missed the important arguments in the conversation about sutures, I decided to catch up with Robert instead. 

I hadn’t expected it, but it was nice to see him. A familiar face from my life before Oxford. A part of my past that hadn’t changed. 

And for a night, while talking to Robert, I could pretend that I was still happy.

Chapter 60

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Artistic Merit

Rated: E

Artistic Merit

Ever since starting her scholarship to the art college, Belle had made no secret of her fascination with erotic art. She had always loved the idea of making the unseen seen, of taking private moments and putting them on public display, showing the world that there was no shame in the joys of sex and intimacy, and normalising it into something that was commonplace and yet still had the capacity to entice and excite.

Indeed, after years of studying the subject, Belle could still feel her pulse quicken when she looked at a particularly sensual piece, and more than once she had found her fingers creeping down towards the apex of her thighs in the most unlikely of places as she worked and researched.

Naturally, when she’d found out about the exhibition at the local gallery, which would include a showcase from one of her own professors, no less, she’d jumped at the chance to uncover more art and new ways of painting pleasure onto paper, and whatever other media she could find.

Belle walked slowly through the pieces, drinking in the atmosphere and feeling the first embers of desire begin to burn between her legs. The images were truly beautiful, and Belle found herself thinking about them from the other side of the camera or paintbrush. What would it be like to pose for such artwork? To perform such acts of love and self-pleasure for the silent artist audience. It was one thing to view art after it was made, but to be a part of its making was quite another.

She had purposefully left Professor Gold’s area of the exhibition until last, knowing that he would be there, and that she would want to speak to him about it. He was standing off to one side as she entered his room, speaking to someone Belle recognised as one of the gallery owners. He acknowledged her with a nod, and she fell to admiring his work.

There was a dream-like, fairy-tale quality in Gold’s painting, which only added to the allure of his work, and it matched perfectly to his subject matter. The main centrepiece of his exhibition was a series of erotic illustrations of classic tales. Red Riding Hood was riding her wolfman, head thrown back in ecstasy as her red cloak slipped to show a peek of bare nipple. The beast was transformed back into a man with his beauty’s love, kneeling naked and vulnerable before her. The little mermaid explored the new bits between her new legs as she stood on the beach in the moonlight.

Belle felt the all too familiar pull of arousal in her belly, and she shifted her hips, feeling wet on her gusset already.

“What do you think?” Gold came over to her, holding out a glass of champagne. Belle had already had one when she’d first arrived – it was cheap and acidic, but she accepted gratefully, hoping that it would stop her being tongue-tied. She’d had a little bit of a crush on her professor since the start of her course, but now that she was here, with him and all of his erotic work, it had developed into something much hotter and more full-bodied.

“I like it,” she said. “I like how the women are all in control and owning their sexual agency. It would be so easy to have something like the princess chained up naked in the dragon’s tower or something like that, but you allow these women to enjoy sex and to own their nudity.”

“A woman’s sexuality is an incredibly powerful thing,” Gold said. “Why do you think that everyone has always tried so hard to suppress it?”

Belle nodded her agreement. “Yes, that is an excellent point.” She looked again at the pictures. “No Snow White or Sleeping Beauty?”

“Slight consent problem there, trying to make those ones erotic. Especially considering the original Grimm tales.”

“What about Cinderella?”

Gold chuckled. “You’re very welcome to continue the series yourself if you wish. I’m happy to accept a collaborator.”

“No, I don’t think it would be the same, not being in your style. Mine’s bolder, yours is more delicate. It wouldn’t work. But…” Belle’s heart leapt to her mouth, unable to believe she was even thinking about making the suggestion. “I’d be happy to be your muse. I’d give you the ideas and pose for them, and you could put them into paintings for me.”

Gold looked at her, his expression unreadable.

“You’d pose for my erotic art?” he asked. There was a huskiness in his voice, a note of desire.

“I’ve posed nude for life drawing classes before,” Belle said.

“Ah, but this is very different.”

“I’m counting on it, Professor Gold.”

There was barely an inch between them now, and Belle could see the flecks of deep gold in his chocolate brown eyes.

“In that case, I’d be happy to accept your proposal,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, and Belle knew that they were talking about so much more than just posing for pictures. “My studio’s only a few minutes’ walk away, and I might expire from boredom if I have to spend any more time with these pretentious idiots.” He looked over his shoulder at the gallery owner. “Shall we get started right away?”

Belle nodded. “That sounds like an excellent idea to me.”

They left the gallery together, and they did not speak much as they covered the short distance to Gold’s studio. It was as if they both knew that the moment would only really begin once they were inside the space where the art would occur.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Gold asked. “Tea or coffee, perhaps, to counteract that rank excuse for champagne that they were serving at the gallery?”

“Tea sounds lovely, thank you.” Belle hung up her coat as Gold went over to the small kitchen area in the corner of the studio, filling the electric kettle and getting mugs and teabags. Belle had never been inside Gold’s studio before, and she wanted to treat this privileged occasion with the proper respect. There were all sorts of things lying around, props and furniture that models had posed with in the past, and of course, his actual works. She looked at the easel where a half-completed painting sat. It was another of the fairy tales, although it was not worked enough for Belle to identify it.

“It’s going to be the Princess and the Frog,” Gold called from the kitchen. “When I finish she’ll be wearing strategically placed lily pads over her essentials.”

Belle laughed as he brought the tea over, and she took a grateful sip. “How many will you do?”

“As many as strike my imagination. Of course, that may be more if you start giving me ideas as well. So…” He led her away from the easel to sit down on an old chaise longue. “Tell me about your vision of Cinderella.”

“Oh, it sounds so stupid now.” Belle looked into the depths of her tea, asking it to give her courage. “I just thought about the prince having a foot fetish.”

Gold gave a snort of laughter, but his dark eyes were in earnest, and Belle thought she could feel them staring into her very soul. God, part of her wanted to throw him down on this chaise and ride him as proudly as Red Riding Hood in her painting.

“Go on,” he said softly.

“They’re in the palace garden,” she said, her eyes never leaving Gold’s. “The clocktower in the background is showing quarter to midnight, or something like that.”

Gold put down his mug and grabbed a sketchpad, his pencil flying over the paper as he roughly outlined her vision.

“Yes?”

“They’re both naked, apart from the glass slippers. She’s sitting on a bench, or a swing seat, or something, and he’s sitting on the ground below her, worshipping her feet in these slippers. She’s enjoying it. Maybe touching herself whilst he’s preoccupied.”

“I see.” Gold’s thumbnail sketch continued to take shape, and Belle had to gasp at how much just the rough outlines were turning her on. Finally, he stopped, putting the sketchpad down between them.

“Something like that?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“That’s perfect,” Belle breathed.

“And you’d like to strike a pose for this?”

Belle nodded, putting her mug down on the floor beside Gold’s and standing up to unzip her dress, letting it fall to her ankles and kicking it off to one side. She’d gone braless beneath it, and her nipples hardened in the cool air of the studio, making her shiver. She rubbed her fingers over the little buds and moaned, before peeling her panties down her legs.

She left her shoes on, putting her hands on her hips and giving Gold her most sultry pout, letting him look his fill at her, hips pushed forward.

“Am I a good enough model for you, Professor Gold?”

“I don’t think there’s ever been a better one.”

She sat back down, hiking one heel up onto the chaise as she let her legs loll open, spreading her nether lips and touching herself languidly, although she could already feel the sweat beginning to shine on her skin. There was a ready wetness gathering at her entrance, and she rubbed it gently along her folds, circling her clit.

“Would this do?”

“Perfectly, Belle.” Gold was mesmerised by her, unable to tear his eyes away as he stood and began to undress until he was as unashamedly naked as she was. He was erect already, his cock jutting proudly in front of him, and he gave himself a couple of hard tugs as he knelt on the floor before her.

“Every princess needs her adoring prince,” he rasped, kissing along her inner thigh. “Not a foot man myself, though. No, I’m far more interest in this.”

He moved her hand and licked a stripe along her cleft, lapping eagerly at her swollen pearl. Belle cried out at the sensation, nails scrabbling for purchase on the back of the chaise as Gold continued to kiss and lick at her, now pushing his tongue into her entrance, now nuzzling at her patch of close trimmed hair, now flicking the tip of his tongue over her clit and making her scream again.

“Gold!”

He laughed, the sound vibrating against her over-sensitised folds, and he slipped one leg up over his shoulder, bringing him in closer. A finger pushed inside, curling in just the right place as his tongue kept up the relentless teasing of her clit.

Belle didn’t know what she yelled as the dam broke and she came apart for him. She only hoped that the other studios in the building weren’t occupied at this time in the evening. She came back down to herself as Gold pulled his finger out and let her leg slip down, sitting back on his heels and wiping his face clean, licking her juices off his hand.

“Much better than the champagne.”

“I’m glad you think so. Although now, I think it’s your turn.” She reached out, brushing her fingertips over the head of his cock as he got back to his feet. “Time for some adoration of your own.”

Gold sat back on the chaise beside her, and Belle leaned over his lap, gripping his cock tightly and taking the head in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and over it as she pumped his shaft.

“Sweet Jesus, Belle.” His hand tangled in her hair, and a glance upwards showed his eyes were closed, head thrown back with pleasure. She brought her other hand down to cradle his heavy balls, rolling them in her palm. “Fuck, Belle, I’m going to come!”

Belle let him slip from her mouth, giving him a couple of firm strokes to finish him off and make him come undone for her; he swore as he spurted over her hand.

For a long while they sat slumped on the chaise in the cooling, until Belle chanced to lean in and press her lips tentatively against Gold’s. Strange that they should share such carnal delights before even kissing, but Gold accepted her eagerly, pulling her in closer and running his hands gently over her bare back.

“You know,” Belle said, once they finally broke apart, “I have plenty more ideas for new paintings for you.”

Gold just growled, pulling her in for another kiss, and Belle smiled against his mouth. This was going to be the beginning of a wonderful partnership.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Coffee and A Wedding? Chapter 1

Ello! This week’s Tuesday update is the start of a very long and very late birthday gift to @winterisakiller and @alexakeyloveloki. Ever wonder how many tropes Kit can fit in one series? Better get counting. Ever wonder what Kit uses her extensive coffee knowledge for? This. 

We’re looking at weekly updates on most Tuesdays unless I fill the slot with a one shot. Please do enjoy.

This has made me nostalgic for a man I used to know. He was much older than Clint is in this series but he reminds me a lot about Clint. I think Clint would run a cafe the same way this man ran his. This man taught me everything I know about coffee and is the reason I can’t drink Starbucks and examine the machine before ordering a espresso drink. This man almost gave me his cafe when he retired. Here’s to you, Mr. Green. 

Warnings: Fucking trope-tastic. Eventual smut. Some light angst toward the end. 

Rating: M for eventual smut

Pairing: Clint x ofc, written first person.

Summary: Look, it’s perfectly normal to have a crush on your boss at some point in your life. You can’t tell me you hadn’t had it happen to you, can you? And Don’t tell me you haven’t made up an imaginary boyfriend to tell your family you had while you were away at college so they would stop nagging you, right? Perfectly normal. And surly you’ve based that imaginary boyfriend off your boss/crush, yeah? It’s normal, we’ve all done it once or twice. How was I to know that my sister would show up at the Arrowpoint Coffee to hand deliver our invitations to her wedding with our names printed in pretty swirly golden lettering right into the hand of my ‘boyfriend’. “Oh, I’m so pleased to meet the man treating my little sister so well.” Yeah, I bet you are. “I loved that date you took her on to a movie in the park! So thoughtful!” Yeah, I know you did. Thanks Sarah for letting the cat out of the bag but thank god Clint can roll with the punches. Now, we’ve got to go to a wedding together and pretend to be a couple and he won’t. Stop. Flirting. With. Me. Is this all a joke to you? I KNOW you just see me as a kid who works for you!

Tropes I’m hitting so far: Fake dating, weddings, age difference and so much more. Have a trope you want to see me try to work into this series? Let me know! Seriously, Let Me Know- I’m trying to hit as many as I can and sorry, the are not roommates.

Coffee and a Wedding

I thought of myself as forgettable and that was just all right by me. Even my name was forgettable, at least in my own opinion. It was easier to focus on your schoolwork when everyone sort of just forgot about you. I was lucky to get into a prestigious University and while uprooting my life was a logistic challenge, it didn’t feel like I was leaving a whole lot behind in order to chase the opportunity provided by a full Stark Scholarship.

The money covered all of my school expenses so long as I managed to keep my grades up so in the end, I did a lot of studying. School was expensive for anyone and this school- it was expensive no matter who you were. If Tony Stark and his company want to pay for me to go, I was going to keep it that way. When I wasn’t studying- I was working. The scholarship paid a portion of my rent after school expenses but that was it.

My family didn’t approve of my choice to study biology over medicine and so there was no help from them. It was the need for social interaction from someone not studying all the time like my classmates that drove me to choose a job working in a cafe. Well, that and the oddly decent pay. What can I say? I had quickly grown tired of eating cardboard noodles and beef flavored salt packets.

  From where I stood behind the counter while working, I could see the rise of Stark Tower in the distance. It made me smile, seeing it. The Tower was a marvel of technology and Eco-efficiency, having been off the electric grid for over a month now and showing no signs of failure in it’s power system. While I had no passion for engineering- Biology was where my heart was, I still was fascinated by it.

While the socialization I got working at the cafe was enough to keep me happy, my family was still prone to worrying. They were old fashioned at best, viewing a woman as incomplete without a romantic attachment and I had none. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in anyone, just that I was forgettable and he was both older than me and far too handsome for me to catch his eye. He probably just saw me as one of the kids he hired anyway.

It seemed harmless enough when it first started. Mom would ask me if there was anyone and I’d talk about a man who had his shit together, who treated me right. He had bright blue eyes and soft brown hair that bleached in the sun, giving it a warm golden glow. At first he was just a guy I liked but my family pushed for more.

Ask him out. Are you flirting with him? Make sure you do your hair up nice. Don’t go to class frumpy. Have you kept with your diet? Have you been flaunting your assets? They would remind me again and again that you had to hook a man if you wanted him. Such was not my way, however. I was far too timid to make the first move. And while my family thought he was a classmate though he was older than me, in truth he was my boss.  

It seemed harmless enough as I modeled this man who went from crush to camera shy boyfriend after the owner of the cafe I had been working at. It’s not as if anyone would ever find out. My family would never come out to the city to check up on me and he could be busy when I came home to visit. They could break up and I would be allowed peace while heartbroken. They never had to know and there was no way he would find out. My crush would stay private and they would be off my back for a while. Plus, I could live in the fantastic fantasy of being his girlfriend for a bit.

No one had to know it wasn’t real.

  While I sat by the window in the cafe, sipping at a mocha with the phone pressed to my ear, I listened to mom as she went on and on. In truth, I was only paying partial attention to the words being spoken from halfway across the country.

He was in today, as he was every Saturday. He said he worked them because he had nothing better to do and wanted to allow the kids who worked for him to take turns enjoying their weekends. It was because he worked every weekend that I made a point to offer to work them as well.

“You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?” My mother asked.

“Mhm” I really didn’t want to go, truth be told. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Sarah get married, it was just that I really didn’t want to go back home. Small town gossip would surely claim me as it’s victim yet again.

“You’ll bring that boy you’re seeing, won’t you? What was his name?”

“Clint Barton.” Instantly, I realized my mistake. I hadn’t been thinking. I couldn’t help it, I was too busy looking at him and just blurted out his name. That was how my family got the last name of the man I was secretly in love with.

Still, it was a big city. It’s not like my sister Sarah would hunt down the cafe I worked at by piecing together clues from what little she was able to see about where I worked from the few pictures she had access to in the next week, right?

  I was tired. Somehow I thought it was a good idea to stay up all night studying and truth be told, I was pretty sure I had forgotten to eat all of the day before. I was so damn tired but it was Saturday and I wouldn’t be calling out though Clint wouldn’t have minded.

He had always made a point to tell all the students working for him that our health came first. Our grades came first. We were all trying to make something of ourselves and he respected that. He would say that we didn’t want to end up working in cafes all of our lives like him. He would say as if his cafe wasn’t successful enough to provide a decent enough life for him.

“Good Morning.” I was surprised to turn and see him jogging up behind me as I made my way toward the cafe. Normally he would have already been in the shop by four in the morning to open at five.

“Good Morning, Mr. Barton.” He rolled his eyes at me.

All of his employees called him ‘Mr. Barton’ regardless of his protests. We called him so out of respect for him and all the support he offered us. Many of his employees lacked support from their families for whatever reasons and so he took them in, called them his family. Some were turned out for their sexuality, others for how they wished to identify themselves. There was a girl who’s parents thought her too dumb to be a doctor yet she was starting medical school in the fall and Clint was eager to enrage her each step of the way.

“Clint. My name is Clint.” With a shake of his head, he tried to hide the smile on his face.

“You’re running late?”

“I can’t be late.” He protested, strong hand dramatically held to his chest. The flair for dramatics he often showed always made my heart flutter, though I’d never tell him that. “I own the place.”

“Right.” He smiled down at me as I laughed. The way he looked at me, if I indulged in just a moment of daydreaming while we walked, I could pretend we were on our way to an early morning coffee date.

The weight of his hand settled on my shoulder as we stopped in front of the cafe. He looked at me, studied me and for a moment I feared my crush was written on my face. “Alexis? You look...” Beautiful? Radiant? Like a fire pixie? A dream come true? His soulmate? A girl could hope. “Exhausted. Do you want the day off?”

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear but I wasn’t surprised at all.

“I’m fine, really.” I may just be an employee to him, too young for him to even notice I was sure but still, I didn’t want to miss out on a Saturday morning with him.

“Have you eaten?” As much as I wanted to believe it, I just knew he was asking as a boss, a big brother figure to all his employees and not because I was any more special than any other employee. I didn’t want him to see me as just another employee, a little sibling like he calls all of his employees.

Clint opened the door for me, keyed off the alarm and flipped the lights. “I’m fine. I was just going to grab something on my break.”

“What if…?” He hummed.

“What if what?” I set about taking the chairs off the tables, trying to pretend that I couldn’t feel his eyes on me.

“What if we call in a breakfast order at the diner?” He offered from where he was checking the display case’s temperature readings. “My treat.”

He was always doing things like this for his employees. While we had packaged sandwiches and snacks, he rarely let his employees eat the cafe’s food. I knew better than to try and argue out of it. Still, I didn’t want to leave him to open by himself when he had gotten in late. He wouldn’t hear any of it though and before I knew it, I was set off with a few twenties while Clint opened the cafe on his own.

  Saturday mornings tended to be slow until around seven. The diner was open 24 hours and the early morning breakfast pick up orders were nothing new to them. I often wondered if Clint ever made his own food. He would have food delivered to the back door, if not for the whole staff, at least for himself.

I expected to come back to the cafe with a bag containing the two takeout containers like it was nothing. Admittedly, I was a bit excited about the prospect of maybe getting to sit down with Clint and eat. We’d likely have to take turns getting up and helping customers but it was something. Sure, still not a breakfast date but it was as close as I’d ever get.

The fall air was crisp and the leafs crunched under my feet. It was a good morning, really. The door was cool under my fingers. It opened smoothly, as it did any other time. Clint maintained every inch of the cafe almost obsessively. His employees would joke when he wasn’t around that he was single because of his love of coffee and his love of the cafe. It wasn’t anything he would argue. Clint himself had often said he was married to his shop and that he needed nothing but coffee to survive.

“Babe, you didn’t tell me your sister was going to be in town.” Clint’s voice called out as soon as I stepped through the door. “If I’d known, I would have ordered breakfast for three.”

Turning, I looked around the cafe. Surely I had stepped into some alternate reality. “Mr. Barton?” It took a moment longer for me to realize that Sarah was standing at the counter.

“Come on now, Babe- no one else is in yet.” The smile on his face was memorizing. He was giddy almost as he made his way around the counter. My heart stopped as I realized, Clint Barton called me ‘babe’ twice now. He was making a point. He knew my secrete, at least part of it.

“Sarah, I didn’t know you were coming…” It was a surprise to say the least. “Why didn’t you call? I could have taken the day off.”

“She brought us an invite to her wedding.” Clint held up the ivory colored paper, our names neatly printed in looping gold ink as if it were a prize.

“Of course she did.” I tried not to groan.

“I should let you two get to work. Seeing your boss, so sneaky! No wonder you didn’t want to tell mom more about him.” Sarah wiggled her fingers at us as I joined Clint behind the counter, setting the bag of takeout containers between us. I thought about breaking her fingers for a moment. I loved my sister but she had an amazing talent to grate on my nerves. “I look forward to seeing you at the wedding, Clint.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” With a wiggle of his fingers and a wide grin splitting his handsome face, Clint waved bye and Sarah turned and started walking out.

We stood in silence as we both watched Sarah walk away through the window. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. This was every one of my worst nightmares come true. It is time to wake up now. Any second now. Yeah no, sadly this was reality.

“Sooo…” Clint let the word hang for a moment. “Want to explain or should I start guessing why your sister thinks we’re dating?”

“I can explain.”

“Good,” He shrugs and I try to read him. Is he mad? Offended? Disgusted? Fucked if I could tell. “Then I can eat while you tell me why I’m going as your date to your sister’s wedding.”

“I swear, I didn’t mean for you to find out.” I sat down as he set our food out. He was acting as if it was nothing. This wasn’t nothing. This was an earth shattering secrete out in the open. Act like it, won’t you?

“Should I be offended by that or not?” Clint poured himself a cup of black coffee and put a steaming mocha down in front of me. He always knew everyone’s preferred drink and while we all knew how to make our own drinks, it seemed to bring him joy to be make them for us. It was just one of the ways he was too damn perfect.

“I mean- When I made up this fake relationship I didn’t think anyone would find out.” I shrugged, not really ready to meet his eyes yet. I prayed for customers to come in to save me.

“And how were you going to handle the wedding?” It may have been easier if he was angry with me.

“I…”

“You?” He taunted, though his voice lacked any real malice.

“I was going to say you were busy. That you couldn’t make it. I figured I’d say we got into a fight after and broke up.”

“Mhm.”

“You know, since you- fake you couldn’t put me first.”

“I guess you only gave them my name then. I thought maybe I was your dream man but I would never do that to you.” It sounded almost like he was dancing around saying something. Surely I was just reading too much into it.

“No, I didn’t- I don’t think you’d do that. I just- It’s hard to keep up the lie and if they think I’m heartbroken I’ve got peace for a bit.”

“Why did you do it?”

“What?” It took a moment for me to realize what he asked.

“It’s not like you can’t get a real boyfriend.” He shrugged, shoveling the rest of his food into his face.

“I just- It got them off my back.” He was just saying that, surely. I’ve had plenty of dating woes and had yet to find a decent man that wasn’t him.

I explained my family, their old fashioned ideas and constant pressure to find a man. That was the whole point of University to them. It was a place for young women to find men with promise to become their husbands. When I tried to play it off as my lack of creativity that resulted in my imaginary boyfriend having the same name as him, he almost deflated.

There wasn’t time for me to dwell on it however. People began to filter into the shop, keeping first him busy while I finished eating and then both of us. The incident was nearly forgotten by the time I had to grab milk and cream from the back cooler to restock the bar after the lunch rush.

“What are you doing after work?” I about jumped out of my skin when Clint’s voice filled the chilled air.

“Studying. Why? Do you need me to work late, Mr Barton?”

“If I’m your boyfriend, shouldn’t you start calling me ‘Clint’?” I cringed as he laughed.

It was as if he didn’t care if anyone overhead him. Spinning on my heel, gallons of milk in each hand I tried to hush him as threateningly as possible. All it really did was cause my hair to fall in my face from the force of my spin. With no hand free I had no choice but to try to blow the hair out of my eyes. It worked about as well as you can imagine until Clint’s warm fingers brushed the hair to the side, letting me see just how close he was.

“I figured we can plan our trip for Sarah’s wedding.”

“Excuse me?” I stuttered out the words. “Our trip?”

“Yeah. To the lovely Sarah’s wedding. I did tell her I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now that they have a face and cafe to go with the name, I can’t let you paint me as the selfish boyfriend who can’t take time off for his girl’s sister’s wedding.”

“Can you even take time off for it? Hell, can I?” I motioned toward him halfheartedly with the three gallons of milk gripped in one hand that was starting to cramp up while he portioned out the coffee grounds for the first of the drip coffee machines, seemingly uncaring that he was blocking the way out of the cooler with a task that normally was done outside the chill room.

“I’ve trained y’all well enough to take off for a bit. I just don’t because I have no life.” Finally, he moved and we both made our way to the counter. In the back, Matt was washing dishes. The sound of metal clanking together and water sloshing around drowned out our conversation. Clint shrugged, slipping the filters into place and starting the coffee machine.

“And me?” I ask, slipping the jugs into the small refrigerator under the counter. “You can’t go to the wedding without me.”

“Duh. You’ve got PTO. Consider your request approved.”

“I didn’t request it yet.”

“But you were going to.” He countered and I hated that he was right.  

The grinder kicked on as I rolled my eyes while pulling out pitchers and two small mugs. With lunch rush over and Matt having done most of the clean up, all I had left to do was watch Clint as he worked. It was one of my favorite things, though I would rather die than admit it to him.

He switched off the grinder, he flipped open the catcher and let grounds fall into the espresso pod before scraping it level with the flat end of the tamper, letting the excess fall back into the grounds container. I watched while he used the tamper to compact the grounds within the pod with a twist of his wrist only to pull the tamper out and knock the side of the pod, knocking grounds off the rim and press again.

It was a science, making coffee. One that he was proud of and had spent time teaching every one of his employees. Each knew how the grind should look, how to adjust the grind, how much force the grounds needed to be packed right, how long it should take for the water to pour through the pod and how the shot should look as it’s pouring. Pouring a bad shot of Arrow coffee simply wasn’t acceptable.

Clint clicked the pod into place in the machine, an old semi automatic that regulated the water temperature and how much water was forced through the pod and nothing more. If asked, Clint would lament endlessly about the death of the manual machine and how all the coffee from the large chains always ended up burnt because they simply trusted their machines and didn’t know what espresso should look like and the grind on those fully automated machines couldn’t be adjusted even if someone knew it was off.

He flipped the switch and set the timer. While the numbers ticked down, he leaned back against the counter and set his blue eyes on me. I hated how damned good he looked, bar rag hanging from his back pocket and sleeves pushed up just over his elbows.

“Pick the dates and I’ll arrange everything.”

“What?” I wasn’t sure I heard him right.

“Pick the dates and I’ll book shit.”

“you’ll book shit?”

“Are you a goddamn parrot?” He laughed and I snapped my mouth shut before stammering some sort of response that he simply talked over. “I’m not going to make you buy my plane ticket. Or my hotel room. And it’s cheaper if we book together so, I’ll book shit.”

“I’ll pay you back for-”

“No you won’t.” The timer beeped just as the machine switched off. “Perfect.”

“What?”

“The shot- it poured perfectly.” Clint poured it into the small ceramic cup I had set out for him and grabbed the cinnamon, adding a sprinkle to the top. “You may have gotten yourself into this mess with a dumb lie but I assure you babe, I’ve done dumber shit.”

I blushed and he gave a cocky smile as he raised his cup at me in toast before downing it as the first customer of evening came into the shop with a sprinkling of more hot on their heels. It was time for that weird midday afternoon rush that happened when it was too late to be called ‘lunch’ anymore. For a solid two hours the only time either of them had to chat was with customers while taking their orders. Still the rest of my shift passed with warm smiles and easy jokes passing between us as if he hadn’t just found out he was my imaginary boyfriend a few hours ago.

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[loveforpreserumsteve]

Begin Again (Mortician!Steve and Baker!Bucky Modern “Moving On” AU)

Twenty-Five:

Normally, Steve didn't wake up an hour early to groom his beard and style his hair. Nor did he typically start the day by doing push-ups in hopes of making his muscles seem more pronounced. Even Vinnie was annoyed by his behavior as he flopped back down on the bed to sleep just a little bit more.

Somehow, even Vinnie knew just how ridiculous Steve was being! After all, it was just the first morning run with Bucky. It shouldn't have been as big of a deal as it was. Especially not with Bucky being engaged…

Yet, there Steve was, trying to make himself look better. For Bucky. For Bucky who was engaged. For Bucky who was engaged to his former wedding planner. The wedding that never happened.Thank heaven!

Steve tugged on a tight t-shirt. Was it too tight? Possibly. But Steve wanted to look his best. Even if it was just a casual run with his crush through the park with his dog.

Jesus, what am I doing? Steve chastised himself as he fixed his hair.

Trying not to think about all the ways this could go wrong, Steve grabbed his running shoes and sat on the edge of the bed. As he laced up, he glanced over his shoulder to Vinnie, the bed-hog. Smirking, he encouraged, "C'mon, sleepy head. Wanna go for a run?"

The Weimaraner's head perked at that, but he remained laying in the middle of the bed. Steve rolled his eyes and stood from his spot. Walking out of the room, Steve called over his shoulder, "Fine, I'll run by myself!"

Just like Steve knew it would, Vinnie hopped out of bed and rushed towards the door. Nearly knocking Steve over in the process. Steve wondered what Vinnie would do once he realized that Bucky, his favorite treat-maker, would be there. Imagining that he'd probably slobber all over the attractive brunet in a more literal way compared to Steve's figurative way.

Clipping his leash to his collar, Steve led the hyper Weimaraner out of his apartment. Being sure to greet the few neighbors who were up and about at the early hour. Briefly debating whether he should drive to their meet-up at What's the Batter With You. After all, Steve didn't want to get too winded and have to call it a short run. But he didn't want to arrive all sweaty either. But he didn't want to seem lazy…

Choosing to walk as a warm-up, Steve was still early once he reached the cake shop. Not that he minded. Simply stretching as he waited while Vinnie laid down on the ground like the lazybones he was.

That was when a low whistle came from behind Steve, causing him to pause in his stretching. Glancing down at Vinnie, Steve found the dog practically vibrating in his excitement as his tail waggled back and forth. Turning to find Bucky exiting the cake shop with a smug smirk on his face as he teased, "If you stood out here all day doing that, I'd probably get a lot more customers."

Steve's eyes roamed over Bucky, wondering how something so ordinary as a loose t-shirt and basketball shorts could be so attractive. Blushing, Steve dropped his gaze and wistfully joked, "But then you'd never get any work done."

"True," Bucky chuckled in his agreement while he locked the cake shop door. Facing Steve, Bucky bent over, flipping his shoulder length brown hair over and twisting it into a messy bun. Tying it with the purple scrunchie on his wrist, he straightened out and warned, "You'll have to take it easy on me. It's been a while since I've been running."

"You're lucky that Vinnie is lazy today," Steve feigned annoyance. But failed at keeping up the façade when Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and crouched before the happy dog. Being as trained as he was, Vinnie restrained himself until Bucky started petting him, then the dog started licking all over his face.

The park with the running trail wasn't far, so the pair casually walked the few blocks there. Steve's imagination ran wild with hope-filled fantasies of holding hands. Of playful, intimate touches. Of grins and bright eyes. Of having a person to do this with every morning.

Once arriving at the park, Bucky picked up a slow jog. Warming up for their run. So, Steve matched his pace, allowing Vinnie to do the same. Vinnie enjoyed it enough as his tongue lulled out of his mouth. Happily taking in his surroundings like he always did.

Eventually, Bucky picked up his pace. Bucky's stance was strong, his technique one that was precise. It made Steve wonder if he had done sports while he was in school. From the way he ran, Steve assumed that he had been.

After checking out Bucky's technique -- and possibly his impressive, firm glutes -- Steve sped up his pace as well, to catch up with the brunet. Vinnie was more than ready to run faster and Steve decided to give him some more slack on the leash, giving the dog the illusion of running freely.

"Race ya?" Bucky propositioned when Steve fell in step with him.

Positive that he'd do anything that Bucky suggested, especially with so much mirth in his tone, Steve questioned, "To where?"

Bucky looked around and smiled at Vinnie. Deciding, "The Falls? Then we can take a break at the dog beach?"

"Sounds good," Steve confirmed, "Ready, set, g--"

"Go!" Bucky gleefully shouted, taking off just a second before Steve.

"That's cheating!" Steve called after him, but had no actual qualms with the brunet taking off first. Giddily chasing after the man while Vinnie tugged him along.

Since Steve was used to running, he managed to easily catch up with Bucky. Then, because he wanted to win, he pushed himself even more. Thrilling in the way that Bucky pushed himself harder in an attempt to beat Steve, and how he grabbed the back of Steve's athletic shirt in hopes of slowing him down. Steve couldn't help but laugh at the brunet's efforts, but didn't stop.

"Ouch! Fuck!" Bucky abruptly let go of Steve's shirt and fell back.

Hearing Bucky's outburst, Steve skidded to a stop to find Bucky standing there with an agonized expression on his handsome face. His hands were on his hips as he balanced his weight on his left leg.

Giving the leash a slight tug, Steve doubled back with Vinnie keeping up beside him. Trying to catch his breath like how Bucky was trying to catch his, Steve asked, "Everything alright?"

Still breathing erratically, Bucky opened his eyes and nodded. Stretching out his right leg, he reassured, "Just haven't done this in a while."

"Well, we can take it easy," Steve offered, running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair.

"Sorry about holding you back," Bucky apologized, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Revealing an impressively toned abdomen that Steve had difficulty tearing his eyes from.

Steve thickly swallowed and dropped his gaze when Bucky dropped his shirt. Reassuring, "Nothing to apologize for." Then, remembering how Bucky had yelped in pain, Steve asked, "You're alright though? You didn't hurt yourself?"

"I'm fine," Bucky assured, reaching down and lifting his shorts enough to show his knee and the scars there. Bucky clarified, "Acts up every once in a while."

Before Steve can think, he questioned, "What happened?"

"Old track and field injury," Bucky explained, forcing himself to hobble along the path. Still heading for the Falls, Bucky continued, "Blew out my knee at a meet. And I mean, destroyed it. Torn just about every ligament I could and had to get surgery for it."

"Ouch," Steve lamely commented and immediately regretted it.

"Yeah, ouch," Bucky good-naturedly chuckled. He tightened his messy bun and confessed, "I think what hurt the most though was losing my scholarship."

Steve's attention snapped over to Bucky. It all clicked for Steve then and he found himself stating, "Jimmy Barnes, George Washington High, class of 2009?"

Bucky's brows furrowed and he confirmed, "Yeah?"

"Class of 2010," Steve revealed, then immediately blushed.

Redirecting his attention in front of himself, he couldn't believe that Bucky was Jimmy Barnes. Sure, they had never spoken before since they didn't have any classes together and Jimmy Barnes was one of the most popular guys in school. Hell, how many times had Steve passed a plaque with James B. Barnes with a new record broken in long-distance or hurdling while on his way to the principal's office?

Really, Steve probably should've put it together sooner. Even if there were a lot of Barneses. Even if Bucky -- Jimmy -- had shorter hair back then. Had been slimmer with a clean-shaven, baby face.

"I, uh," Bucky faltered, bashfully keeping his gaze off Steve, "I'm bad at names… and faces. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Steve sincerely assured. With a shrug, he clarified, "I didn't… I didn't look, like, um… this." Walking past the Falls to the dog beach, Steve added, "Plus, we didn't run in the same crowd."

Bucky physically flinched at that as he admitted, "Yeah, well, that, 'crowd,' was full of assholes."

"Yeah, I know," Steve chuckled as he confessed, "I think I fought about half of 'em."

Bucky looked at Steve. Really looked at him. Studying him with narrowed eyes. That was when it clicked for Bucky, "Peeved Steve?! You're Peeved Steve?!"

Blushing, Steve's brows furrowed as he grumpily muttered, "Didn't know they had a nickname for me."

"Oh, sorry," Bucky bit his lip as he reminded, "Always putting my feet in my mouth."

Steve didn't say anything, just nodded and unclipped Vinnie's leash so he could run into the shallow water. A small smile crossed his face as he watched his good boy having fun.

"I'm sorry for offending you," Bucky apologized.

"It's okay," Steve shrugged and conceded, "I was an asshole back then, too."

"From what I remember," Bucky started, shoving his hands into his shorts pockets, "You were sticking up for those who couldn't -- or wouldn't -- stick up for themselves. Doesn't sound like an asshole to me."

The blush on Steve's cheeks wasn't from embarrassment now. No, now it was from being complimented by his crush, so he playfully mused, "Peeved Steve. It's not that bad. No, Hot Steve, but I think it fits better."

Giggling, Bucky teasingly argued, "I don't know about that…"