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crystxlclear · 4 years

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sudden desire

chapter two: coffee times ten

part three of sudden desire

prologue / one / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x original female character

summary: coffee, coffee and more coffee. coraline ropes marcus into babysitting duties.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: the slightest smidge of angst? boyfriend material marcus (needs his own warning because he’s soft af), mentions of divorce? mentions of pregnancy? two idiots being domestic af without realising it. honestly i’m just pulling these warnings out of my ass idk what counts anymore

author’s note: sorry if there’s any errors, i’m honestly the world’s worst proofreader (last time i went to post this, there were still passages from when this wasn’t fanfiction and marcus was an actor like cora, cause that would have made total sense!) but also i get super hypercritical so it’s best if i just don’t read and reread my work oops... anyway, enjoy!

Monday morning comes and she’s wearing the dress that he likes. It's the yellow one she wore the day they met, the reason he calls her sunshine, and she smiles as she sweeps effortlessly into the coffee shop. Coraline pushes the sunglasses she's wearing up onto her head and greets him with a hug and a small 'hello' muffled against his shoulder.

It's only January but the sun still seeps in too brightly through the shop's thatched windows; it casts her in a halo of gold as she sits in the armchair across from him. Even despite the warmth pooling in the air, he can tell she's still cold, from the way her shoulders shrink inwards and she wraps her arms around herself. If she is cold, she doesn't let him know, just takes a moment to run her hands up her arms before wrapping them around the mug of coffee he'd ordered her. He'd told her to go see someone about it — constant chills aren't exactly normal — but she'd refused, brushing off his concern with a simple shrug of her shoulders and an insistence that she'd be fine. She'd also pointed out that it was, in fact, January and it was meant to be cold, even if it wasn't. It still hasn't stopped him from worrying, though.

"You left early last night." He points out. Last night, some high-end gallery opening in downtown D.C., too many cameras and far too many people. He’d invited her as his plus one, purely platonically, of course, and because he knew she was the only friend he had that liked art just as much as he did, though she hadn't wanted to go. He hadn't blamed her, especially when they’d got there; Coraline's ex, Scott, and his new girlfriend had shown up, apparently friends with the gallery owner, their hands a little too wandering. If his ex and their new partner showed up, flouting their relationship in front of him, he'd be pretty upset and reluctant to go, too. He’d managed to persuade her to come the night before, albeit through incessant nagging, so much so that he thinks she probably only relented to shut him up. Though, looking back at it now, he wishes they had just stayed at home.

Coraline hums into her coffee cup. Her brown hair still falls in loose, half-styled curls around her face; she tucks a little behind her ear. "I was tired. My bed was calling," she insists with a bright smile.

He doesn't entirely believe her, even though she's a pretty great actress and, consequently, just as good at hiding how she really feels. Because he knows she saw them last night. It was hard not to; a cramped room like that gave you no place to hide, and they weren't exactly being subtle. He saw the way she'd shuffle uncomfortably then their laughter would filter through the quiet space, soft but still piercing. Marcus was convinced that they were doing it on purpose, especially when he caught Scott stealing glances from across the room whenever he thought no one was looking. He was trying to get a reaction and, being as graceful as she was, she hadn't given him that, even if she had spent the entire night with her brows furrowed and wearing a smile he could tell was fake.

He watches her curiously; the way she sips her coffee slowly, how her hair curls softly against her neck, the gentle curve of her pink lips that seems permenant around him. But he’s never been the most subtle, at least, not around her. She notices him staring, gaze lingering for far too long over the gentle contours of her face, and their eyes meet for a second; they're immediately lit by another even brighter smile that pulls across her glossed lips. "What?" She questions. Her cheeks always flush pink whenever he looks at her for longer than a moment.

He shakes his head, returning her smile, perhaps a little too enthusiastically when his teeth peak through a little. "Nothing, I just-" I just want you to be happy, he thinks. But he doesn't say it, because she must know that already, and just shakes his head. "Nothing." He repeats.

"You're staring."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are." She chuckles, poking his leg with the toe of her boot. “Why are you staring?”

"Cora, I'm not staring."

He is staring. He can't help it. Especially when she smiles.

She regards him for a second. Sometimes, he wonders if she can read his mind, given the way her eyes trace over his face like she's reading a book. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind if she did read his mind. "I'm fine." She answers the unspoken question lingering thick in the air. The real reason he's looking at her like he is. A laugh lilts at the edges of her insistence and he can tell that she's lying; there's a furrow pulling at her eyebrows that gives her away. He’s learned to look for it. "Why wouldn't I be?" She knows exactly why. But it seems like that's all they talk about, how she is. And she doesn't want to anymore. She's fine.

Because your ex-husband spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, he wants to say. But he doesn't. He leaves it alone.

Marcus leant back in his chair. He doesn't push it. "No reason."

Coraline peers at him over the top of her coffee cup — it's almost too big for her hands — but she doesn't press it further, even if she does raise her eyebrows a little. Or, at least, she doesn't get a chance too, because someone is calling out to her from across the coffee shop. "No reason." She repeats with a soft hum.

She peels her eyes away from Marcus, almost like it's some great hardship to stop looking at him, and turns her smile towards whoever had called her name. He recognises her as Loren Hull, Coraline's childhood best friend, struggling to push through the door with a stroller, even as someone holds the door open for her and another helps her inside.

Coraline watches with amusement as Loren teeters towards them. "How are you?" She asks as she hugs her. Her attention switches towards the gurgling baby in the stroller; she was chewing on a toy, far too preoccupied to pay attention to anything that was going on around her. That was until she catches sight of Coraline and cries out with glee. "And how's my favourite goddaughter?" She coos.

Loren huffs out a groan. Her blonde hair is tied haphazardly on top of her head, curls spilling out at either side, falling into her face. There are dark circles beneath her green eyes. "She's great-" She grins down at her daughter for a moment before her head throws back. "But I'm exhausted." She's talking far too fast, the words falling from her mouth, in the same way, an almost nonsensical rambling might. It's almost like she thinks that, if she doesn't talk fast, she'll never be able to get the words out. "I can't stay long- oh, hey, Marcus-" It's like in her hurry and she hasn't noticed he's there until now. He doesn't blame her; Coraline has mentioned that she's still getting to grips with being a single mom. "-but I need coffee otherwise I'm going to pass out."

Coraline is grinning down at Loren's daughter, Maisie, whispering soft 'hello's at her, completely distracted by the baby who seemed just as captivated. The baby giggles and reaches for Cora's fingers, kicking her legs excitedly under the pink blanket. "I could look after her tonight if you need some rest." Her eyes don't leave Maisie, who's tiny fingers wrap tightly around Coraline's pointer finger. Half of him wonders if she'd actually meant to offer her help or if the whispers had come out before she had chance to think them through.

"You could?" Loren's face lights up with relief.

"Of course!" Cora's eyes come to rest on Marcus. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all." He shoots her a smile. They're meant to be seeing a movie. It's some horror film he's never heard of; he isn't a massive fan of horror but Coraline had wanted to see it — it had something to do with her and her father watching horror films together when she was younger, even if they were terrible and laughably cheesy — and had managed to persuade him the night before at the gala, when they were both a little too tipsy and he was trying his best to distract her as Scott's lips dragged over his new girlfriend's neck. He'd glanced up every now and then, just to see if she was watching them. Luckily, she never was.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver." Loren exhales, like she's been underwater for months and her head has only just poked above the surface. "Both of you." She turns to Marcus and flashes him a bright but exhausted smile.

"What are best friend's for?" Cora chuckles as Loren pulls away to order her drink. "Drop her off later."

"I'll be by at seven," she announces as she grabs her drink, backing the stroller out of the coffee shop with decidedly more grace than when she'd entered. Patrons part the way for her and she murmurs a 'sorry' at everyone she passes or accidentally whacks with her nappy bag.

Coraline's eyes linger on the baby for a few moments longer as they leave; her expression flickers, softening, like she's considering something, like she's plagued by conflict. Coraline taps her fingers on the table, perfect pale pink nails rapping a steady beat against the wood. Eventually, her eyebrows furrow and she draws back into herself, like realisation has hit and she's snapped herself back to reality.

"Are you sure you don't mind? You can find something else to do, you don't have to become a pro bono babysitter with me." She wants him to help her out. She really does. She tries not to let the hopeful glint reach her eyes.

But she feels especially bad because Marcus rarely has days off. It's a rare Sunday when he's in between cases and hasn’t been dragged in on a weekend. And she's dragging him along to look after a baby he's never even met before.

He shakes his head. "Why would I mind?" He gets to spend time with her. He enjoys her company too much to turn her down.

She shrugs and takes another sip of her drink. He can tell by the way that she scowls that it's gone a little cold. He doesn't know how she drinks it, anyway. There's too much caramel — it was far too sweet — but she seemed to like it and he'd seen her tired self go through three in an hour before. "Changing diapers isn't exactly a thrilling pastime."

"I'm sure I'll live."

Coraline pushes herself to her feet. A breeze ruffles the skirt of her dress, billowing the pale yellow fabric against her knees like it had a mind of its own. She finishes off the last drops of her drink and sighs. "Well, then, we’re going to need some more coffee."

...

Coraline has been rushing around her apartment for most of the day. She isn't sure if she's nervous or if she just has too much caffeine buzzing through her veins. Perhaps it's both. She's not even aware of her surroundings, only that Marcus has been sitting on the couch trying to get her to relax for the past hour and she's fussed meticulously over every square inch of her apartment at least three times. She just needs to keep her hands busy.

"Cora, she's a baby." He chuckles as Coraline scowls at the magazines on the coffee table. She bends down to straighten them, huffing out an inpatient breath as she does so. "She's not going to care what your apartment looks like."

She ignores him, turning swiftly on her heels to straighten out the woollen throw draping over her couch. "Relax," Marcus insists. He watches her with concern as she pauses, sucks in a shallow breath and turns to slump down against the opposite end of the couch. Her head falls back against the cushions. "What's wrong?"

"It's just-" She doesn't even know what she means to say. She doesn't really have an explanation for it — why she's frantically rushing around her apartment trying to keep her mind off Maisie and the babysitting job she'd found herself — so she doesn't bother offering one. Maybe it's because all she can think about is how much she'd wanted a baby when she was with Scott and how she has no idea what she wants anymore, now that he's gone and she's alone again. Everything's so confusing now; she can barely bring herself to think about it. It just doesn't make sense. Coraline tells Marcus a lot of things (he probably knows more about her than Loren does, and they'd been best friends since they were six) but some things just weren't for sharing. Maybe he already knows. She hopes he does, it would make things much easier, and then she doesn’t have to bite back pointless tears when she eventually tells him.

Coraline lets out an overly-dramatic sigh and turns her head towards Marcus. He's still watching her, brown eyes softer now. He smiles and she shakes her head to clear away the thoughts. "I'm glad you're here, you know," she admits. Her eyes drag back up to the ceiling.

"Of course you are. You'd never survive without me." He quips.

"Oh, sure. How I ever managed to live twenty-eight years without you, I'll never know."

Marcus' eyes crease at the corner as he laughs a little at his joke. "I know you'll be good at this whole baby thing." She lulls her head to the side to watch him; she shuffles against her hip, resting her cheek against the dimpled green couch cushion and watches him as his dark eyes light up. In the time that she's known him, barely even six months, though it seems like far longer, she can only think of a handful of times when she'd seen him without a smile. Even then, most of those were after a long day of paperwork, and she could usually make him smile after a few minutes of prodding at him to tell her what's wrong.

"I have work early tomorrow." Coraline points out. "This was a bad idea. I should be sleeping."

"Well, you did offer.”

"I know, and it was a terrible idea." She sighs. "Y’know, I think Maisie hates me."

"Maisie is a baby, Cora."

"Babies still have feelings, Marcus."

He chuckles. "She loves you, don't be ridiculous."

His words are punctuated by a knock on the door. It's almost frantic, like whoever's on the other side's intentions are urgent. Coraline groans a little as she stands up; she knows exactly who it is and she drags her feet towards the door, trying her best to push past her concern. She lowers her head to the door's peephole before yanking it open. She has a wide grin on her face when she greets Loren and Maisie. "Good evening." Her voice is lilting, soft and bright and cheerful, like Marcus is used to hearing. It makes him smile, the way she's gone from a worry that seemed to be spreading rapidly through her back to her bright self. He's never seen her so panicked, even around her ex; she's normally so laid back and relaxed.

Coraline pulls the door open a little further before sweeping Maisie and her stroller inside. Loren murmurs that she's asleep and Cora starts to rock the stroller back and forth, trying her best to keep the baby asleep for as long as she can. It gave her time to regain her scattered composure. Marcus pushes himself up from the armchair he'd been reclined in and sweeps over to take Maisie from Coraline and away from the entryway.

"Oh-" It startles her a little, when his hands reach out and fingers accidentally brush over her wrist. "Thank you." She smiles at him softly as he backs the stroller out into the living room.

"Marcus is here?" Loren's eyes light up and a grin pulls at her lips when he falls out of earshot. Her eyebrows raise playfully.

"Yes."

Her grin only widens. "Are you on a date?"

"No." Coraline scoffs.

Loren doesn't seem to be giving up and she certainly doesn't believe her. She never does, not usually. She seems to have convinced herself that Cora and Marcus are in love or secretly dating, or both. "This is a date, isn't it?"

"It's not a date, Loren." Cora rolls her eyes but she can't help but smile. She tried to conceal it but she can't stifle the way her corners quirk upwards. It's most definitely not a date — that had ever even crossed her mind — and it's just hilarious how Loren seems to be convinced that her oldest friend is harbouring a secret affection for her best friend. She looks between them both with a glint in her blue eyes, like she knows something they don't and she's just waiting for them to figure it out. Except there’s nothing to figure out. They’re friends. Just friends.

"Whatever you say.” She giggles. Loren smiles back at Marcus, who's stood back by the couch, rocking the stroller back and forth. Coraline follows her gaze and smiles fondly at him; he's not paying attention to them and he doesn't notice the way they're both watching him.

"We're just friends," Coraline insists again as she turns back to Loren.

"Sure you are." She smirks. ”I promise I won’t say ‘I told you so’.”

"Just go." Coraline takes her best friend by the shoulders and guides her back out of the door but she can't help the smile that spills onto her lips again.

"Can I be your maid of honour?"

"Go home and sleep!"

"Please!"

"I'm shutting the door now, goodbye."

"There are diapers in the bag and she's already been fed," Loren adds hastily as Coraline inched the door shut. "I'll be back in a few hours."

...

Maisie slept for a little while, but now she's wide awake, giggling and trying her best to grab Coraline's curls. The baby sits on Cora's lap, small fingers reaching out towards her insistently. She'd offer her one of the toys Loren had left for her but she only seems interested in them for a few seconds before Coraline's hair tumbles over her shoulder and she grows distracted again.

She's torn between tying her hair up or just letting Maisie tug on it to her heart's content. But she doesn't; she just lightly whispers no with a shake of her head, a smile and a shake of whatever toy she reaches for first. And it's a never-ending cycle until finally, Maisie decides that hair isn't for her and she prefers the blue teething ring that Coraline reaches for last.

"You really are great with her,” Marcus comments.

She chuckles, a breathy laugh through her nose. "I'm great with everyone." She pokes her tongue at the corner of her lip and grins. He notices, when she does that, says something about herself being great or that she's good at something, her cheeks flush pink a little. She only means it as a joke, he knows that, but it's almost like it embarrasses her to say or think anything like that. Her eyes betray the way she struggles with it.

"I have nephews." She shrugs. "I was a great babysitter back in the day."

Maisie makes a gleeful noise, halfway between a squeal and a laugh, and drops the teething ring to the sofa, disinterested. She makes a grab for Coraline's hair again, reaching forward to try and swipe it between her fingers. But Cora's own fingers block her clutches. "No," she whispers quietly with a smile and a chuckle. She pushes her small hand away gently but Maisie delights in it, face illuminating in a grin, and reaches out for Coraline’s curls insistently.

Marcus reaches down to pick up the toy as Coraline laughs, too distracted to even bother. His arm brushes hers as he does so. She's always struck by how warm he is. The first time she'd noticed it, the day they'd first met, she thought it was because of the sun streaming in through the briefing room’s glass windows. But she’d noticed it every single time he’d touched her since — even just the slightest touch or brush of a hand — until she thinks she’s used to it. She isn’t. His touch warms whatever bare skin it touches immediately and she shudders; Marcus doesn't seem to notice and she's glad because she doesn't want to explain that one fleeting touch from him warms up her entire, otherwise freezing, body.

It's a cliche, she knows that. The kind of cliche you read about in cheesy romance novels. It makes her cheeks burn — Coraline knows she's going bright red; she can feel it crawling slowly over her skin and she shivers like there's a cold breeze dancing it's way up the back of her neck — because she doesn't know what it means. She's never really felt it before she met him, this odd, confusing burn that started in her chest, then blooms out like flowers through her whole body. She usually just brushes it off because it happens whenever and wherever, without warning It just arrives out of the blue, triggered by a glance or a laugh or the briefest touch of a hand. It's ridiculous but she can't help but turn it over and over and over in her mind at night, when she tries to sleep, until she's restless and staring at the wooden beams that stretch across her bedroom ceiling.

"Do you want kids?" Coraline asks. It’s out of the blue. Her expression almost makes it seem like she wants him to ask her the question, like she's desperate to talk about it with someone, anyone, before it bursts from her chest. Although, he can't help but wonder if she never meant to ask, or if she regrets asking, given the way her eyes fall back to Maisie who's resumed her chewing on the teething ring again. Though, Coraline barely realises she's given anything away. Then again, she doesn't even realise that there is anything to give away. She's so enchanted by the baby and the brush of Marcus' arm against hers that she's giving away maybe a little more than she intends. It's strange to see her like this given her flustered panic of just an hour earlier.

Marcus takes a moment, a pause to figure out the right answer, then he nods a little. "I would, yes. Some day." He pauses for another second, watching the way her eyes glimmer as she looks at her goddaughter. He already knows her answer before he even asks the question. Or, at least, the real answer. "Do you?"

Coraline's eyes light up; her blue eyes look like the sky on a sunny day. "Maybe," she hums. When she looks up to meet his eyes, the small smile she gives betrays the truth. But she cuts it off like it's wrong or forbidden or downright ridiculous, like she shouldn't feel those things. He notices the way her lips falter like she's biting back the urge to say something, a secret on the tip of her tongue, and how she tugs her lower lip in between her teeth to stop her from smiling again.

He thinks he knows what makes her so unsure about that. Why she cuts herself off and seems to tell herself it's wrong. She's mentioned it once before, when she was tired — she talks a lot when she's tired, but it's mostly incoherent mumblings that he has to admit, he finds adorable — that Scott didn't want kids. Marcus has never brought up what she’d told him (if she really wants him to know, she'd have told him by now, when she's completely coherent and conscious) but it tugs at the edge of his thoughts as her sentences go quiet when she sees a mother and their baby. They make her smile fondly. It's a smile that's been all-too-lacking since her divorce.

He understands. It’s happened to him before, twice now. Twice he’s faced heartbreak, that horrible moment when things go sour. When you’re left with a million little ‘what ifs’, wondering where exactly things went so wrong. Wondering if there was anything you could have done, anything at all, to make things better. It’s a dull ache that sits deep in his chest. And it’s agonising. He hates how familiar the feeling has become.

Marcus has never told her about his past relationships - about his first marriage and eventual divorce, about his last engagement and how it had ended almost as quickly as it had begun, how he’d found himself alone in D.C. without a soul in the world to talk to - and he also hasn’t told her that meeting her was like a fresh start, like the sun had finally peaked through the rain clouds that had hung over his head for so long. She’d helped him settle, finally, even after six months struggling to feel at home in a new, lonely city. She’d welcomed him, helped him find new friends, and stuck by him the entire time. She doesn’t have to be his friend; he’s sure she has much cooler, younger friends that don’t spend most of their days hunched over an ever-growing mountain of paperwork or hidden away inside some tiny downtown art gallery. Sure, he’d be upset if their weekly meetings came to a halt, but he wouldn’t blame her if she chose someone more like herself over him.

Mostly, Marcus just hadn't wanted to dredge up old feelings, not when she was in the thick of a divorce and clearly struggling, no matter how much she pretended she was okay. So he never told her what had happened. When she'd confided in him for the first time those few short months ago, spilling her deepest secrets, staying up until 3am just pouring her heart out to him over the phone, he'd wondered if it was best to tell her. To let her know that he knew how she felt, that he understood. But he still hasn't. She’s asked about his past before, nagging until he relented and revealed things he's never really had much trouble revealing before, and he has told her parts of it. But he usually skirts around the details, like there's nothing important to reveal. He isn't sure why he does it, especially when she opens up to him so easily. He guesses that the moment has never seemed right.

Maisie's hand is twisted into the fabric of Coraline's dress. She shakes the teething ring in her hands like it's a rattle. "I've never had the chance," she admits, suddenly. "To have kids."

"You've still got time."

"Barely." She sighs. He raises an eyebrow, like he's asking her what she means, but she doesn't continue. She waves a hand and brushes off his concern. "It's not important," she insists.

But it is important. He knows it is. And, if it matters to her, it matters to him.

#sudden desire #marcus pike x female character #marcus pike x original character #marcus pike x fem!oc #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike

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ladyrivia · 5 years

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Savior (Jaskier x Reader, angst ending)

Request: Hi! I’m the anon who requested the Jaskier fic and I just wanna say it was sooo good! And you got it up so fast! Thank you so much! I would love it if you made an angsty ending :) I have more requests for later too if you would be okay (all Jaskier fics oops) anyways thanks for writing my request and I’d love an angst ending :) -Grace (that’s my name☺️)

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader

Warnings: Violence and death

Authors Note: :DDD I’m so glad you enjoyed it!! I’m so down for more Jaskier, i love my bard boy. Can’t wait to write more of your requests! Thank you Grace!

Everything is the same except for the ending

LINK TO FLUFF ENDING HERE

“No, I’m upset Jaskier! You left for a monster hunt on our anniversary, how could I not be upset?!” You exclaimed as you walked down the stairs of your shared home, Jaskier close behind.

He was an amazing boyfriend, but dear god could he be clueless on what is okay.

It was your anniversary and you both had planned to go to the pub to drink and have fun, but out of the blue Jaskier had heard that Geralt was nearby on a hunt and had completely forgotten about your plans.

He had returned the second he had remembered, but that was now, and the harm had been done.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I truly am! You know how forgetful I am and how overindulged I get in this stuff! I know this doesn’t excuse my actions but I don’t know how to fix it.” He tried explaining his side, but you were having none of it, and just needed to get away.

“Just leave me alone,” You turned and pointed at him. “Don’t follow me.” You growled and stormed out the door, heading down the street to the forest surrounding the town. You needed to get away and clear your head, maybe grab some herbs for teas and healing ointments for your healing business. You didn’t know what exactly you were doing, just anything to get your mind off things for a while.

You walked for a while, zoning out and not realizing how far you had gone until it was too late. The sun was setting, and it would be safer staying put rather than trying to make it back through the dense forest. Going to the main road would also not be safe as bandits lurk during the night, waiting for unsuspecting victims.

Your cloak was big enough to wrap completely around yourself, so you laid down to get some sleep.

You awoke to birds chirping and the sun shining in your eyes. You took your time getting up, you had nowhere to be and you were still too mad to return to Jaskier.

‘Letting my anger dissipate now is better than risking taking it out on Jaskier.’ You thought, and headed down to the nearest creek to get a drink of water and maybe find some berries for breakfast.

BACK IN TOWN

“I can’t find her anywhere Geralt, I’m worried!” Jaskier nervously sat across from his friend at the pub.

“She’ll come back.” Geralt mumbled into his cup.

“But what if she’s in danger and I’m here sitting on my ass listening to you! That’s what got me in trouble in the first place!”

“No, you came after me, and I was listening to you.” Geralt corrected Jaskier’s blame.

“Regardless, what if she’s-” Jaskier was cut off by a shaken up merchant.

“Witcher! There’s more monsters out there! I was just attacked!” Geralt looked at the man and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Hmm,” He grunted and stood up, quickly chugging the remaining ale. “Where?”

“Up the mountain! They’re hiding out in a cave! Left of the path just past Bald Man’s Rock! They stole my goods! I’ll pay you 150 gold if you can recover my items!” The disheveled merchant promised The Witcher.

Jaskier’s eyes were wide, he could only think of the horrible things that the monsters would do to Y/N if they got their claws on her. Geralt turned his head towards Jaskier and gave him a nod, reassuring him that Y/N would be okay.

IN THE FOREST

You had been wandering for a while, not wanting to return home yet. The rustling of leaves behind didn’t worry you at first, you assumed it was a deer that you had scared. But when it didn’t stop and got closer, that’s when you turned.

WACK

You hit the ground, groaning in pain, the unknown assailant had knocked you down and proceeded to choke you out. You tried to fight back but they were too strong, their initial blows weakening you.

ON THE PATH

“Oh god, what if she’s dead because of this, because of me!” Jaskier rambled on. Geralt sighed and stopped Roach.

“If you don’t shut up I will knock you out and tie you to the back of Roach for the remaining part of this trip.” Geralt warned, he understood his friend’s worry, but continuing to talk about it wouldn’t get them anywhere.

They continued down the path, following the merchant’s instruction.

“Bald Man’s Rock!” Jaskier exclaimed, rushing ahead of Geralt and Roach.

“Wait.” Geralt called out, getting off his horse and unsheathing his sword, stalking towards the direction of the monster’s hideout.

IN THE CAVE

“Rob ‘er of her items, then do whatever, I don’t really care.” A voice commanded, heavy footsteps approaching you. You blinked open your eyes to see a man walking towards you, malice in his eyes. You writhed, but the ropes tied around your arms and legs kept you from moving. He roughly grabbed you and patted you down, trying to find any hidden pouches on you.

“Fuckin’ useless whore, doesn’t even have coin on ‘er.” He punched you across his face. Part of you was glad that you didn’t carry any coin, not wanting this bandits to take any of your hard earned money, but the other part of you wish you had so maybe they would let you go. “Go get Jager, he can dispose of ‘er.” Your eyes widen, there was no good outcome.

“What do you want Marin? ” A voice slurred, though he was drunk, there was a malice to his voice.

“Dispose of this wench, she has nothing, no coin or anything. Slash ‘er up so the locals keep believing there’s monsters in ‘ere.” The original man kicked you in the stomach, knocking you on your side.

“Yessir.” The man you presumed to be Jager stumbled over with a knife, you started to scream.

“Shut up!” He knelt on the ground and punched you in the face. You whimpered, tears running down your face.

‘Don’t let this be the end, not without a goodbye to Jaskier’

The man slashed across your legs, a wound that looked consistent with a werewolf to a normal villager. He continued this pattern across your collarbone to the middle of your sternum. The wounds weren’t deep, but they weren’t shallow. He lifted the bottom of your dress and repeated this again on your upper thigh.

“Think that good enough?” Jager asked his partners in crime.

“You’re really just gonna leave ‘ere there to bleed out, we’re thieves, not monsters.” They laughed at that, but you were terrified.

You begged them not to, but you had no bargaining chips here.

‘I’m so sorry Jaskier.’ You thought, hot tears running down your cheek. ‘This is the end.’

He grabbed you by the hair, forcing your head up so your neck was exposed.

You could feel the skin splitting on your neck, the warm blood spilling out.

“Witcher!” You heard, the blade only slicing half of your neck when you were dropped, Jager joining his comrades in fighting the mutant.

“Y/N!” Jaskier rushed to your side, eyes filled with tears. “No, no, no, no,” He took off his jacket, placing it onto your wound to try to halt the bleeding. He held it in place with one hand, using the other to pull off the rope the bandits had tied around your hands.

You were drowsy, the thought of sleep was so enchanting to you at that moment. You let your head drop, and your eyes started to close.

“Look at me, look at me, you’re going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.” He rocked you back and forth, tears falling off his face and onto your skin. The sounds of fighting stopped, Geralt finishing off the last of the bandits.

Geralt knew it was too late. He saw it before with Renfri. All he could do is comfort his friend after, so he made no attempt to interrupt your final moments together.

Your shaky arm reached up to cup his face, using up the last of your energy.

“I’m sorry Jaskier-”

“Don’t say that, no, don’t say that.” He sobbed, grasping your hand.

“I love you.” Your eyes closed, your final breath exiting your lungs.

The gut wrenching sound of a heartbroken bard was the last thing you heard, before everything turned black.

#jaskier #jaskier the bard #jaskier the witcher #jaskier x reader #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier fanfiction #jaskier fanfic

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imagine-lumpygrab · 5 years

Note

I see you reblogged a writing prompt list so if possible may I request... Number 3 for angst or number 14 for fluff... Take your pick whatever inspires you more

Surprisingly, in spite of my natural leaning towards fluff, I was inspired by the angst prompt: “Why are you awake right now?”

It did turn into fluff after a while though, so... oops :D

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The Storm Cloud

(for @charliecharlo)

The city full of lemonpeople was very quiet during most nights. Most citizens of the earldom had similar sleep patterns and went to sleep at the same time, after all, but there were exceptions. A small boy in a house on the outskirts was finishing up his new sculpture. Elsewhere, a mother of two was checking on her children (who she’d planted, grown and raised herself, mind you) for the last time before going to bed.

Just like the city, the castle towering over it was, too, very quiet. The earl of Lemongrab himself, though, was wide awake, and the longer he stayed awake, the more suffocating the silence around him seemed to be. He’d grown accustomed to being around people in these last few months, he spent some time with Fern after they both got candified, he appointed several meetings with princess Bubblegum in an attempt (made on both sides) to fix both their personal relationships and ties between the kingdom and the earldom, and he was planning a small reunion tour with a music band his first predecessor used to be in, The Unacceptables. So far he’d only texted with them but tomorrow they had a band meeting planned and he wandered how it would go.

Would they even come? Weren’t like two of them dead? What are they going to say about him being dead for a while?

As the night progressed, he decided to at least be productive if his anxieties wouldn’t let him sleep. He could try and write a new song, at least he’d have an offering for the band meeting. So, not really knowing if there was even anything to write, he took a small notebook and a pencil he kept in his nightstand’s drawer and ventured out into his castle. Wherever he went, gentle light of lanterns appeared seemingly out of nowhere, lit up by the servants living in the walls. On other nights, he had a tendency to notice a small delay as those in charge of night lights were only starting their shift and he would probably tell them to be more responsible when on duty, but tonight he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He had more important stuff to overthink.

Finally, he settled with sitting down to the empty dining table in one of the biggest rooms in the castle. He remembered Lemongrab the Second’s proposal of getting rid of it and turning the hall into a ballroom once. He also remembered Lemongrab the First’s hesitant agreement, as the “original” earl of Lemongrab didn’t particularly like the crowds at the time. Later, the idea almost turned into a fully planned project when the older brother started a band and grew to love the attention their fans showered them with.

So ironic that he’d been destroyed by music only months later, along with his clone.

Lemongrab shuddered, at times he could swear to have heard Lemonhope’s harp again, echoing through his home, through his mind, soft melody piercing him and tearing him apart bit by bit. It took a while after he was stitched together to muster up the courage to start listening to any sort of music again, and whenever there was a harp in the room he needed desperately to be anywhere else. Thank Glob most people who knew him understood that.

He tapped the flat end of his pencil against a blank page of the notebook. What did he feel like writing about?

His mind went blank.

Now that he had decided to write something, he didn’t know how to start.

Any given word he could think of felt wrong.

He couldn’t even start the first verse.

“Well this is annoying,” he spoke out loud, partly to fight against the silence wreathing around him, but that only seemed to draw it closer to his skin, embracing and crushing him, why did it feel like that, why did the silence feel so… tangible? Why wasn’t he asleep, he should be asleep, was it bad that he wasn’t asleep? Was he doing something wrong? Was something wrong with him – again??

Lemongrab gripped the pencil tighter and shut his eyes tight. His annoyance slowly but surely morphed into something else, something darker, anger, most likely. Yes, that was it, anger was the right word. He had survived the end of the world and he survived the elemental powers of Ooo getting out of hand and he had survived his own death, why did it feel like he shouldn’t have, why did he feel like he was doing everything wrong, what was the meaning of this?!

A tap on his shoulder wrenched him out of the panicky state he was slowly succumbing to. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was pressing his forehead against the blank paper and the pencil he held was moments away from snapping in half.

Next to him was standing one of the servants who lived in the walls. He was holding Lemongrab’s phone, which was at the moment buzzing. The name on the screen made him sigh in relief: it was Lumpy Space Princess. Just the person he needed to talk to. She’d recently movies back to the Lumpy Space for her official coronation and to deal with paperwork and administration related to the process, and even though they called each other all the time, it couldn’t quite compensate for her absence.

Trying to compose himself as to not sound like he just almost had a mental breakdown, he took the phone and picked up. “Hi–”

“Why are you awake right now?” his girlfriend’s voice came through, sounding a little scolding and more than a little worried.

The question caught him off-guard. He squinted his eyes in confusion: “How… how do you even know I’m awake?”

He heard her make the quiet “psh” scoff she made whenever she was about to state the obvious. “Well, you don’t sound like you’d just woken up. You sound like you’ve been up and about for a while before you picked up the phone.” She paused for a second and then added: “Also Bubblegum texted me saying she saw light in your castle with one of her new drones.”

Lemongrab sighed. Of course she did. “That’s mother princess for you, I guess,” he mumbled while standing up from the desk and walking over to a window, trying to spot the drone. He saw nothing, however. Either it was far away or gone already, but it didn’t help his mood any.

“Yeah.. but she cares, LG,” LSP offered, trying to soothe his annoyance. “I think she’s just been on edge since experiencing the actual end of the world and her own family declaring war on her.”

“I’ve been on edge too!” Lemongrab exclaimed, throwing his hands up even though she couldn’t see the gesture. “And you don’t see me stalking the candy people! …not anymore at least.” He groaned, the lack of sleep was getting to him and princess Bubblegum spying on him, even if from afar, was only worsening his already fragile state.

And even if she was in a completely different realm at the moment, he knew LSP could tell he wasn’t feeling well. “Lemongrab, why don’t you tell me what’s keeping you up?”

“You should be sleeping too, though.”

“Eh, I’d spent the next three hours watching cat videos, talking to you is always cooler. Now, what’s on your mind? Spill it.”

So, he decided to spill it. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d write a song for the band meeting tomorrow, but instead I had a meltdown, I think.”

“What?!”

“I’m fine now though!” he rushed to assure her, but it didn’t seem convincing even to him. Is he really fine? He didn’t feel fine. But he didn’t want her to worry, either.

“I know you don’t want me to worry,” she spoke up, and for half a second he wondered (not for the first time) if lumpy space people could read minds. “But you know it helps to talk about stuff.”

He let go of the pencil, giving up on song-writing. Obviously, his muse decided to evade him for the evening. Instead he wrapped his free arm around himself in an attempt to chase away the impending feeling of loneliness. How could he feel so alone when all around him there were the lemon citizens and how could he feel like he was missing more than a few pieces when he was out together with more pieces than he dared to count? How could he feel so…

“Wrong,” he admitted to her. “I feel wrong.”

She kept silent. She knew there was more to it.

He continued, if only to protect himself against the silence. Also because he really wanted her to know. He wanted her to understand, and he knew she would. She always did. “I was… I was okay earlier today, I was okay yesterday, I was okay a week ago, but tonight I feel horrible, I feel stupid and I hate everything.” Mostly myself, he didn’t say out loud. “And I feel wrong for being annoyed and tired and angry when I don’t have anything in particular to be so annoyed and tired and angry for, you know?”

“Oh, baby,” she said softly. She desperately wanted to be there, to hug him and kiss him and hold him until he fell asleep. But she couldn’t. So she settled for the next best thing. “Most people have these intrusive thoughts from time to time, that we’re somehow broken. Let’s face it, most of us are. But that’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Scars and imperfections show that you’ve lived. Having a writer’s block is normal, and being in a horrible mood from time to time is normal too. You know, I really miss you, and sometimes I catch myself lashing out at mom and dad because of it. But I think they know I’m just irritated, because they’re always chill about it.”

Lemongrab couldn’t help but smile a little. He did have an opportunity to meet her parents already and they were the sweetest people he’d met in a while. And as much as she tried to act cool and tough, LSP had proven to him on numerous occasions that she could be just as sweet. Like now. Now, she was making him feel better. “I love you,” he informed her, because even if it was out of nowhere, it just… seemed appropriate.

“I love you too,” she responded and he could almost see her gentle smile. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? You’re strong, I’ve seen it, I know it. But even the strongest people have to take breaks. What I’m trying to say is, if you can’t write anything, don’t force yourself into it. Go hang out with the camel or the pegasus if you still don’t feel sleepy,” she offered.

He was about to follow her advice, honestly, why not? He told her once how the second earl came up with that idea a while ago and Lemongrab still spent time in his stable sometimes when he was feeling down. He suspected he wasn’t the only lemoncreature to do so, too.

But his eyes wandered down to the table, and the notebook, and the pencil, and he blinked. And just like that, the exact words he was searching for popped into his head. “Wait, stop,” he spoke up to interrupt LSP as she was still trying to think of more stuff to calm him down. “What rhymes with ‘us’?”

She hummed, pondering the sudden question before answering: “Maybe ‘thus’?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, setting the phone down and catching the pencil like a hawk snatching up its prey. “Yeah, that’ll work!”

“What, what will work?” Her voice was laced with excitement as she realized: “Did you get an idea for a song??? Oh my Glob am I your new muse? I’m a totally awesome muse.”

“Hold on for a second.”

“Sorry, I’ll stop talking. Write your heart out.”

And as he wrote the lyrics down verse after verse, he believed he might have done just that. When finished, he read the lyrics back to LSP and the sheer excitement in her voice as she gushed about how wonderful his work was melted away his remaining discomforts.

“It’s not exactly our band’s genre…”

“It’s not set in stone, you can come back to it later. Or make it the special song for the end of the night, you know, a goodbye song after a good concert. Whatever you do with it, it’s gonna be awesome,” she assured him. “Am I right or am I right?”

He grinned. “Both.” Just then, he let out a yawn.

“Aha! I heard that! You’re going to bed right now, mister!” she said half-jokingly.

He chuckled softly and complied. For whatever reason, he suddenly felt like he could doze off right then and there, but he’d done that a few times before and when Bubblegum found out, she scolded him for hurting his back that way.

Before settling back into his bed, Lemongrab wished LSP a good night and thanked her for being there for him. She replied with a smug “always, my dearest lemonboy,” and hung up shortly after.

And before he fell asleep, a melody of the song he’d just come up played softly in his mind, for once bringing not bad memories, but a sense of ease and warm, gentle embraces.

Little drops of blue

Keep falling down and touching you

It’s the sky weeping

Over the tragedy you’ve been through

Little broken heart

Keeps getting ripped and torn apart

No ugly strings of yours

Can fix what never had to start

Little broken us

The rain will keep on weeping thus:

“Go touch the strings now”

And ugly turns vibrant, just because.

Little drops of blue

Keep falling down as I kiss you

It’s the sky weeping

Over the truth that I love you.

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crowkingwrites · 6 years

Text

Water Flows Like Love Does

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Requests: Request: Hi! Can I request a Loki x reader fic where she has feelings for him but he has his eye on someone else so he hasn't noticed her? Maybe she's pretty average looking? Not sure how specific I'm supposed to be. 👀 But I'm a huge fan of slow-burn, angst with a happy ending, and smuuuut. LOL Also, I love your writing! (Anon) & Loki x Reader where it’s proficiency for him to meet her as the love of his life ? (Anon)

Author’s Notes: I really ran away with this one. Geez. One thing I forgot was the smut. I was so involved in telling this story that i just forgot. Oops.

Words: 6366 / Warnings: None (Ao3 Link)

(More Loki One Shots and Series Here)

Water flows through a fountain constantly. It will keep flowing and flowing until the fountain’s life itself ends. You stared at it and wondered if love worked the same way. Your head tilted slowly as the water hit the pool of the fountain. You could give your love to a person and the love would keep flowing and changing, but the supply was still there. Love could never run out. Love keeps flowing.

“Y/N!” snapped your professor. Your head sharply turned back to him. You weren’t the best student in your class. It wasn’t that you were stupid. Your mind just wandered to other things like fantastic worlds or handsome boys. Your chair wobbled as you sat straight up before him. Another girl in your class giggled at your expense. Her long, blonde hair was too perfect, but you knew better. Sigyn charmed herself with vanity spells. You didn’t change your appearance for anything or anyone, but looking at some of the other girls in your sorcery class made you think about it.

Before the professor could lecture you on focusing in class, Loki walked in late as usual. He bowed his head and apologized.

“My mother required my assistance. Again, I apologize, Mephistopheles.” Loki took his seat right behind Sigyn. His face softened when he looked at her, and your face softened when you looked at him. His black hair was slicked back and his green cowl covered his neck. Everyone was dressed warmer for the colder weather. You tugged at your sweater sleeves. Sweater yarn started to grow into and around your hands creating fingerless gloves.

Mephistopheles continued with class. He gestured to the plants in the royal courtyard. Identifying each one and its purpose in magic. Plants and herbs were useful in your own home. Your mother made a lovely place for herself as Queen Frigga’s medicine woman. Your home was filled with dried herbs and flowers all over the place. You knew this class like the back of your hand.

You let your mind wander back to the fountain. How love flowed evenly and constantly through it. You heard Loki’s voice asking a question. You started to wonder if you could love Loki like that, and if he could love you back in the same way.

Mephistopheles ended class early due to the beautifully cold weather, but your homework was to study for your next exam which was in two days.

You walked through the palace and towards your mother’s workplace. She often enjoyed having you for lunch. You watched Sigyn and her close friends walk together in the direction of leaving the palace. “Y/N!” she cheerfully said. You turned your head to see her coming up to you. You felt your stomach drop. You wanted to hide. Her pretty heels clicked up to you. Her perfect blonde hair bounced. “Some friends and I were taking a lunch at the new sweets shop. Would you like to come?”

Her invitation sounded so sweet. You wanted to follow her, but remembered your mother.

“Thank you, but I usually have lunch with my mother,” you told her.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Next time then,” she waved and left with her group of friends. Sigyn giggled in class at your expense, yet she asked you to lunch? You weren’t so sure of people your own age.

Your other’s workplace looked more like a greenhouse than a workspace. Dirt and water decorated the floor like marble. Several tables held different families of flowers and plants. Each had their own temperature and watering schedules. The glass roof was sprinkled with colorful leaves. In the furthest corner, your mother set out two bowls of soup with sandwiches.

“Hello pumpkin,” she greeted you. You jumped into your stool. Steam rose from the vegetable soup your father made for both of you. You could smell the spices and seasoned potatoes. Digging right in, your mouth was immediately satisfied with the taste. The sandwich bread just crunched under the pressure of your fingers. It was filled with meat and a sauce your father made from home.

“How’s your day?” you asked your mother in-between bites. She smiled.

“Thor and his friends came in here with a couple of knicks and cuts. He asked about you.”

You knew where this was going. “Mom—

“Nothing embarrassing. Just what you were studying. He wanted to know what you’ll do after school.”

“He was just being nice, Mother,” you said. “Thor is really, really nice.” She touched your arm and bit her lip.

“Are you sure?”

You pulled your hand away. “Yes, I’m sure.” A small chuckle left your mouth. “No one has ever been interested in me. I don’t expect my first boyfriend to be a royal prince, especially not Thor.” Your mind flashed to Loki. Your heart sank. He never really noticed you, has he? Why would he? Sigyn was perfect. They weren’t dating.

That’s what you told yourself. They were only close friends. That flame of hope ignited once again before you left the palace for the day. Studying for the exam should be a cinch. You grew up in a house where your first words were “rose”, “thyme”, and “green”. You let your mind wander once more.

This time it was you and the Prince Loki in the royal ballroom. He smiled down at you, holding you oh-so-carefully like you were made of glass. He dared not break you. Both of you moved like water across the floor. You glided and spilled your love over each other. Loki bent down to your ear.

“You look lovely tonight.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment. He led you across the ballroom floor again, only to guide you outdoors to the balcony. The stars above your heads twinkled down and showed off to you. Asgard’s sky was different from other realms. Inky blues covered most of it, but every now and again you’d see a planet or a star shooting across.

“I have something for you,” Loki gently told you. He handed you a scroll with a location of a star. You looked up to the sky and saw it twinkling.

“A star?”

“It’s named after you. It was discovered recently, so I had them name it after you.” You heard three sharp knocks on your door, pulling you away from the sweet moment.

“Pumpkin? I’ve called you down to dinner twice.” Your father leaned against the door looking more concerned than cheerful.

“Sorry,” you muttered. Your parents were just as annoyed with your daydreaming as much as your teachers were. The exam wasn’t too difficult. You were asked to identify plants and flowers and then explain what they could be used for. When you were handed back your exam, you weren’t surprised. Flying colors all the way.

“Y/N?” you looked up to see Sigyn standing in front of you. You quietly sat with a book inside the royal library, but carefully put it down when she called your attention.

“Hello,” you greeted her.

“Hello, I’m sorry. I should’ve said that first.” Sigyn bit her lip. “I didn’t do well on the last exam we did. I know herbology is something you grew up on and you’re really good at. I was wondering—

“If I could tutor you?” you finished her sentence, raising your eyebrow. Sigyn clapped.

“Yes! Exactly!” “I don’t know. I’m not so sur—

“Please? I’ll be a good student,” she explained. “I’ll even help you with your hair! I know a good trick or two to get really healthy hair.” You held up your hand.

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m fine.”

“Is this about when I laughed at you in class?” she asked. “I’m really sorry about that. I really need your help. Please?” You sighed. Perhaps, Sigyn wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. No one who learned sorcery in Asgard was terribly bad. You shook hands with Sigyn and your tutoring sessions started.

You’d both meet in the library right after Herbology class to go over anything Sigyn had trouble on. At first, Sigyn felt embarrassed with everything she struggled with. Asking good questions wasn’t helping her until you told her, ‘It’s okay to ask stupid questions. It’s not stupid if you don’t know.’ After a few more sessions, Sigyn got more confident.

“So we don’t mix these two because that will create poison,” Sigyn said.

“Yes, but you can put them together along with sage.”

Sigyn shook her head. “This is really hard to memorize. Oh, hi Loki!” Before you stood the younger prince of Asgard who was having a hard time speaking aloud.

“H-hello. Hello. I’ve seen you both here every couple of days. I was wondering if I may join you?” His voice was so comforting to hear, but before you lost yourself in it, Sigyn turned to you.

“What do you think? Is this a no boys allowed club?” Her cheeky smile and gorgeous eyes were hard to say no to.

“You can join us if you’d like,” you nodded. Your heart fluttered when he sat down in the chair across from you, but next to Sigyn. He’s never been this close before.

“Thank you,” Loki opened his herbology book and notes. “I’ve been struggling too. Mephistopheles is a hard one.”

“You struggle too? But you’re so smart!” Sigyn cheered him on. Loki’s cheeks flushed bit, but then he turned to you.

“He told me that you were the only one to ace it. Everyone else either did below average or failed.” Your cheeks flushed more. This was the most he had spoken to you ever, and it was the biggest compliment.

“Thank you?” you replied. Loki nodded, and then started your tri-tutoring group. All of you met each time after class in the library. With Loki there, both of your ‘students’ excelled in the class. You taught them new things on top of what they were studying. You even taught them more about forbidden topics: such as poisons and hexes using plants.

“That makes poison?”

“It’s Midgardian, but yes, that makes poison,” you smiled. Loki and Sigyn looked at each other and then you.

“I don’t know why you aren’t the teacher,” Loki smiled. “This is so much more fun when you explain it like this.” You felt your face flush once more in front of Loki.

“Thank-thank you,” you said. You felt your face grow white at the realization that Sigyn had been watching you intently this entire time. “We’re done for today. I have to rush home to feed Audrey.”

“Audrey? You have a sister?” Sigyn asked.

“Not exactly. Audrey is a monstrous plant that feeds on adult ravens, but we were born around the same time, so I guess you can say she’s my sister.” Sigyn and Loki looked at you with both confusion and admiration at the same time. You waved them off and went on your way.

That evening, your father had a surprise for you. All of your things were packed up and ready to move. Both of your parents decided it was time for you to be part of the Asgardian court to help you make meaningful connections and to mature. The rest of your week was moving and settling into your own castle room which was in Frigga’s wing. She was more than happy to have a new neighbor and one that was a sorceress-in-training.

“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do to make you feel comfortable,” she smiled down at you.

“Thank you,” you nodded. “You’ve been so welcoming. Thank you.” The Queen placed her hand on your shoulder.

“Your mother brings nothing but healing and joy to Asgard. I know you’ll do the same.”

“The tutoring session!” you gasped at your realization.

“I’ve excused you from classes, is everything alright?”

“No, this isn’t a class. I’m helping Loki and Sigyn. I’m sorry! I have to go!” You rushed yourself towards the royal library to find a very sour Loki reading over notes and an absent Sigyn.

“Where’s—

“She’s not coming,” Loki bit his thumnbnail. “She won’t be coming anymore.”

“What? Why? Did I—

“You did nothing wrong,” Loki snarled. Clearly, something happened in the week you were gone. You set down your books carefully while watching Loki’s face turn from sour to soft. A sigh left his mouth. “I wanted to court her desperately. It seems that she didn’t feel the same.”

“She rejected you?”

“Yes,” Loki said sharply. His thumbnail was bitten off. You looked around to see if Sigyn was secretly watching, but saw no signs of her. You sat down slowly in front of the tested Loki.

“Do you want me to tutor you or—

Loki narrowed his eyes. “What do you think?” His nostrils flaring. Your eyes darted back and forth.

“I don’t know what to think. That’s why I asked you.” Both sat there awkwardly for a moment until Loki broke the silence.

“You’re right,” he agreed, chuckling to himself. “I’m being difficult. I hope we can continue.” You nodded along, and went ahead tutoring Loki on this week’s lesson. In turn, Loki traded you tips and hints of how to not get lost in Asgard and who not to piss off. Loki pointed down a hallway. His wrist flicked to the left.

“That’s where my room is.”

“Why are you telling me where your room is? I asked you where I could make friends?” you cocked your brow. Loki nodded.

“And I told you. Down there, last door on the left.” Loki started down the hallway. “I spend a lot of time in there. Come visit me sometime.” The rest of the summer Loki and you met up to trade knowledge. You would engage him into learning more about his mother’s garden, and he would talk to you of who to be friends with in court.

“What of Fandral? He seems very charming,” you commented to Loki as both of you entered the throne room. Loki touched your arm and held on gently. His mouth went next to your ear.

“Fandral isn’t friends with girls. Not girls like you,” he commented. You felt a pang of hurt inside your stomach. Being friends with Loki for this long had been wonderful, but you still held that hope inside that he would notice you some way. It still wasn’t the case. You still weren’t pretty enough to be noticed or have friends, you guessed. You looked down and bit your lip, letting your mind wander until a snap broke you out.

“Huh?”

“You’re doing it again. The wandering,” Loki pointed out. “Are you alright?” “What you said about Fandral—

“He messes around with girls and does not care to return the feelings. There’s no such thing as a good girl being friends with Fandral. The last thing you want to give him is your time and your love.” Loki wasn’t commenting on your looks. He was warning you.

A loud boom echoed the room, and you faced your King. Odin sat on his throne while he spoke on the peace in Asgard. How he wanted to move forward, what the kingdom was doing science-wise, and to announce the Harvest Festival was well under way in planning. The annual celebration was something you looked forward to every year. You spoke about your excitement in Loki’s chambers.

“Do you think they’ll have sugar pumpkins soon? Maybe I can get one from Stanis tomorrow morning?”

“A sugar pumpkin?” Loki inquired.

“To make pie.” A glint caught your eye. Loki’s chambers were covered in different books, scientific tools, and art. His bedroom was a museum of his head. A telescope was aimed through his window. Bookshelves were netly organized with different texts ranging from ancient Asgardian history to passionate folktales of love to Midgardian war strategies. Browns and blacks decorated the mischievous boy’s walls and floor.

You had looked through most books and asked him about his favorite art, but something lay next to his bed. It was the size of an elongated water glass, but the glass moved. Three opals lay at the bottom of the glass, their color constantly changing from red to purple to violet to maroon. The glassy water flowed continuously in the magical glass. The water reflected the colors of the opals. You heard another snap.

“Sorry,” you apologized. You lowered your own hand, finding yourself closer to the beautiful object than you thought you were. Your eyes snapped back to the magical water. “What is that? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Good timing too, it’s never done this before,” Loki invited you to sit next to him on his bed while both of you watched the deep red colors interchange. “Five years ago, I became fascinated with oracles and prophecies. How could people predict the future without science and facts? What became of those heroes that were prophesized? Odin wasn’t too happy with my new interest, but my mother was.

“She took me back to her homeland during a festival of sorts. The festival doesn’t matter. I remember we entered a sacred tent. In the center was a real oracle. She told me that she waited for me, the God of Mischief. She knew what I wanted, and this this to me in a box. I told her I wanted my own prophecy, and she pointed to the box. ‘There’s your prophecy. Once revealed, your heart will know.’ The oracle believed I was too smart for riddles and words. So, she gifted me a puzzle.”

“A puzzle prophecy?” You wanted to run your fingers through the flowing water so terribly. It felt like an itch. “So what kind of prophecy is it?”

“A romantic one. After looking over the words the oracle told me. ‘Once revealed, the heart will know.’ I believe once I crack the puzzle I will know who I’m supposed to be with.” A thought occurred to you.

“Sigyn. That’s why you passionately pursued her, didn’t you?”

Loki slowly nodded. A long exhale escaped his mouth into the air. “At the time, I thought I had it. Whenever I dreamed about her, thought about her, the water and opals turned green. Green is notoriously my color, so I thought she belonged to me.”

“What have you learned so far?”

Loki took the object in his hands. The glass congealed in his hands. The water still swirled, but it was contained.

“It studies my dreams. It knows my feelings, so the magic is empathic. It knows my relationship with others. I thought of my mother several times in front of it as a control. The water turned yellow and bright. Happiness. I feel nothing but happiness around her. I thought of Thor and it gave me a mixture between reds and yellows. Joy, but anger.”

“And me?”

Both of you looked at the object again. The same purples and deep reds turned over and over again. Loki shook his head.

“I-I don’t know. I thought red meant anger, but I have no anger towards you.”

The harvest festival had other realms gathering towards Asgard. Soon, Asgard was filled with visitors from other realms. Each sharing their harvest and traditions with the other. You always thought that Odin had this peaceful vision of all cultures coming together to celebrate each other. After being Loki’s closest friend for months, you’ve come to learn the politics of it all.

You wore a prettier gown than usual, but nothing too fancy as you glided into the ballroom packed with nobles and royalty alike. Loki wore a watered down version of his personal armor. A pair of smaller golden horns decorated his black-haired head. Your arm was in his as usual.

“Ah, the ambassador from Svartalfheim is walking towards us,” you warned Loki. His head snapped forward and rolled his eyes.

“I can’t stand him. Stop me from doing something rash.” Loki and you stepped forward to meet with the Dark Elf/Asgardian hybrid. His ears were shaped like any dark elf. His eyes were charcoal like the ashes of a dead fire. His body wasn’t that of a warrior, but more a comfortably wealthy politician that spend his earnings on clothing his rotund body than helping the common people.

“My lord, my lady,” he greeted.

“Oh, I must apologize, but—

Loki stopped you from apologizing with a squeeze of your arm. He opened his mouth. “Good evening, Arn. How can I help you?”

“My young lord, I heard you were gifted with sorcery. Tell me, do you find it useful?”

“I do,” Loki answered. “Why?”

“How can you fight with it? It’s only magic. A few words here, a pretty hand action there, and then—

Suddenly, Arn’s body fell to the ground like someone had ripped carpet from under him. He rolled on his back, struggling to get up. You giggled while Loki took you both away from the scene. Your pretty dress swayed in his direction and he accidently stepped on it.

“I’m so sorry! Your dress—

“It’s fine,” you looked down to see not much damage, only dirt. When you looked back up, Loki’s face was in close proximity to yours. The warmth of his breath covered your cheeks. All of your fantasies were now reality. Loki and you were now alone in the palace at night and his attention was now on you.

Without much thinking, your hands wrapped around his neck and placed your lips on his. He was warm. It was different than you thought it would be. You didn’t hear fireworks or feel space twisting inside your stomach. He was just warm. Loki’s hands pushed you back by your arms. His face was in shock.

“Why did you do that?” he asked you. “Y/N, why did you do that?”

“You must’ve known, right?” the words spilled out. Just like water. They exploded out of you like a geyser. “How I looked at you, why I helped you, why I always take your arm, why I’m always around you. You must have known. You’re not stupid. You know how I feel about you.”

Loki shook his head. “No, I-I don’t. I-what?” The realization hit you before he could say it. He never once noticed it. He never once cared enough for you to see how obvious it was. Tears welled up in your eyes. You thought it was sadness at first, but it was anger that made you push Loki away from you. It was anger that made you sprint away from the palace and into the festival grounds. It was anger that made you collide with another body.

“I’m sorry!” You tried to cover up your crying face. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to— “Y/N?” Thor stopped you. A cheerful smile faded from his face. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Words did not flow anymore. They were stuck in the back of your throat like an itch.

“I don’t wish to talk about it.” You wiped a hand across your eyes, smearing your eye makeup.

“I understand,” Thor offered you a hand and a drink.

“Wait, is this?”

“It is,” Thor nodded and put the drink in your hand. “Sometimes it’s okay to forget and enjoy good company.” You smiled at his kindness. Sometimes, you wished your heart swelled for the other brother. Thor had always been kind to you. Why couldn’t Loki be the same?

You galloped and ran around with Thor and his friends for the evening. After a couple of drinks, your dress ripped due to an altercation with a foreigner. Sif, who was sound and more sober than you, stole clothes from a local merchant. You changed into more a more durable pair of pants and a tunic. A cloak from a different merchant covered you into the night.

Ale and wine warmed your belly while you felt all unrequited feelings for Loki fade away. Thor and Sif were closer to you than ever before. Thor smelled of ale and sweat, but Sif smelled like flowers. How a female warrior smelled like flowers? You had no idea. Fandral smiled at other girls while the whole lot of you found the palace again. You remember hanging onto Sif and laughing as both of you entered the empty throne room with everyone else.

The last thing you remember is Thor attempting to pick up Mjolnir. The next thing you remember is your parents looking down on you in one of Eir’s beds. You looked to the left and right of you. Everyone who partied with you last night nursed headaches and pains. You watched one of Fandral’s girls throw up into a basin two beds away from you.

“What in the Hel were you thinking?!” Your father yelled at you. The sunlight caused pain in your eyes. “We sent you to live in Asgard Palace to teach you values, make meaningful connections, and this is what you do?”

“Father, I am truly so sorry—

“No, sorry won’t cut it.”

“Odo, hush. You’re too cross,” your mother calmed your father. He shook his head.

“No, I will not have my daughter become a lady of night.”

“Father! Please! I wouldn’t. It was only one night!”

“That’s your aunt said to me. One night! Ha! What a joke that was! It’s never just one night. And it’s never going to happen again.”

“Odo, please—

“I don’t understand,” you said. “What do you mean?”

“We’re sending you away,” your father’s lips formed one firm line. “You’re going away to Vanaheim to a sanctuary for young girls. Asgard’s corruption can’t touch you there.” Your father ripped you away from everything you knew for the sake of your own purity. Away from Thor, Sif, and Fandral. Away from Frigga. Away from your home and everything you knew. Away from Loki.

You never had the chance to say goodbye. Your father gathered everything he could of yours and sent you off towards the sanctuary in Vanaheim. The ride was long and tiring, but once you arrived you were surprised to see who greeted you first.

“I know how you feel. There’s a lot of anger to be had,” Frigga placed her hands on your shoulders, letting them slide up and down your arms as comfort. “Do not be angry with your father. He loves you dearly.”

“I know, but I only made one mistake. Now, I’m here.”

“Do not think of this place as a punishment. Think of it as an opportunity. A place to grow, learn, and mature. I did all of education here when I was young. Sink into magic. Let knowledge be water, and you a sponge. Soak in it. Let it expand you.”

You took Frigga’s words to heart as your mind soaked in every subject you could get your hands on. Your teachers encouraged your mind to wander and explore rather than make you pay attention. You quickly made your own friends and relished any time you had with them whether it be enjoying wine or studying quietly with them.

One day, a close friend presented you with a letter. The envelope was green and gold. Loki. You quietly excused yourself while you read the letter privately in your own space.

Y/N,

It has been months since that night. I had thought you were actively avoiding my company until I heard of your fate from Thor. I was cross with my mother and your parents for a while until last week. My mother told me this place was better for you than Asgard. I suppose she is right. Still, I miss you terribly. My closest friend in an entirely different realm learning all kinds of magic and sorcery. I don’t know whether to feel jealousy or sadness. My mother gave me your address so I may write letters to you. I must admit this is the fourth letter I’ve written.

If you do not want our friendship, then I understand. I will write to you no longer. However, if there’s a chance I may save our kinship, please let me fix it.

Yours, Loki.

The letter shocked you. You hadn’t seen or heard from him, and now he wishes to rekindle the warm friendship you both shared. You wondered how to feel. Had you moved on from him? Or were the same feelings there? You had been so busy and productive, you had forgotten about him. Rekindling your friendship may not be a necessarily a bad thing.

Thus, began the letter exchanging. Loki was thrilled to hear back from you, so much so, that he sent a new book he was looking into about oracles. It was written by the same woman who gave him the contraption. It seems she was rather gifted by giving puzzles and items as prophecies rather than saying them. Through your first letters, both of you examined Loki’s magical water glass which it was appropriately named Juturna’s Glass.

You were so close to unlocking the puzzle one day in the library as you compared your notes to Loki’s letters until another letter was handed to you. It was accompanied by a box wrapped in gold and white.

Y/N,

I realize most of our letters are dedicated to the puzzle. I had almost forgotten your birthday! Today, I want to forget about the puzzle and present you with this gift. Your friendship to me means the world to me. It saddens me that I cannot spend time with someone I consider my equal, but I hope you enjoy the present.

The small, white box opened easily after you pulled the ribbon from it. Inside, lay three opals that twinkled at you. They were strung together in a beautiful necklace. A small gasp left your mouth. Your fingers brushed over the delicate thing. You knew money to Loki was nothing, but this present looked like a lot.

“That’s so beautiful!” Sayori commented.

“Thank you, Loki gave it to me for my birthday,” you told her. Sayori smiled.

“Oh, The Prince of Darkness has found his light.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckled. A long-haired beauty turned around in her seat.

“It means he likes you, silly.”

“Sigyn!” you gasped. “Come on, you know more than anyone he never noticed me, especially next to you.” Sigyn shook her head.

“What friend gives another friend a necklace like that?”

The question played in your head for a day or two. You didn’t have time for your head to wander like usual. You and other young women were now being tested in front of the entire sanctuary. Everything from herbology to sorcery to prophetic powers, your sanctuary was known to turn out nothing but the best. Your parents greeted you after graduation with flowers and your first cloak. It was in your family colors. The red base had purple moons highlighted by golden threads.

You left Asgard a lost and broken teenager, but you returned with your head held high as a grown woman. Sigyn rode to your right. Over the years, her beauty had matured into something men would die for. She no longer needed glamour charms. She wore her own beauty. You still believed yourself to be plain, but after years spent in the sanctuary you learned to love yourself for your own beauty.

You waved and smiled at people you once knew, but your stomach flipped when you saw the palace.

“Hey!” Sigyn called out. You turned your head to see her devilish smile. “Last one there has to kiss Fandral?”

“You’re on.” You winked at her. You kicked your horse into gear as both of you sped through Asgard and into the palace. Your cloak whipped behind you as your white horse climbed the steps of the palace and finally finishing right before the throne room to present yourself to the King. You panted and sighed at the welcome sight of the throne room doors. Asgard’s history and beauty carved into them. You pushed the doors open and frowned at the sight of Sigyn already there.

“Teleportation, isn’t it wonderful?” she reached out to poke you.

“Cheater,” you smiled. Both of you heard laughter ahead of you. Sigyn and you expected to see Odin on his throne to welcome you back, but instead Loki stood before you both in full armor. His black hair was slicked back as usual, but he was a man now. His boyish parts gone and replaced with a leaner, taller version of himself. His green cape followed each elegant step he took. You felt your heart racing as your fingers touched the opals you still wore.

“Sigyn, it’s been a while,” Loki greeted her first. You felt another pang of jealousy as he hugged her.

“It’s good to see you too,” she smiled back.

“Welcome back,” he smiled at both of you. His hand reached out to yours. You let him take it as he kissed your fingers. Butterflies tickled your stomach as the pink reached your cheeks. “Both of you have been dearly missed. My father could not be here to greet you, so I wanted to do the job. Sigyn, I believe my mother and Eir would like to speak with you.”

“Eir? I thought she hated me,” she smiled. Loki shrugged.

“Time changes feelings,” Loki said, standing closer to you than her. “Go see her. She has an opportunity for you.”

“Well, how fancy.” Sigyn’s hair whipped around as she walked out of the throne room, leaving you and Loki alone.

“Hello,” he said to you as if he was waiting for a specific answer.

“Hello,” you said to him. “I don’t suppose I have an opportunity too?”

“Oh! Yes, you do. I helped, but I had hoped you would follow me first for old times’ sake.”

“Oh? Does this involve snakes?” you giggled. Loki laughed along with you. He offered you his arm.

“Not this time.” Loki led you inside the royal library where you had tutored him. Things were changed around and new furniture had replaced the old. You wanted to question Loki’s motives until you saw Juturna’s Glass except it was no longer a solid water vessel. The red and purple water created an illusion of a heart. The blue and red veins acted as if there was blood pumping the ‘heart’.

“Loki—

“I solved it,” Loki smiled. “I cracked the puzzle. I wanted to show you. I could not have done this without your hard work. Thank you.” A sadness settled in the pit of your stomach. If Loki had solved the prophetic puzzle that means he finally found who his heart truly belonged to. You gave Loki your best smile.

“I’m happy for you,” you told him. You took in a sharp breath to avoid sobbing. “I hope she’s wonderful and makes you happy.” Loki turned to you. His blue eyes looked into yours. It seemed like an eternity since you both had been this physically close.

“She is,” Loki whispered to you. He pointed back to the glassy water heart. “You’re smart, love. Look at it again. What’s missing?”

The glass heart had everything, but the solid vessel. The reds, blues, and purples were still bright as usual. It still flowed and pumped. You looked into the crevices and around the heart. Nothing looked missing until you remembered.

“Weren’t there jewels at the—

You touched the three opals on your neck. You remembered the three opals sitting at the bottom of the puzzle. The same three opals that rested happily on your chest.

“Loki?” You turned to him and gasped. He chuckled.

“You’re slowly understanding it? I thought you would’ve known,” Loki smiled.

“How long?” you asked. “I cracked it not long before your birthday. That was well over fifty years ago,” Loki smiled. “You and I were meant to be, Y/N. I was too young and stupid to understand what I had in front of me.”

“You’ve been in love with me for that long?!” you exclaimed. You went to push Loki, but before you could push him Loki grabbed your wrists and pulled you towards him. He closed in the space between both of you. His hands ran through your hair as his mouth moved against yours. You held his armor in your hands. It was the only thing that could keep you stable. You wanted to melt in his arms. When you finally separated, Loki could barely open his eyes. You could see the smile across his face.

He was finally yours.

Your new relationship became very known to the rest of the kingdom. Loki couldn’t stop showing you off to anyone and everyone. You started teaching a new class of students replacing three other teachers because well, you were always the better teacher either way.

“Lady Y/N?” a student asked, raising their hand properly. “What can you tell me about Juturna’s Glass?” You smiled fondly looking at the same glass heart that pumped violets and rubies.

“Love is like water. It flows continuously for those who love us and those that we love. It is constant. It is strong. It is transparent. The glass shows us our love for other people. For me, it shows Loki’s—

“You mean your fiancé?” Loki corrected from the classroom door. You nodded and smiled at your trickster.

“It shows my fiancé’s love for me. It can show a mother’s love. A love for a pet. In this case, it showed us true love. It showed me clarity.”

“Is that why love magic is mostly water?” a different student asked.

“Yes and no,” you told the student. “Love magic can be in all different elements. But yes, love flows like water does. I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today. Please revie—

“They’re gone, darling,” Loki kissed you on the forehead, watching the last student race out the door. “I had hoped you could help if you were done with classes.”

“Oh? What do you need? A potion? A spell?” You asked him. He shook his head and flashed you the same smile you fell in love with many years ago.

“A prank.” Loki offered you his hand and his plans as both of you walked through the palace to find Sif, the poor victim, hand-in hand.

Taglist: @angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @i-theredqueen @sleepylunarwolf @loki-0fasgard @thisisaclusterofablog@markusstraya @godhatesskyleigh @fairlightswiftly @inumorph @1v-kayla@quinzzelx @hiddlestoner3059

(If you want to be added to the taglist or removed, only ask! i will happily do what youu ask.)

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki imagine #imagine loki #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu imagine #loki x reader #loki/reader #water flows like love does #tumblr request #fic request #fluff #angst #one shot #long one shot

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sugarcoated-pain · 6 years

Text

Heavy Rotation-Part Two

Alright guys, I know it’s been a while but I’ve finally finished Part Two of my series, Heavy Rotation.

Best Friends to Lovers (eventually) trope- original character + Ashton

Part One

Warnings: Cussing and drinking. I think that’s about it though.

Another giant thanks to my homegirl @sublimehood for helping again!

“Come on, guys! Just one more game!” I beg, bouncing on the loveseat next to Ashton. I'm sitting cross-legged with my knee against his thigh and he has not moved away. I take small victories where I can get them. In the three months I've lived with these guys, I've started a little game I secretly like to call 'how much can I flirt with Ashton without anybody noticing’.

“No fucking way. Absolutely not.” Calum replies as he abandons his place on the couch next to Georgia to get another beer.

“You kicked our asses FOURTEEN times! Why the hell would we keep playing?” Mikey declares indignantly, tossing the Wii controller on the coffee table.

“Yeah I’m fucking done.” Luke chimes in.

“Don’t be sore losers. It’s very unattractive.” I add condescendingly, eliciting a chuckle from Georgia.

Ashton takes a swig off of his beer before contributing to the conversation, “I’m still playing. I came THIS fucking close to winning last round! But you have to change your character this time. No more ‘Lucky Luigi’. “ he mocks, “and we’re doing Battle Mode.”

“Deal!”

Just as the next round starts, I hear a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it.” Mikey says as he jumps up to answer the door. “Oh. Hey Camille, come on in.” Oh, NOW he moves his leg. Typical.

“Hey babe! What're you doin here?”Ashton asks, pausing the game and standing up to greet her.

“Uh, you said we could go to the club tonight, remember?” She shoots me a glare, potentially having noticed how close he and I were just sitting. I roll my eyes and unpause the game while Ashton is distracted and proceed to kick his ass.

“GODDAMNIT EMMA! You little shit!” He laughs “Come on, not cool!” He shouts, grabbing his Wii controller and pausing it once again. “The club, that's right, “ he adds, hearing Camille's impatient huff as she crosses her arms. “Yeah no problem, let me just get changed. You guys wanna come?” He asks the room at large. To Camille’s clear delight, no one else was interested.

The two of them were gone within fifteen minutes, and it wasn’t long after when Luke and Michael retreated to their rooms. I continue playing Mario Kart with Georgia while Calum rests his feet in her lap, leaning back on the couch and browsing aimlessly on his cell phone.

“BRB.” Cal says, eliciting an eye roll from myself and Georgia, as he gets up and heads down the hall to the bathroom.

No sooner do we hear the door close than Georgia pauses the game and rounds on me. “Alright, spill.” She demands.

“Uh.. you're gonna need to be a little more specific.”

“You and Ashton! Something is definitely happening between the two of you...” Georgia watches me with intrigue as an excited grin passes over her face.

I unpause the game nonchalantly. “I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh come on, Em!” She pauses the game yet again. “I know you better than that by now. You can trust me.”

I sigh, and look around the room to make sure no one else is around. “Okay. Fine. I may or may not have ...slightly more than platonic feelings for him...” Georgia lets out an excited squeal, but I cut her off before she can say anything “BUT. I have no intention of ever acting on this. He has a girlfriend and I am not here for guys. I am here to make music and I'm not letting anybody distract me.”

“Seriously?! 'His girlfriend’ is awful and you know it. He deserves WAY better than her. And what if he feels the same way you do?”

“What if who feels the same way?” Of course Calum walks back into the room at that exact moment. He makes his way back to his spot on the couch, eyeing us both curiously.

“NOBODY!” I shout a little too quickly, glaring at Georgia, who is now wide eyed and holding her hands over her mouth.

He grins mischievously and leans closer to her while watching me curiously. “Nope. I'm not buyin it. I know what I heard. Come on. I'll get it out of her sooner or later so you might as well just tell me…”

Georgia looks like she's about to explode. “UGH fine!” I snap and bury my head in my hands.

“EMMA HAS FEELINGS FOR ASHTON!” she whisper-shouts excitedly, bouncing a little as she says it.

Calum grins. “Excellent! Let's call him and tell him right now. I bet he dumps that dumb bitch on the spot!”

“NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! He cannot find out! Do you understand me?? Neither one of you can ever speak a word or this!” I demand frantically.

“Emma, he's my best friend. I can't NOT tell him something like this.” He replies, pulling out his cell phone.

I immediately slap it out of his hand and onto the floor. “I'm dead serious. He is currently in a relationship and I, on the other hand, am not looking for a relationship. Ashton can't ever find out. Nobody can. PLEASE. I'm begging you.”

They exchange a look. “Fine, I won't say anything.” Cal replies with a huff, glaring at me angrily as he reaches to pick up his phone.

“But Em, I know you don't really want to be single forever.. don't you ever get lonely?” Georgia asks.

“That's what Tinder is for. I'm not interested in anything more than a one night stand right now, and roommates slash best friends are NOT one night stand material.” I pick my cell phone up off the coffee table and start to get up. “I'm going to bed, but please promise me you will keep this between us?” They both nod.

Once in my room, I plop onto my bed with a deep sigh. Guess I took my little game too far, but no more. It’s time to get serious and stop daydreaming about the guy across the hall. No more flirting. No more touching. It’s music time. I grab my favorite journal that has my best song lyrics written in it, and climb out my window onto the fire escape. In my first week in the apartment, I discovered one of my favorite places in the whole world : our rooftop. With a perfect view of the LA skyline, it is by far the best place in this building for song writing. There isn't a ton of space up there, just room for a couple of people comfortably. I found that out in my second week here when I went up there only to discover I'm not the only one who uses this hideout. Ashton was already sitting there, but he let me join him. And of course, we talked music, cracked stupid jokes, shared a joint, and had deep philosophical conversations for hours- the usual “just friends” stuff, right?

I was glad to know he wouldn't be up there tonight though. I needed my rooftop spot for thinking and writing. With my favorite fuzzy throw blanket around my shoulders, I start writing. All my thoughts and emotions from the day easily flow out of me, through my lucky red gel pen and onto the paper. Lately, my writing has mostly revolved around my feelings for two things: my dramatic change in scenery, and Ashton. I hold it back and fight it off as best as I can in the daylight, but up here alone, I can’t help writing about him. What can I say, he seems to be my muse. After I’m completely drained of words and energy, I head back down the fire escape to go to bed.

The next day starts out the same as any other. Camille stayed over and is walking around in one of Ashton’s shirts and little else, which makes me sick to my stomach so I avoid the kitchen at all costs until it’s time to head downstairs for work. It’s my turn to open the record store. Everybody else will probably wander down whenever they feel like it. Joys of being the newbie.

I go through the opening checklist that the guys made for me, and finally open the doors. It's a Saturday so we will probably be busy later in the day, but nobody is ever here first thing in the morning. I wander around hunting for busy work to do, but eventually end up sitting behind the counter doodling on receipt paper. After a while, Luke comes down to start his shift in the store, and I see that someone has opened up the recording studio.

As one would expect, my obsession with that studio has only grown in the time I've been there. Once Luke gets settled, I casually wander through that heavy purple curtain, under the guise of making sure the trash cans were emptied the night before. Ashton is already helping some random musician nobody has ever heard of record their album. I'm fascinated by everything happening in the room- the buttons, the knobs,the lights, the flawless human being operating them all so effortlessly.

“Oh! Hey Em. I didn't see ya there.” His voice breaks me from my trance.

“Morning.. I'm just .. uh.. just making sure the trash was taken out in here last night…” I reply as I quickly grab the nearest can.

“Bullshit. I watched you empty them last night.” Ashton chuckles. “You're just trying to get close to the board again to see how it works….”

“Yep. That's definitely all I was looking at. You caught me..”

“Well, come on then.” He motions for me to take the chair next to him.

“Seriously?!”

“Yeah. This is a pretty easy client. Good one for you to learn on. Sit down.” I hop over to the empty swivel chair excitedly. Ashton shakes his head with a small laugh at my enthusiasm, and then begins talking through the different steps in the process. I force myself to concentrate on the words he is telling me, and not the way his perfect hazel eyes light up when he talks about something he's really passionate about.

After about thirty minutes, Luke frantically pops his head into the studio. “There you are! Come on, Emma, I’m gettin my ass kicked out here!”

“Oops sorry!” I bounce up quickly to follow him out, before turning back to Ashton. “Hey thanks for showin me this stuff.. It was awesome.”

He smiles. “Anytime.”

My shift goes by in a blur after that. Any moments not involving customers are spent daydreaming about my time with Ashton this morning. That nagging part of my brain that knows he’s off limits tries to stop me, but I can’t help myself. He was so sweet and patient with me today. Since I’ve gotten here, Ash has definitely been the most interested in my music and the most supportive on my path to learn more about the music industry in general. I know by now that this is just the type of guy he is, but there is another part of me that wishes it was more than that.

The guys have band practice scheduled that evening. There’s a small, old warehouse attached to the back of the store that Liz let’s them practice in. They’re pretty good together but their practices are entertaining as hell to sit in on. Georgia and I have started bringing snacks and booze to watch. We even recently made a drinking game out of some of the stuff that regularly happens. I lay out a blanket on the floor for us to sit on and start setting up camp while Georgia playfully feeds popcorn to Calum while he’s getting ready. They’re so cute I could puke.

“Hey G, first shot of the game. Mikey’s late again.” I say as I pour cheap vodka into two dixie cups. Georgia takes hers as she sits down next to me on the blanket.

“Cheers.” she says, holding it out as if to toast. I clank my plastic cup to hers and down it in one quick motion.

Michael finally shows up and practice begins. I pour white wine into two red solo cups for Georgia and I.

Relaxing a bit as they finally start playing, I find a comfortable sitting position and take in the music. They're actually getting better, even in just the few months I've been here. But what I really love about their practices is how passionate they all are about their music, particularly Ashton. The way he moves when playing the drums, the intensity in his face. It's mesmerising.

“I've got an idea for another one..” Georgia says in a low tone with a mischievous grin, leaning closer to me. “YOU have to take a drink every time I catch you checking Ashton out.”

“GODDAMNIT GEORGIA!” It's meant to be a whisper but it comes out as more of a hiss, as I look around frantically making sure nobody else heard her.

She laughs, “Actually, make it a shot this time. You were practically drooling.”

As I pour another shot into my dixie cup, I glare at her. “I hate you.” Georgia laughs again as I throw back my shot.

Practice continues and I make an extra effort not to look at Ashton. This is apparently an impossible task for me at this point. His energy on that drum kit is like a black hole sucking me in. I try to find other things to focus on. I stare at Luke for a while. He’s pretty enough to keep my attention, right?

“OH! Luke touched his hair. Take a drink.” I say. Georgia and I both drink.

“And now Ashton is drumming on something that isn’t his drums. Drink.” Georgia said, smirking in my direction.

“Are you purposely drawing my attention to him drumming on his thighs so I have to drink AGAIN?” I shake my head and take another drink while she laughs at me as the guys start playing their next song. Within a matter of seconds, I realize I don’t recognize it. I’ve been overly familiar with all the covers they usually play, and now know the couple of originals they’ve thrown in but this one is different.

“Is this an original?” I ask Georgia curiously.

“I guess so.” She shrugs.

It’s surprisingly good. I’m actually genuinely enjoying this song. It’s heartfelt and emotional, raw even. It has a different feel than most of the other songs they play, but in a really good way. They stop a couple times during the song to discuss aspects of it, and I can tell they aren’t completely happy with it, particularly Ashton.

“There’s just something about the bridge that didn’t feel right.” He says, tapping his drumstick absentmindedly on his knee, as he often does when he’s thinking. They continue debating it for a couple minutes, struggling to agree with what was missing from the sound.

“For the bridge, what if you switch the vocals only to a minor key, but keep the guitar in major?” I chime in loudly. Everybody stops talking and turns to me.

“What?!” Luke asks, apparently stunned that I would speak up during their sacred practice.

“No that’s actually a REALLY good idea. You up for trying it, Luke?” Ashton asks, with a quick smile at me. I really hope I’m not blushing but I’m almost positive I am. Luke shrugs. They start the bridge over, but this time with Luke singing the lead in a minor key. It sounds a million times better, or maybe I’m biased. Georgia turns to me, completely impressed. They finish the song, and Ashton is beaming at me. The other guys nod their approval, looks of mild shock on their faces. They all thank me and compliment me on the idea.

When they’re all finished, Ashton walks over to me. “That was seriously a genius tip.”

“Ha. Thanks. It was already an excellent song, just needed a little tweak.” I shrug, hoping again I’m not fucking blushing.

“You really like it? That means a lot. I wrote this one.”

“I’m not surprised at all.” I say quickly under my breath.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asks with a curious smirk.

“Never mind.” I answer as I finish packing up our little picnic site to head back upstairs.

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

#heavy rotation #5sos #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5sos fanfiction #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford

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3one3 · 7 years

Text

The Sequel - 873

Plans For Later

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Mommy! Mommy!”

“She’s working, Mausi. Give her a minute and she’ll be back.”

“Mommy!”

“Shhh. You’re going to spook Dezy. And Optimus doesn’t like it when you yell either. You don’t want to upset him, do you?”

“No. But Mommyyyyyy.”

“What do you need her for?

“Mommy.”

Lukas wanted or needed his mom for an undisclosed reason, and André just needed him to shut up. He promised his wife that he could give their little boy a pony ride around the outdoor ring at the same time as Stephanie’s lesson with her big, willful mare without disturbing their training. His husband-senses told him she was seconds from turning around to snap at him for being a disturbance. Christina already scolded him for leading Lukas and Optimus too close to the track around the rail, in Stefanie’s way. They were supposed to stay in the middle of the ring because the bigger horse wasn’t using it, and the bigger horse was the closest thing on the property to an actual fire-breathing dragon. The blood bay mare had the hottest temper of all the fit equine athletes, and the most energy to burn. Her rider and trainer were working on an exercise that required halting between two jumps that were just 4 strides apart, and it was infuriating her. Patience, stopping, behaving, control- none were her forte; all were required to successfully complete the exercise. Dezy would have happily trampled miniature horse, footballer, and miniature footballer all the same if they crossed her path in the wrong moment, and Stefanie would have little say in it.

“Why do you want Mommy?”

“She wants to sing,” Lukas whined while bouncing in his very tiny saddle. Christina got a very tiny bridle for her chestnut and white paint too so that Lukas could practice holding reins on his pony rides.

“I don’t think she wants to sing right now, actually,” André sighed. He tugged the small horse along in hopes that moving would distract the passenger. She’s busy trying to resist the urge to tell Stef to get off and let her do it, he thought, recognizing the frustration in Christina’s voice as she barked orders and a belittling form of encouragement. I hope she doesn’t get on her. Those are her favorite jeans right now and they’re not for riding. She has her period now so if she ruins the jeans there will probably be tears. Over jeans. Yes. That is the girl that I married, the player told himself as he turned his head to make sure Lukas was doing okay in the saddle. Christina somehow walked around her rings backward all the time without running into anything while she talked or watched. André didn’t have that skill. He had to switch between checking on his son, watching Dezy to try to figure out where she was going next, and looking for his girl, so that he didn’t lead the pony in between the two and interrupt their communication. Why is she wearing those pants out here anyway? They’re such a light wash, and they’re so thin and soft. Dirt magnet for sure.

“Daddy!”

“What?”

“I need to go.”

“Go where?”

“I need to goooooo.”

“Go wh- Oh.” The midfielder on the mend looked behind him again and saw Lukas holding his crotch. “You have to go potty?” he asked him. The little boy nodded emphatically. “Like immediately or can you- Actually let’s just go now.” Chris will Dracarys me if he pees all over the saddle, André concluded. He draped the lead rope over the pony’s neck and used both hands to pluck the child off his back. “You can go right here. Do you need help with your pants?”

“Here?” Lukas looked up at him like he was crazy, but also with urgency in his adorable little face. His dad squatted and tugged his sweatpants all the way down. Without a small plastic toilet to aim at, he had no idea what to do, and in all the confusion, he ran out of time- just in time for his mom to notice.

“Babe! What is-“ she started to wail when she shifted to watch Stefanie and Dezy’s approach into the jumping exercise and saw them canter behind her kid with his pants down and holding up his shirt. He couldn’t hold it any longer, and the urine stream began before Christina could even get all of the incredulous words out. Unfortunately, it was before he understood that he could just aim at any part of the 100 square meters or so of sand surrounding him. He went directly into his pull-up diaper and pants instead.

“Oops...” André muttered as he watched the little splashes make dark spots on the gray sweats.

“Why is he peeing in the middle of my ring!” Mom shouted more than asked. It upset the boy right away. Uhoh, Dad then muttered to himself. He saw Lukas’ eyes get sad, and a deep frown take over from the confusion. Lukas only enjoyed upsetting his mother on purpose, not by accident. André rubbed his back and used one finger to pull at the front of the diaper and pants to see how bad the situation was inside.

“It was an emergency,” he explained, to both of them really. He tried to keep his tone pleasant and unbothered, for Lukas’ sake. He didn’t even notice that Optimus Prime was walking away. “We didn’t want to have an accident on the saddle.”

“He’s wearing a diaper,” Christina reminded him in her condescending “you idiot” voice. She also walked closer to intercept the pony before he could wander far. “I’d rather he go in the diaper in the saddle than think it’s okay to just whip it out and pee anywhere. Particularly in my footing!”

“Well...he can whip it out and pee anywhere. That’s the beauty of having a penis.”

“Not in socially unacceptable places!” A begrudging groan grew out of her throat before she switched to sympathy. “Is he all wet?”

“Do you want me to keep circling?” Stefanie called from the end of the ring, beyond where her two jumps were set up.

“No. Just walk.”

“It’s no big deal,” André assured his wife, and Lukas too. “We’ll just pull these back on and go get cleaned up and changed at the house. Can you hang onto Optimus or do I need to take him back first?” He looked up at her expectantly while carefully shimmying the diaper and pants up, and Lukas looked up at her like he was about to cry either because he felt like a mess or because he knew he upset her. What they got back was a big, exasperated sigh, arms held out at her sides, and an ambiguous circular shake of her head.

“Boyfriend. I’m trying to teach a lesson here. Take the pony back to Isa.”

“But he’s-“ He started to try to tell her that Lukas wasn’t going to want to walk on his own two feet given the puddle in his diaper that spilled and splashed out into his sweatpants, and that he obviously couldn’t put him back on the pony that way. Lukas took it upon himself to make his discomfort known by bursting into tears and turning to Daddy for a hug. He thought he would carry him home by the armpits or something so that he didn’t have to get himself damp with urine either. The unhappy little boy wouldn’t have that. He needed the hug and helped himself to it. André’s sarcastic “great, thanks” face almost made Christina laugh. She got as far as smirking. “It’s okay, Mausi. You’re not in trouble. Mommy is just-“

“Mommy is nothing,” she warned as she reached for the chinstrap buckle on Lukas’ helmet. Then her demeanor and her voice softened since his face was pressed into the same spot on André’s chest that she used for a pillow the night before and he couldn’t see that she wasn’t scowling or glaring at him. “Can you take Optimus back to the barn?” she asked. “He needs to be with Kimi or he’ll be lonely and sad. Here, take the lead and walk him back for me, okay? You take Optimus and Daddy will hold your hand. Can you do that for me?” Christina rubbed the weepy little blonde’s head with one hand and tugged her miniature paint closer with the other. Optimus sniffed in the vicinity of the accident, and Lukas let go of his dad and his dad’s shirt to see what the animal was up to. “Can you walk him back? For me?”

“Okay, Mommy.” Lukas reached to pet the pony’s nose and take his lead rope at the same time. She let him take it, and covered her face to stifle the laughing when she saw the wet, very yellow blob low on André’s shirt.

“I think he’s dehydrated,” she snickered. “Make sure you give him some water after you change his clothes.”

“Mommy!”

“Wha?”

“You need to sing with me. Banana song!”

“I need you to take your pony back to the barn.” Christina bent down to smooch her son’s head and then replace his helmet on it. His shoulders slumped in defeat because he really wanted to do some singing, but he was an obedient child, and very much his mom’s child, so he didn’t want to let her down by not doing what she asked. This phenomenon always amazed André. He always saw the way Lukas responded to whatever his wife’s energy was. If she were sad, Lukas was sad. If she looked angry, or sounded annoyed with him, he acted guilty. If she negotiated fairly with him and refrained from being domineering, or sounding like she was ordering him to do something, then he usually did it even if he didn’t want to. Most importantly, if she smiled at him, kissed him, or told him she loved him, it made Lukas happy. André was jealous of her emotional influence, and jealous especially of that last part- of the impact of Christina’s smile. He remembered when her smile made him instantly happy too, and missed it.

He took Lukas’ hand and steered child and pony toward the gap in the ring’s hedge perimeter. Spencer and Lucky sprang up from their shady spot in the grass in front of the gazebo to decide if they wanted to follow the boys or stay put where they could see their mom. Their workday was nearing its end and they were tired, so they lay back down. Christina went back to work. Dezy was actually more cooperative after the interruption, perhaps thanks to the mental break. Stefanie was better able to contain her landing stride, bottle her up into a halt that looked purposeful instead of like something sliding to a stop at the last second before tumbling off a cliff, and then progress toward the second fence without exploding during the upward transition back to the canter. Her coach instructed her to practice it twice more on each lead and then call it a day. Kyle was already there and warming up for his lesson. Christina let them try the same exercise a couple of times but their main focus for the day was flatwork for shape and impulsion. Cartagena needed a lot of that, in her opinion, and working on it was a good way for his young pilot to deepen their relationship and feel for one another. All saddle time is good for that. Jumping around is great for the rider to really tune his eye on the horse. Extensive flatwork is even better, because it’s all about feel and balance and learning one another almost psychically.

“Did you make sure Dez gets wrapped? That was a lot of jumps,” Christina pointed out to her other student, who returned to watch and learn from Kyle’s lesson too. To Spencer and Lucky, she returned to provide a lap for them to sit on in the gazebo. They knew better than to go in the ring, but stood on the other side of the low hedge on their back legs to try to get to their human when she came over at the end of the training session. Christina reached over it to pet them.

“Yeah, Isa said he was going to pack her feet as well. Are you finished now?” Stefanie inquired, also on her feet. The two girls walked toward the wide path back up to the barn on their respective sides of the hedge. Kyle and Cartagena had some cooling down to do before they’d head that way too.

“Alllllll done. I rode 6 today before the 4 lessons for you guys.”

“I was about to invite myself over for dinner and hanging out, but I guess I shouldn’t,” the native German girl laughed.

“Actually we’re going out tonight anyway, with Marco and Mario. You’re welcome to come with us but I’m gueeeeeeessing you’re not interested,” Christina laughed back. The two friends and sometimes teammates joined the neat and nicely edged dirt walk together and started toward the stable with terriers in tow.

“Definitely not interested.”

“You can go hang out with Espen and Lukas if you want. They’ll be home, and they’re having spinach and kale pesto turkey burgers for dinner.”

“You’re raising that kid who loses his mind when he goes to his friend’s house and is allowed to have soda and potato chips.”

“I am not!” Christina protested. “He’s had Coke before, and I let him eat junk food all the time. I just try to feed him healthy, unprocessed stuff as much as possible so that that’s what he likes and wants to eat. He doesn’t even like soda. He doesn’t even like full strength juice! I have to water it down. I’m happy about that. We were out running errands all over the place a few days ago and we were both starving so I gave in and went to McDonald’s for McNuggets and fries because we both love McNuggets and fries and in small quantities they’re not that terrible for you, but I asked him if he wanted chicken or a burger and he wanted the burger. He got two bites in, made an unhappy face, and asked if I had any carrots. I was so proud.”

“Poor kid. His childhood is ruined,” Stefanie teased as they began up the small hill the barn and indoor sat on.

“Like you’re gonna say no to that spinach and kale pesto turkey burger.”

“Yeah, I’m not. It sounds delicious,” she conceded.

“Where’s Michael tonight?”

“Berlin, for a work meeting.”

“Do you see him before we leave tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Aww bummer.”

“He’s coming Friday for the weekend.” Her face slowly split in a growing smile, and Christina felt envious of the excitement of relatively new, fresh, young love. Stefanie was obviously thrilled that her new boyfriend was going to Rome to watch her compete- something Mario almost never did. “Oh I just remembered- can he fly back with us on Sunday or is there no room on the jet?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

They changed footwear, checked on their horses- some of which would be departing in the early morning hours for Rome- chatted with Isandro, and trekked over to the house. Lukas had a new outfit on and was standing on his mom’s stepladder to help Espen with a baking project. She was making pumpkin and oat muffins to bring for snacking on the horse show trip, and the little boy’s job was to put the papers in the muffin tins. He nearly tumbled off the ladder when the dogs ran into the kitchen and he realized Mom was home. She visited with him and let him show her what he was doing, and attempt to tell her what he was going to have for dinner. He said it was like a burger but not a burger because it didn’t have any burger in it. He was very excited about it, reason unknown. Christina made the spinach and kale pesto, including traditional basil, earlier in the day. She reminded Espen how much to fold into the ground turkey, what else to add, and how best to grill the patties before she went upstairs to find André. Espen said he was putting laundry away. Naturally his wife did not believe that.

“Baaaabe?” she called out on her way into the master bedroom.

“Why are you so loud?” he asked back skeptically. He was stretched out on the nicely made bed, also in a new outfit. “Marco had some kind of Noah-related situation so dinner is delayed. You can take your time getting ready.”

“I’m going like this,” the rider informed him as she set herself down next to him and leaned over onto his sweater to see what he was doing with his phone. “It’s just Vapiano, right?”

“Mhm. You don’t want to change?”

“I’m not dirty. I’ll put heels and a jacket on. Watcha doin?”

“Texting with Dad. I’m finished though. What are you doin?” André placed the phone on his stomach and reached across himself to touch her cheek. Christina lifted her head to give him a kiss.

“What time do we have to go?”

“An hour.”

“In that case, I’m relaxing. That’s what I’m doing.” She moved her right knee onto his thigh and hugged his middle with her right arm. “Don’t let me fall asleep or we’re not going.”

“Did your period start yet?”

“No. Any minute.”

“Want to have sex?”

“You were not talking to your dad. You were watching porn.”

“That is correct, yeah,” he chuckled.

“Why?”

“I put your laundry away, including the light gray panties you were wearing the other night when you got yourself off for me. It made me think about your hand in there, and the wet spot coming through underneath,” the player explained casually, without any embarrassment. His fingers rubbed at her scalp right behind her temple, and her fingers moved from his waist to his crotch.

“Must not have been good porn,” she concluded after the tactile assessment.

“I sat down literally two minutes before you walked in.”

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“You can make it up to me...”

“Later? I had plans for later...” Christina told him just as leadingly as he accepted her apology. I want to take a late night bath with him. I really, really need big fat Schü hands all over my entire body tonight. I want him to hold my sides, and fondle my boobs a lot, and do the thing when he- like- when he delicately feels around between my legs, and rubs the side of his face on the side of my head. And then we can get in bed all nice and clean and fresh and he can put those long fingers delicately IN-

“What sort of plans?” André’s interruption of her internal itinerary was actually a blessing, as she was close to accidentally future-fantasy-ing herself into wanting the same thing he wanted in the present. Her previously established plans for later were supposed to be more about romance and relaxation, not the kind of quick sexual gratification she thought he was after just then. Going back to “work” came with mixed feelings for her, and she wanted a good sendoff to set her up feeling good from the beginning.

Hiding out at home since the Olympics meant Christina hadn’t had to see anybody from her competition life, or answer questions from colleagues instead of just media. She didn’t know what kind of reception she’d get around the horse show in Rome- if people would congratulate her and think she did well, if they’d talk behind her back about how the individual gold should have been hers to win and she blew it, or if there would be any change in the level of respect she commanded among her equestrian peers. Heiner and Holger were only just learning about her plans to hardly compete until the New Year, and she wasn’t sure how they would take it, or if they would even believe her since she was inclined to change her mind a lot. They were coming to the Global Champions Tour event to watch and take notes on how everyone was doing, as it was just a week before the Nations Cup Final in Barcelona. The only conversation she had with either of them about her plans was when Holger called to confirm her place in the Nations Cup Final team before it was announced. He said they were nominating Dirk for it, and it was major news to him when Christina snorted and said Dirk hadn’t even worn a saddle since the individual medal ceremony in Tokyo. Her plan was to take Nick, and Holger was accepting of that but not thrilled. He didn’t have much of a choice. His youngest but then very experienced star wasn’t sure what to expect from her colleagues, her coaches, or herself. It was her first time back in the show ring since the Olympics and she had no idea if anything about competing would feel different, or if she’d inherently changed. Her overall feeling about going away to Italy was pretty calm, but a gentle current of anxiety and apprehension moved through her at the same time.

“Plans that you’ll like.”

“Promise?”

André’s girl nodded her head on his chest and made a kissy face at him since she couldn’t reach his mouth or cheek without moving. Whether soaking in the tub with me and then making love is the kind of plan he’ll really like or not, I think he’ll like it when I tell him I want to do that before I leave because I think being close with him will help inoculate me against anything unfortunate that might happen when I get to Rome, she thought. He likes being Security Blanket Schü. I wish I could take him with me, just in case.

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